I watched as Jeremy wiped the evidence of my arousal on his mouth with the back of his hand, casual but somehow still sexy, and then he leaned down, kissing me deep, letting me taste myself on him.
It was filthy and yet so intimate, and I pulled him closer, needing him, needing this. God help me, I loved tasting myself on him. What is happening to me?
As we kissed, his hand slipped behind me, fingers deftly unhooking my bra with a skill that made my pulse skip. He broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to slide the straps off my shoulders, easing the bra away.
My breath hitched as it fell, leaving me bare, and I watched his eyes rake over my breasts. The way he looked at me, hungry and reverent, told me everything. He liked what he saw. No, he loved it.
"So damn beautiful," he murmured, his voice a low growl, and then his hand cupped one of my breasts, warm and tender, his calloused thumb brushing over my nipples and slightly pinched until I shivered.
I'd always hated this part, being exposed, and soon silly doubts crept in despite the look I saw in his eye a moment ago, but as I attempted to hide my breasts from him, Jeremy quickly stopped me, pushing my hands away.
"Don't hide yourself from me, princess," he instructed.
Oh God…I love hearing him call me that.
He shifted closer, his body pressing against mine, and I felt him, hard, through his pants. I became impatient and wanted to see all of him, my hands moved on their own, fumbling with the zipper.
He chuckled at my impatience as he helped, kicking them off until he was as naked as me. The sight of him, all muscle, all man, stole my breath, but it was the way he looked at me that undid me. Like I was the prize.
He guided me back onto the bed, the sheets cool against my skin, and I watched him take out a condom from the bedside drawer, tear off the wrapper with his teeth, and skillfully put it on.
He settled between my legs again, this time aligning himself with me. "Look at you," he whispered, his voice rough with want as he nudged against me, slow and teasing.
"Every inch of you is perfect." I gasped as he pushed in, just a little, stretching me to accommodate his size, and my hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging in.
"Your body's a goddamn masterpiece," he said, easing deeper, his eyes locked on mine.
My head tipped back, a moan spilling out as he filled me completely, slow and deliberate, letting me feel every bit of him. "That's it," he murmured, his lips brushing my ear, his breath hot. "You're gorgeous like this, taking me like such a good girl that you are."
His praises heightened the pleasure I felt and I moaned louder. "Jeremy please…" I had no idea what I was begging for.
He started to move, a steady rhythm that had my hips rising to meet him. His hands roamed over my hips, my thighs, my breasts, mapping me like I was something sacred.
"These curves," he growled, thrusting deeper, "they are fucking gorgeous. Don't ever hide them."
I whimpered, my legs wrapping around him, pulling him closer, and he groaned, low and raw. "You feel so good, Gia," he said, his voice breaking with it, his forehead pressing to mine. "Every part of you, beautiful, every damn part."
His pace picked up, but his words kept coming, soft and fierce like he needed me to hear it. "Your hips, your thighs, fuck, they're perfect. You're perfect." I clung to him, my body trembling, heat building fast, and he kissed me, deep and messy, swallowing my cries. I have never felt this way before, so intense, so consuming.
"Let go for me, beautiful," he whispered against my ear. "Show me how stunning you are when you come."
And I did, shattering beneath him, my whole body arching as waves crashed through me, louder and sharper than before. He kept talking me through it, "So sexy, so beautiful."
And soon, he followed a rough groan tearing from him as he buried himself deep, holding me tight.
He kissed my temple, soft now, and murmured, "You're beautiful, don't ever think otherwise."
Slowly, he slipped out of me, and my body mourned the loss of him. My eyes travelled downwards and that's when I saw the tear in the condom and my eyes went wide with shock. Jeremy followed my line of sight and swore.
"Fuck."
The condom had broken and none of us had noticed. He got out of bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom and discarded the condom.
When he came back, his face was tight, unreadable. "Don't worry," he said, sitting beside me. "I'm clean."
"I am too," I said, my voice shaky with relief. "I got tested after the breakup."
He nodded, still watching me, something flickering in those blue eyes. "I'll go get you a morning-after pill," he added, hesitant.
I shook my head. "You don't need to worry, I'm on the pill."
He didn't look convinced, so I added. "Trust me, having a child right now is the last thing on my mind." That seemed to ease him, his shoulders relaxing as he turned and went back into the en-suite bathroom and then walked back with a wet washcloth.
I watched with awe as Jeremy knelt on the bed and cleaned me up with so much care. Is this man even real?
When he was done, he returned to the bathroom and then got back in bed and pulled me into his arms, his skin warm against mine.
"How you feeling?" he asked, voice soft with concern. "Was I too rough?"
His words gentle, and caring, almost made my eyes water. No one I'd been with ever asked that. Preston? He'd roll over and snore the second he was done like I wasn't even there. Jeremy's concern, the way he looked at me, undid me.
"Was I?" he pressed, worry creasing his brow.
"No," I whispered, shaking my head. "You were perfect. I feel perfect." I pushed closer, my body brushing his, and let a smile slip out. "How about we go again? And this time don't hold back."
He groaned, low and primal, and slammed into me, with no hesitation, all heat and need. "You're fucking killing me," he growled against my neck, thrusting hard, his hands gripping my hips.
I moaned, loud and free, and let him take me again, feeling beautiful, powerful, wanted, and everything I'd never known I could be.