Read Online Mistletoe & Hollywood by Natasha Boyd, Kate Roth - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Natasha Boyd, Kate Roth
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in any fit state to—”
His fingers found my slick flesh, already primed for him. Traitorous body .
I gasped.
“Ah, fuck, Keri Ann.” His curse, his voice, rough and low and laden with need, was as potent as the searing arousal caused by his moving fingers. They slid over me, teasing me, asking me, and then starting a slow and torturous rhythm.
Mashing my lips together, in order to seal my mouth closed, I tried to control my response. It was no use. “Jack,” I burst out, my body trembling.
“Baby,” he groaned, his eyes not leaving my face. The other hand gripping my hip moved up my chest, pausing a moment to scrape over the tip of my breast through my cotton top before moving up to my neck and my jaw.
Shuddering, I closed my eyes on a sigh, heightening the feel of his fingers moving and sliding between my legs, focusing. Circling. My hips responded of their own accord.
“Does it feel good?” he whispered.
I nodded against his hand on my cheek, my pulse pounding, my chest rapidly expanding and contracting.
“Tell me,” he said, and his fingertips on my face moved over my mouth coaxing it open.
“It feels a—amazing,” I stuttered.
Jack’s fingers between my legs slid back, and then forward… and then deep inside me.
“Oh my—Aaah—”
My desperate sound was abruptly muted down to a long whimper as the fingers at my jawline slid into my mouth. I quaked, my body rocking forward, driving him deeper between my legs, completely out of my control.
“Shit,” he muttered.
I sucked at the fingers in my mouth, desperately trying not to let a sound escape me. All it did was intensify every pull and glide of his hand as his fingers moved in and out of my aching body.
“Shit, Keri Ann. Baby.” Jack’s voice was strangled and not that quiet. Hearing himself must have shocked him because suddenly he withdrew his hands.
“Please, don’t… don’t stop.”
In a moment, he’d stood, flipped our positions and had me lying on the bed. He dropped to his knees on the floor between my legs.
Oh, God.
I caught his dark gaze.
Both of us were breathing heavily. I felt so desperate. So uninhibited all of a sudden. I needed this. I needed Jack. These times, these raw, sensual times between us, when our words and our responses were the most honest, seemed to strip our souls bare to each other, reminding us that “us together” was more important than all the other BS we let dictate our moods and feelings.
“I’m so far from stopping,” he smirked, his eyes glinting at me before his gaze dropped between us. “I’ve missed you so much.” His fingers that had been inside me went to his mouth.
“God, Jack,” I rasped. How did he do this to me? Nothing was shocking with Jack, it was all natural and painfully arousing.
He pressed two fingers to my entrance, and I found myself rocking against them, my body desperate for relief, for friction.
“Please.”
A low throaty chuckle sounded as Jack moved his head closer. “What do you want, Keri Ann?” he whispered.
Self-consciousness began to squeeze my stomach, creeping into my mind. His breath was so close to where I needed him, it was making me desperate and nervous, my body clenching with tension. “You know what I want.”
“I want you to ask me.” There was no teasing in his voice, just pure need.
“You. I want you, your mouth, your hands; I don’t care. I need you. Please.” My voice broke.
“God, I love hearing that, you have no idea.” The last word was a mumble as his mouth made contact, his hot tongue flicking over me. His fingers thrust deep inside, forcing a sharp exhale out of my chest, relief and the sting of need all jumbled together. He withdrew and began to pump in a slow sensual rhythm.
Churning, dizzying heat twisted my stomach and poured through my veins. My hands grabbed at Jack’s hair, the sheets, and eventually, and more usefully, the pillow. I held back, attempting to keep my responses in check, in silence,
His fingers found my slick flesh, already primed for him. Traitorous body .
I gasped.
“Ah, fuck, Keri Ann.” His curse, his voice, rough and low and laden with need, was as potent as the searing arousal caused by his moving fingers. They slid over me, teasing me, asking me, and then starting a slow and torturous rhythm.
Mashing my lips together, in order to seal my mouth closed, I tried to control my response. It was no use. “Jack,” I burst out, my body trembling.
“Baby,” he groaned, his eyes not leaving my face. The other hand gripping my hip moved up my chest, pausing a moment to scrape over the tip of my breast through my cotton top before moving up to my neck and my jaw.
Shuddering, I closed my eyes on a sigh, heightening the feel of his fingers moving and sliding between my legs, focusing. Circling. My hips responded of their own accord.
“Does it feel good?” he whispered.
I nodded against his hand on my cheek, my pulse pounding, my chest rapidly expanding and contracting.
“Tell me,” he said, and his fingertips on my face moved over my mouth coaxing it open.
“It feels a—amazing,” I stuttered.
Jack’s fingers between my legs slid back, and then forward… and then deep inside me.
“Oh my—Aaah—”
My desperate sound was abruptly muted down to a long whimper as the fingers at my jawline slid into my mouth. I quaked, my body rocking forward, driving him deeper between my legs, completely out of my control.
“Shit,” he muttered.
I sucked at the fingers in my mouth, desperately trying not to let a sound escape me. All it did was intensify every pull and glide of his hand as his fingers moved in and out of my aching body.
“Shit, Keri Ann. Baby.” Jack’s voice was strangled and not that quiet. Hearing himself must have shocked him because suddenly he withdrew his hands.
“Please, don’t… don’t stop.”
In a moment, he’d stood, flipped our positions and had me lying on the bed. He dropped to his knees on the floor between my legs.
Oh, God.
I caught his dark gaze.
Both of us were breathing heavily. I felt so desperate. So uninhibited all of a sudden. I needed this. I needed Jack. These times, these raw, sensual times between us, when our words and our responses were the most honest, seemed to strip our souls bare to each other, reminding us that “us together” was more important than all the other BS we let dictate our moods and feelings.
“I’m so far from stopping,” he smirked, his eyes glinting at me before his gaze dropped between us. “I’ve missed you so much.” His fingers that had been inside me went to his mouth.
“God, Jack,” I rasped. How did he do this to me? Nothing was shocking with Jack, it was all natural and painfully arousing.
He pressed two fingers to my entrance, and I found myself rocking against them, my body desperate for relief, for friction.
“Please.”
A low throaty chuckle sounded as Jack moved his head closer. “What do you want, Keri Ann?” he whispered.
Self-consciousness began to squeeze my stomach, creeping into my mind. His breath was so close to where I needed him, it was making me desperate and nervous, my body clenching with tension. “You know what I want.”
“I want you to ask me.” There was no teasing in his voice, just pure need.
“You. I want you, your mouth, your hands; I don’t care. I need you. Please.” My voice broke.
“God, I love hearing that, you have no idea.” The last word was a mumble as his mouth made contact, his hot tongue flicking over me. His fingers thrust deep inside, forcing a sharp exhale out of my chest, relief and the sting of need all jumbled together. He withdrew and began to pump in a slow sensual rhythm.
Churning, dizzying heat twisted my stomach and poured through my veins. My hands grabbed at Jack’s hair, the sheets, and eventually, and more usefully, the pillow. I held back, attempting to keep my responses in check, in silence,
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