Hit the Spot

Page 59

Jamie rocked forward and pressed into me, leaning away and then bending to take my mouth and the moan I was giving him.

“You ready?” he asked, hot against my lips.

I nodded and whispered, “Yes.” Then I braced myself. Because if Jamie asked whether or not I was ready, I knew that meant he was done being slow and accommodating.

He was ready to take. He was ready to push my face into the mattress and make my skin flush under his hand.

He was ready to fuck.

So when Jamie leaned back and ducked his head beside me, kissing my other shoulder and moving down my arm with his mouth, my body stiffened. I was confused.

He wasn’t rushing to grab a condom and flip me over. He wasn’t making me cry out while he made me forget.

He kissed my biceps and the bend in my elbow. The back of my forearm and the inside of my wrist. He opened my hand and pressed a kissed to my palm, and when he moved over each of my fingers, sliding his own between them, I had to ask.

“What are you doing?”

Head turned, I watched Jamie draw my thumb into his mouth and suck. I clenched my thighs around him.

“He touch you here?” he asked, kissing the back of my hand and moving higher, lips tickling every inch of my skin. Sometimes just his breath.

I couldn’t answer Jamie because I knew what he was doing. And I couldn’t believe he was doing it.

Every part of me that touched Wes or had been touched by him, Jamie was touching. He kissed and he felt and he let his tongue taste. My other arm. Behind my ears. Over the curve in my ribs and the dip in my stomach.

“Here?”

My hipbones, he dragged his teeth as if he knew that was where Wes held me tight. Down my legs. The tops of my ankles. My feet.

“Here?”

On my stomach, I felt his hot tongue lick up my spine. He kissed the backs of my knees. He squeezed my ass and pressed his mouth there.

Jamie was erasing fingerprints and memories. He was replacing them with his own.

My breath hitched when he flipped me over again, palmed my breasts, and then bit them. I cried out.

My soft voice begged. Do it and again and again, Jamie, please.

He sucked on my nipples. He twisted them between his fingers and buried his face in my cleavage, cursing, “Fuck, baby,” as his hands shook.

I reached for him and whimpered when he sat back. I wanted more. His fingers in my hair and his teeth on my neck. “Please,” I whispered, arm outstretched and fingertips seeking.

Jamie held my gaze and moved his hand between my legs.

My eyes rolled closed.

“That motherfucker lick you here?”

My eyes flew open and I looked at Jamie after he spoke. I squirmed when he slid a finger inside me.

“Yes,” I whispered, in answer and in response to what he was doing.

He sank down.

I bent my knees up.

Every muscle in my body tensed.

Putting your mouth on a woman there, in my opinion, was a much more intimate act than sex. There was something profoundly personal about it. Hell, not all men even did it.

And Jamie was looking to get intimate with me.

On his stomach and hanging partially off the bed, Jamie dropped his head between my legs and swiped his hot tongue through my pussy.

“Oh, shit,” I moaned, back arching and hands reaching down to grab handfuls of ocean-kissed hair.

Jamie had his hands wrapped around my thighs and was yanking me closer to his mouth. He started to work me.

Lips parted to moan and pant and beg if he asked, I looked between my legs, watching in wonder and studying, learning the way he ate out a woman.

There was technique. There was skill and practiced moves.

He didn’t start slow. He wasn’t savoring.

Jamie was ravenous. Greedy. He spoke against my flesh, saying hottest pussy and so wet and so fuckin’ good and this was never his. He wasn’t just erasing and replacing memories. Jamie wasn’t simply licking and tasting to see if he liked it. He was eating and consuming, knowing he wanted it all. Hard, hungry lips and a tongue that felt like fire. He was rough.

He was unforgettable.

Jamie was making it so his mouth was the only mouth I was ever going to remember, no matter who came after him.

He was cocky here, too. And he had right to be.

I was breathing heavy before I knew it and on the edge even quicker than that.

“Jamie.” My legs shook against his ears. They were trembling uncontrollably, like part of my body was having a seizure.

That had never happened to me before.

“Ja … mie, oh, God,” I cried, tugging so hard on his hair he growled between my legs.

My violence didn’t stop him. If anything, it spurred him on and drove him a little crazy.

Jamie kept on at me, sucking on my clit and speaking words against my flesh that sounded dirty even though I couldn’t understand him as my head slammed back onto the pillow and my back arched.

I came hard.

He dug his fingers into my ass and told me to ride his face like it was his cock, and I did, lifting my hips in quick jerks as the wave of euphoria rolled through me.

I collapsed onto the mattress, panting and seeing stars and feeling a little drugged. My entire body felt like it was humming. And when Jamie lifted his head and my hands in turn, since they were still holding fistfuls of his hair, I looked down and met his eyes, letting go of him finally.

“So fuckin’ hot the way you go off,” he told me, chin and lips wet and tongue licking to savor. “The way it builds in you and you let it take. Fuck me, babe. I ain’t never seen fire like that.”

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