Page 90 of Work It Out
He moaned, and she was on him. She kept her fist around the base of his cock, but the head disappeared between her lips, into the soft, wet heat of her mouth. His eyes crossed in pleasure so intense, it flirted with pain. Ruthless in her assault, she worked him in a rhythm devised to separate his mind from his body.
Too soon he was twisting his fist in her hair, silently begging for mercy. “Rayah, you’ve gotta stop. I can’t hold out. Too good.”
She released him with a pop, but her hand continued its torture as she stared up at him through her lashes. “I don’t want you to hold back.” She pulled against his grip on her hair and moaned. “I want it all.”
Her words nearly finished him. Then he saw what her other hand was up to.
“Fuck me,” he whispered to himself. She was pumping his dick in slow, agonizing strokes with one hand and rubbing her clit with the other, squirming and biting her lip like she couldn’t wait another second.
And still he hesitated. What if—
“Please, Chris,” she said, using his given name for the first time. The sheen of tears in her eyes threw him until she whispered, “I need to know what it’s like with someone you love.”
They froze, his hand wrapped in her hair, hers tight on his throbbing cock. Slowly, he untangled his fingers. This moment deserved softness and care. He snaked one arm out of the shower to grab a towel off the rack and dropped it between them for her knees, then cradled the back of her head in his palm. “Take what you want, cupcake, anything you want. I’m yours.”
A tear spilled onto her cheek, but as she situated the towel under her knees, she smiled like he’d given her a gift. Truth was, she’d given him more than he could ever repay, but damned if he wouldn’t try.
Later.
Her tongue trailed fire up his shaft before she gripped the base and slipped her lips over the head once more. Jake slapped one palm against the wall beside her head and prayed for enough strength to not embarrass himself.
“Touch yourself, cupcake. Touch that hot, sweet pussy for me.” He palmed her breast. Her body undulated as she worked them both, and he’d never been so turned on in his life. Worrying her pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he tugged with the rhythm of her strokes. Rayah groaned, the sound vibrating up his cock and straight to his spine.
He tweaked her nipple with just a hint more pressure, and she was gone, her body shaking, the hum of her moans shoving him over the edge with her. He tried to pull back, but she followed, sucking harder, refusing to relinquish her prize.
That was what she made him feel like, her prize, and whether she knew it or not he, much like the pig, was hers for life.
Chapter Thirty
November 9
From: [email protected]
Still holding out on me? Fine.
Just remember, I told you you’d be sorry.
-Dad
Rayah woke the next morning sore in all the right places and smiling like an idiot.
She’d told a man she loved him, then given him a killer blow job, and she hadn’t even wanted to puke. For years, the only men she’d had any interest in loving were her boys—reluctantly and only because they were safe. They were amazing guys, but they were brothers. She’d never been in real danger of fallinginlove with them, even Blaine.
Jake was different. She’d known that from the start, but she hadn’t really understood it before last night. He hadn’t given the words back to her, a fact for which she was grateful. She wouldn’t have believed him, would’ve balked if he’d called her out for having uttered the sentiment to begin with. But then, Jake knew her better than she knew herself. Sometimes he stumbled over her triggers, but he learned from them and respected them, even as he joked his way around them like a hilarious love ninja.
He hadn’t said he loved her. Instead, he’d showed her.
For hours and hours.
Her stupid grin went up a few hundred watts. All through the stormy afternoon, he’d made love to her, slow and tender. In the dark hours of the night, he’d fucked her down and dirty, doing things to her body she’d never have thought she’d like and wouldn’t have trusted any other man to try. Yet, even in the filthiest moments, there’d been so much love in his eyes, in his touch, that even she, queen of the cynics, couldn’t deny the way he felt about her.
Christopher Declan Moloughney, the man at the heart of the star, loved her. More than that, he’d shown her how to love herself.
The space beside her was empty, but that just meant she’d have to hunt him down to…show her gratitude. Rayah stretched, the muscles in her back and thighs satisfyingly tight. She was bendy, but Jake was inventive.
He couldn’t have gone far. Surely, nothing started the day off right like a thank-you blow job. She threw back the blanket with a mightywhooshand padded out into the living room in nothing but her thong and a lacy cami, breasts bobbing and nipples pressing against the thin fabric. For once, she felt like a model on the runway, because she knew he’d love the view.
