Read Online Jackson: A Sexy Bastard Novel by Eve Jagger - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Eve Jagger
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witnessed.
Her mouth is slack, eyelids closed as she grinds against me. Her shirt brushes my face, and then her hair curtains us as she leans over and hovers her lips above mine. I can taste her breath, whiskey and maple and something slightly bitter, uniquely her. With a crash of symbols, I surge upward, but she pulls away, chuckling.
“Don’t be impatient. What is it they say? ‘Good things come to those who wait.’”
Without missing a beat, she reaches down and pulls her shirt up and over her head. Her bra is black and lacy, covering small firm breasts.
And her skin. Fuck, her skin. Pale, smooth, like cream poured over her body. A body that is moving against me, taunting me. It’s all I can do not to yank my hands free. But every time I start to slide them out, she leans her weight down, and I stop. I’m hungry for her. But I’m even more interested in seeing what she’ll do next.
She reaches behind her back with one hand, and her bra pops free, exposing perfect round breasts. I press my face forward, tongue out, and she lets me lick a circle around her pink areola before pushing me away, tilting her hips so that the pressure is un-fucking-bearable.
I am so goddamned hard. I want to takeover so bad and bury myself deep in her.
But I let her keep going. Vaguely, I realize that she’s unbuttoning my shirt and kissing my neck, my collarbone, my chest.
“Please,” I groan, “Skylar, let me touch you.” Her mouth on my skin is like a burn, the tip of her tongue rough, sandpapery. Then she rocks back, relieving the pressure against my cock, and I suck in a breath of frustration.
“Shhhh.”
Lifting her knees off of my hands, she scoots back and reaches for my belt. Finally, I can see beneath the skirt, between her legs. Her thong is dark pink. The material has shifted so that I can see her thong is drenched.
My breath is coming out hard and fast, but I can’t stop. She’s released my hands, and still I haven’t touched her. It’s taking every last ounce of willpower, but I’m watching her, waiting for her cue. Ever the gentleman. Or at least trying.
She glances up from unzipping my fly, and a devilish smirk flits across her lips as she pulls down my pants and boxers to free my dick.
“Should I be gentle?”
Holy Fuck.
13
Skylar
T he guitars are moaning , the cymbals are screaming, and I’m barely thinking conscious thoughts anymore as I ease myself down his body, letting him feel every inch of me. When my face gets to his lap, I let my tongue flit out and tease the head of his cock as he sucks in a breath and runs his hands through my hair. Pressing his thighs farther apart with my palms, I glide my tongue down the shaft, and his whole body goes rigid. I’m high with the ability to make his body respond to me. Every tremor, every inhale is intoxicating.
Reaching between his legs, I cup his balls, gently pressing each with my thumb. He gasps again, straining beneath me, and I suck gently, gliding my hands along his thighs. The pressure builds as I suck harder, his cock becoming fuller, and more rigid. I let him push deeper, savoring the feeling of him straining against me.
“Skylar, I am about to come,” he says as he tries to pull my head back, but I want this. I want to show him I can be an unselfish lover too. I am so full of adrenaline, that I pick up my pace, graze my teeth against his skin and with one last attempt at pulling off the blow job of blow jobs, I deep throat him and swallow the tip of his cock.
Finally, he gives a low moan and comes, thick and sweet into my mouth.
I swallow once, twice, and then release him, licking my lips. For a moment, we stay like that: me kneeling, head in his lap; him pressed hard against the back of the couch, head back. Scratchy static sounds come from the turntable.
“The pool.” He says it so softly, I’m not certain I’ve heard him right at first.
“The pool. You wanted to see the pool, right?”
Of course. Allegedly that’s why I
Her mouth is slack, eyelids closed as she grinds against me. Her shirt brushes my face, and then her hair curtains us as she leans over and hovers her lips above mine. I can taste her breath, whiskey and maple and something slightly bitter, uniquely her. With a crash of symbols, I surge upward, but she pulls away, chuckling.
“Don’t be impatient. What is it they say? ‘Good things come to those who wait.’”
Without missing a beat, she reaches down and pulls her shirt up and over her head. Her bra is black and lacy, covering small firm breasts.
And her skin. Fuck, her skin. Pale, smooth, like cream poured over her body. A body that is moving against me, taunting me. It’s all I can do not to yank my hands free. But every time I start to slide them out, she leans her weight down, and I stop. I’m hungry for her. But I’m even more interested in seeing what she’ll do next.
She reaches behind her back with one hand, and her bra pops free, exposing perfect round breasts. I press my face forward, tongue out, and she lets me lick a circle around her pink areola before pushing me away, tilting her hips so that the pressure is un-fucking-bearable.
I am so goddamned hard. I want to takeover so bad and bury myself deep in her.
But I let her keep going. Vaguely, I realize that she’s unbuttoning my shirt and kissing my neck, my collarbone, my chest.
“Please,” I groan, “Skylar, let me touch you.” Her mouth on my skin is like a burn, the tip of her tongue rough, sandpapery. Then she rocks back, relieving the pressure against my cock, and I suck in a breath of frustration.
“Shhhh.”
Lifting her knees off of my hands, she scoots back and reaches for my belt. Finally, I can see beneath the skirt, between her legs. Her thong is dark pink. The material has shifted so that I can see her thong is drenched.
My breath is coming out hard and fast, but I can’t stop. She’s released my hands, and still I haven’t touched her. It’s taking every last ounce of willpower, but I’m watching her, waiting for her cue. Ever the gentleman. Or at least trying.
She glances up from unzipping my fly, and a devilish smirk flits across her lips as she pulls down my pants and boxers to free my dick.
“Should I be gentle?”
Holy Fuck.
13
Skylar
T he guitars are moaning , the cymbals are screaming, and I’m barely thinking conscious thoughts anymore as I ease myself down his body, letting him feel every inch of me. When my face gets to his lap, I let my tongue flit out and tease the head of his cock as he sucks in a breath and runs his hands through my hair. Pressing his thighs farther apart with my palms, I glide my tongue down the shaft, and his whole body goes rigid. I’m high with the ability to make his body respond to me. Every tremor, every inhale is intoxicating.
Reaching between his legs, I cup his balls, gently pressing each with my thumb. He gasps again, straining beneath me, and I suck gently, gliding my hands along his thighs. The pressure builds as I suck harder, his cock becoming fuller, and more rigid. I let him push deeper, savoring the feeling of him straining against me.
“Skylar, I am about to come,” he says as he tries to pull my head back, but I want this. I want to show him I can be an unselfish lover too. I am so full of adrenaline, that I pick up my pace, graze my teeth against his skin and with one last attempt at pulling off the blow job of blow jobs, I deep throat him and swallow the tip of his cock.
Finally, he gives a low moan and comes, thick and sweet into my mouth.
I swallow once, twice, and then release him, licking my lips. For a moment, we stay like that: me kneeling, head in his lap; him pressed hard against the back of the couch, head back. Scratchy static sounds come from the turntable.
“The pool.” He says it so softly, I’m not certain I’ve heard him right at first.
“The pool. You wanted to see the pool, right?”
Of course. Allegedly that’s why I
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