Jackson’s mouth on mine is hot and demanding.

Ruthless.

I love it. Most men kiss me with some sort of tentativeness, like they’re not quite sure they should, or if I might break, but Jackson has none of that.

He kisses me like he has every right to.

Like he has claim to me.

Like I’m his to possess any way he wants me.

Our tongues clash, almost fighting as we kiss because it’s not close enough. I want more.

It’s like he has something I’ve always needed but never had before.

Our breathing is harsh. Our bodies strain. The sounds coming from the back of our throats feral.

His hands are everywhere, roaming over my breasts and ass, down the curve of my hips to my thighs before traveling back up to tangle in my hair. I clutch at his shirt, desperate to get it off.

We part for one fraction of a second, with just enough time to rip our shirts over our heads and toss them to the floor before our mouths come back to cling, desperate and needy.

His finger hooks into the tie of my bathing suit top and tugs. It falls, abandoned to the floor.

Then my bare skin is pressed against his and we let out a moan at the contact. His palms slide over my skin, hot and searing, like a brand.

It’s what I want. To be marked. To feel like his, to be a reminder that this insane, out-of-control chemistry is not in my imagination.

He rips away, pushing me to the couch where I fall in a heap. He looks down at me and shakes his head. “This is going to be a disaster.”

I open my legs. Lift my hips. “Take me.”

He growls, reaches down and undoes my shorts before ripping them and my bikini bottoms down my legs. “Fucking gorgeous.”

I flush with pleasure because by the guttural tone of his voice, he’s losing it.

His hand covers my mound and the heel of his palm grinds against my clit. I gasp when two fingers slide inside me and hook hard against my G-spot.

I cry out. Arching to meet him. He falls to his knees and covers my breast with his mouth and—the torture, oh god the torture—begins.

It’s intense. Demanding.

“Jackson!” His name is a short burst of sound. The furniture protests at his brutal handling, squeaking under the weight of my keening body. Which makes everything hotter.

“I’m…” I stop to moan. “I’m going to come.”

He curses, vile and vicious, ripping away from me to grab a condom before yanking down his shorts.

My attention snags on his cock, which is long, thick and beautiful. He opens the package, and I can’t help myself, I rear up, swing my legs to either side of him, and swallow the length of him.

“Fuck!” he yells. His hand is in my hair, fisting the strands at the back of my neck, as he guides my head. I can’t tell if he wants to push me away, but I want to taste him so bad, I swallow harder, suck deeper.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” His voice is pained.

It only increases my arousal. I grip his hips, taking him as deep as I can go, not stopping when I gag.

He growls, low and deep, pushes my head on his cock one more time before he forcibly removes me.

His hand still in my hair, he yanks up, and my gaze meets his. He groans and slides his erection over my lips. I lick, and he curses again. Pulling away, he rolls the condom over his engorged shaft. He spreads my thighs and climbs between them, one leg on the floor, one on the couch. He clasps his cock in one hand and my hip with the other.

Our eyes meet.

And without breaking eye contact, he presses into me.

I arch, but then he’s gone. I moan.

He pushes in again and when he goes to retreat, I clasp his hips with my thighs. “Please.”

He groans and sinks inside me, stretching me taut. Full.

I’m so, so full. He leans forward and covers me, kissing my lips while he waits for my body to adjust. To accept him.

I bow, wanting him to move. I clutch at his back, right above the cut of his hips.

Our gazes meet again.

He shakes his head. “I knew from the second I laid eyes on you that you’d be trouble.”

Throat dry, I gasp out, “I knew from the second I laid eyes on you we’d end up here.”

He pulls out and slams back in. “Your pussy is fucking heaven.”

Already my body impossibly starts to quicken. “Oh god.”

He thrusts. “So tight.”

We grind together. Like we can’t get close enough.

I want more. I’m greedy and hungry and so hot I think I might burst into flames. I dig my nails into his back. “Harder.”

He pounds his hand against the sofa cushion. “Goddamn it.”

“Harder. Fuck me harder, Jackson.” I rock my hips into his. “Take me.”

He growls, clamps a hand around my throat and starts pounding into me.

Hard, brutal, blissful strokes that leave me mindless.

I don’t want to come, but the orgasm is already barreling in on me. “Yes. More.”

Into my ear he whispers, “You’re fucking mine.”

I rake my nails over his skin. “Yours.”

“All mine.”

“Yes.”

My muscles coil tight. He’s taking me so hard the couch is rocking under us, loud and demanding. The room is filled with slapping flesh and harsh, panting breath.

He slams into me.

There’s a crack. A loud creak.

And the couch collapses, sliding down as two of the legs give way. He doesn’t even break stride, just rolls us onto the floor, and then we go mad, crazy.

All our pent-up desire is unleashed and we’re moving together like our lives depend on it.

He thrusts into me, hard and high, and it’s impossibly better with no give on the floor.

On the next thrust he rolls his hips, grinding into my clit and it pushes me over the edge. The orgasm crests and breaks, like a fierce storm. I cry out, my muscles rippling down the length of his cock as he pounds into me.

My vision blurs as I come in violent, crashing waves.

He follows me a second later, letting out a loud roar as he fucks me ruthlessly, giving me the most intense orgasm of my life.

A minute later when we finally stop surging together, we lay panting on the floor. His cock is still inside me.

I can’t resist rolling my hips, just to feel him inside me. Nothing has ever felt as good as Jackson. Or as right. I manage to gasp out, “Holy shit.”

He laughs, and his lips skim down my throat. “That about sums it up.”

“We broke the couch.”

He lifts his head and strokes a lock of hair from my damp cheek. “We did.”

A type of giddy happiness overtakes me and I don’t even think about playing it cool. “Best. Sex. Ever.”

He kisses me, long and deep, before pulling away and whispering against my lips, “Best sex ever.”

“We need to do it again.”

He grins and shakes his head at me. “We need to fuck every single second we can.”

“Deal.” Then I pull him down, and claim him for my very own.

I’m not letting go until he makes me.

It’s four in the morning.

I’m dressed, sitting on the chair in Gwen’s motel room, willing myself to get up and walk out the door. I’d opened the curtains to let some light in as I pulled on my clothes.

I look at the woman who’s basically fucked me forever.

She’s sprawled out over white motel sheets, looking like the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

The bed is a disaster. Blankets are tossed to the floor and the sheet is tangled around Gwen’s waist. She’s sleeping on her stomach, having fallen into an exhausted stupor after I’d taken her from behind. She’d had a screaming orgasm, and collapsed, falling promptly asleep. Her hair is streaming out on the pillows and all I can think about is when I can have her again.

When I can feel the tight clasp of her cunt as she comes around me. When I can feel her shiver with lust when I lick her nipples.

After the couch, we’d fought over who was going to tell Beau, and then decided to prop the couch back up on its legs and let him take the fall when he sits on it. He probably won’t buy it, but Gwen thought it was hysterical and I couldn’t deny her the pleasure.

So I didn’t.

After, we went back to the kitchen. I finished my pasta dish, and then we spent the next four hours fucking and eating, each of us trying to impress the other with their cuisine. Gwen cooked like I did, with her whole soul, and a perfectionism I could appreciate. In between courses I had her on the counter, against the wall, bent over the stool and it still wasn’t enough.

When I’d brought her back to her motel room, I’d intended on leaving, but then she kissed me and I forgot all about why I needed to go. I took her on the bed, in the shower. I was going to leave after that, but then we’d fallen in a naked heap and she climbed on top of me, her hips an intoxicating sway and I couldn’t leave.

We’d fallen asleep, only to wake up and screw with a slow, steady, dirty grind that made my eyes roll into the back of my head I came so hard. We talked, she made me laugh, and generally entertained the hell out of me until my lust overcame me and I had to have her again.

And here I am, trying to walk out the door and finding I can’t make myself move.

She stirs in her sleep, rolling over, baring her breasts.

Breasts I’ve sucked and bit and licked.

It’s still not enough.

Impossibly, I feel my cock harden.

I should get the hell out of here and never come back.

Because I am in a fucking panic over this girl.

I want her like I want my next breath.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to sleep with another woman without thinking about how she doesn’t compare to Gwen.

Everything about her is fun and there’s not one thing that I don’t like about her.

She’s direct, honest, sassy and sexy. Smart and beautiful. Successful and competent. She’s the total package. I’d bet a million dollars she terrifies ninety-five percent of all men she comes in contact with, which is the only logical reason for why some idiot hasn’t managed to grab ahold of her yet.

My hands tighten into fists at the thought of that faceless guy.

Then I remember my whispered claim in her ear. I must have told she was mine about five hundred times, and every time I said it she got hotter. I got hotter. Because there was something about her that demanded she belonged to me.

She stirs again and stretches.

I should get up and leave, right now, before I risk her waking.

I’ll see her today at work. It’s only a few hours from now. She’ll understand me leaving.

I lean forward, ready to get up and bail, spotting a glass on the table next to me. Before I can think, I reach out and tip it to the floor with a crash.

Gwen jolts up and I ignore the relief in my gut.

“What happened?” Her hand is splayed over her chest.

“Sorry.” I can’t believe I did that but I’m committed now. “I broke a glass.”

Her hair is a wild tangle around her shoulders, spilling down to almost her waist. She looks like a goddess.

I want her.

She frowns. “Are you leaving?”

I clear my throat. “I was thinking about it. I should get home.”

It’s the truth. I should get home. I need to get home. There are things to take care of.

I just don’t want to go home.

Like a walking sex fantasy, she untangles herself, and crawls naked across the bed.

I groan, and my erection goes from hard to granite.

She slides off the bed, steps carefully around the glass, and walks with a deliberate sway in her hips. Her flaming red hair caresses her breasts as she moves, mesmerizing me. She straddles me, lowering herself onto my lap. My hands come up to clasp her waist.

She kisses me, her tongue sliding against mine, and regardless of how many times I’ve taken her instant lust rises fast and demanding, turning our mouths hungry and desperate.

She lifts her head and circles her hips along my jeans-covered shaft. “You don’t really want to go, do you?”

I am already unzipping my jeans. I stare at her swollen pussy, already wet for me. I want to fuck her bare. I don’t fuck anyone bare, but I want to feel the satin heat of her with no barriers. I meet her eyes. “Are you on birth control?”

She stills, and our gazes lock together. “Yes.”

I shimmy my jeans down my hips, and rub my cock along her slick opening. I only have one condom left and I don’t want to use it. Gritting my teeth at the sheer pleasure of it. “I’m going to fuck you without a condom.”

“Are you going to leave?”

“No.” I grip her hips, and a muscle works in my jaw as I enter her. Hot, wet, tight flesh slides down my cock. I still her, trying to will away the sensation of her around me, threatening to overtake me. Fingers tight on her, digging into her skin, I lean back against the chair and try to catch my breath. I manage to spit out, “I’ll apologize for this train wreck now, darlin’.”

She pulses around me, clearly enjoying the power she has over me. “Why’s it going to be a train wreck?”

“I haven’t fucked without a condom since I was fourteen.” She rolls her hips and the pleasure about kills me. “And you’re so goddamn tight, Gwen. And hot. And wet.” All the times I’ve taken her have made her impossibly swollen and she’s like a too tight glove.

“Because of you.” She moves, sliding up and down with her hands on my shoulders. “You’re so good, Jackson. It just feels so good.”

“So right.” I start thinking about baseball because all I want to do is explode inside her. I watch her tits bounce and sway. I cup one breast and slide it between my lips. Loving how she gasps and her rhythm picks up.

Against her nipple I say, “I hope you’re close because I am not going to be able to take much more.”

She picks up speed and I lean back to watch her, playing with the hard buds, pulling and pinching and rolling them against my fingers. “Tell me what you want, Gwyneth.”

I have no idea why I call her by her full name but her eyes fly open, locking on me. The blue practically burning, her expression is so wild, so untamed.

I pull harder as the demands of my body, the tight squeeze of her on my cock, grows unbearable.

“Tell me I’m yours.”

Fuck yes. I grip her hips, and slam her down as I surge up. When the chair creaks I wonder how much furniture we’ll break before this is through.

I meet her gaze. “You’re mine.”

“Yes.”

“No matter what.”

Her cunt convulses down my cock. “No matter what.”

“Is that what you want?” We’re playing with fire here, and the still rational part of my brain is telling me to stop, but when I’m inside her I cannot help it. “Tell me.”

“Yes.” The word is a gasp and she leans down and whispers in my ear, “I want everyone that looks at me to know. I want to be marked.”

At her words, I lose it, and start pounding into her, hard and fast and relentless.

Just as I’m about to go over, she flings back, thrusts out her breasts and starts coming, crying out my name like I’m fucking Jesus.

The climax rips from me, stealing my breath and my sanity as she milks every last drop of cum from me.

When we finally return to reality she lifts her head and whispers into the darkness, “Are you coming back to bed?”

I take my shirt off and fling it onto the floor. “Yes.”

She smiles, like Eve probably smiled at Adam. “Good.”

I am so fucked.