Jack closed his eyes for a moment, savoring her touch after so long. 'I know. It was complete hell. But now that the house is done, how do you feel? About us. Giving it a try, I mean. You said, no strings before. But how about now? I feel like there are strings in place already, don't you?'
'Yeah, there are definitely some strings. Powerful, thick ones. More like ropes.'
Jack couldn’t wait any longer to touch her. He’d been thinking about this moment for months and now she was here, looking up at him with huge crystal blue eyes filled with desire. For him. He couldn’t believe it. It was like all of those fevered dreams, the ones that left him hard and aching in the night, were finally coming true.
He reached out with one callused palm and cupped her cheek. Her skin was incredibly soft compared to his large, callused fingers. He trailed his thumb across her rosebud-pink, lower lip and was completely shocked when her tongue darted out and touched his thumb delicately.
He groaned. He couldn’t help it. The erotic sight of her silky tongue touching him, any part of him, even his thumb made him grow instantly hard and impatient to possess her. It took all of his control to be gentle as he lifted her chin, and lowered his mouth to kiss her.
She tasted so sweet and her body felt very soft and warm against him. Her hands on his chest now gripped his shirt tightly, as if to imprison him. Her lemony scent enveloped him and he felt almost drunk on all of the combined sensations. He was finding it incredibly difficult to ignore his body and its rampant demands to plunge his tongue deeply into her mouth, to simulate how he wanted to slide his hard cock deep into her body and claim her. But he really needed to be gentle. This moment with her mattered and he desperately wanted to show her that this wasn’t just about satisfying an itch and moving on. He wanted to please her. Make her cry out in pleasure.
To distract himself from the intensity of his desires he focused completely on her mouth, rubbing his lips against hers from one direction and then another, just barely touching her. Allowing his warm breath to tickle across her skin, he tasted her.
Jack's approach to kissing her this evening was remarkably chaste and yet carnal at the same time. Her nerve endings came alive at the slightest brush of his lips and she longed for him to relieve some of the tension by touching her more aggressively. But one hand still cupped her cheek gently, and the other never strayed from her waist.
Lacey couldn’t take anymore. She made an impatient sound and let go of the death grip she had on his shirt. Reaching up, she grasped both her arms around his neck, and finally brought her breasts flush against his hard chest. Her nipples, within the lacy cups of her bra, grew hard and unbearably sensitive. Taking control of the kiss he had been torturing her with for what seemed like hours, she touched her tongue to his top lip and traced its curve with just the tip. Then she gripped the silky hair at the back of his head tightly and plunged her tongue deeply between his lips, showing him exactly what she wanted and how she wanted it.
“You are driving me completely crazy,” he groaned against her lips. “Do you know what you’re doing to me? I feel like I’m about to explode.” He reached down and gripped her buttocks with both hands, lifting her slightly so she could feel him so hard against her soft mound. He flexed his hips against her and they both groaned at the sensation. She parted her thighs slightly and he could feel her heat through their clothing and underwear. Imagining her wet and ready for him made him wild. He lifted her higher and was delighted when she wrapped both warm thighs around his waist and locked her ankles in the small of his back.
“You feel so good, but you have entirely too many clothes on,” she whispered huskily, tightening her thighs around him to relieve some of the tension between her legs. He obliged by squeezing her more tightly against the prominent ridge in his pants. Her breath caught and she writhed against him, wanting to feel the evidence of his arousal more fully, but it wasn’t enough.
She desperately wanted to taste his skin. She brought her hands down from his neck and began unbuttoning his shirt. She made quick work of the buttons but was appalled to find a white T-shirt underneath. She yanked the shirt clumsily from the waistband of his pants, reached underneath, and ran her hands along his rippling abs, through the silky hair in the middle of his chest, and finally brushed his nipples with her nails.
His breathing became harsh and he found her lips with his, kissing her deeply, his tongue rasping against hers in a primal dance of domination. He walked back out the bathroom door and down the short hall toward the kitchen's granite island, every movement causing electric currents of friction to ignite in his aching cock. He placed her gently on the edge of the counter, moved back a step and looked deeply into her eyes for a second while he caressed the silky skin above the tops of her boots. Finally, his hands were free and he was going to touch her as much as he liked.
“I want you to spread your thighs wider,” he said, watching her. She complied and moved her legs apart just a few more inches. He was so glad she had worn the dress with the full skirt. It gave him much easier access to her sweet little body and he really couldn’t wait too much longer to touch her, everywhere.
“Wider,” he said, reaching underneath her skirt he pushed gently against the inside of her knees. Now she was fully open and he could just catch the scent of her arousal. He breathed in deeply through his nostrils, drinking her in.
He stepped between her widely opened thighs until his pelvis was right where he wanted it. He rubbed against her gently and she gripped his hips tightly with both hands to keep him there. The small feminine gasps she made as he ground himself against her were driving him completely mad. She was so warm there between her open thighs that he had the crazy impulse to just rut against her until he came like a teenager in his pants. But he took a deep breath instead and reached behind him, pulling his shirts off in one quick economical gesture, and flung them carelessly onto the granite beside her.
Lacey could not believe what she was looking at. His chest was incredibly beautiful, wide and hard and sculpted with muscle. Reaching out, she smoothed both hands over his body from waist to shoulder and then back again. His skin was so warm and silky. Leaning forward, she flicked her tongue against one flat copper nipple and was rewarded when he rasped out a curse and gripped her head with both hands to keep her lips on him. She moved to the other nipple and flicked that one too. He groaned and she reached behind him and ran both hands up his gorgeously muscled back, and finally, very slowly trailed them down to squeeze his buttocks. Twice.
How could he have denied himself this? Jackson thought, looking down at Lacey as she trailed her lips across his chest. He needed it so badly. Her touch. This connection with another person. It had been so long. How had he survived without it? Without her? If he had his way, everyday would be spent pleasing her, if only he could have her like this, wanting him, needing him. But also giving him the affection he had so desperately craved.
He loosened his hold on her head and ran his fingers through her long hair, loving the silky feel of it around his hands. He desperately wanted to see it spread out on a pillow as he hovered about her, imagined sliding between her legs as he penetrated her hot, slippery flesh. The fantasy was so vivid in his mind, he could practically feel her parting for him, accepting him eagerly, as he pounded his shaft hard and deep until she sighed his name.
He grasped the knotted belt tied at the side of her wrap dress, untied the bow and yanked the two sides of the dress apart, perhaps a little too roughly in his eagerness. But she just laughed at his less than smooth manner of undressing her and he smiled into her eyes for a moment. More gently, he took his time sliding the long sleeves down her arms, kissing her shoulder and then the sensitive inside of her elbow as he went until the dress was pooled around her lovely hips. He spread it out around her until she was perched on the edge of the granite countertop in nothing but her bra and panties. “Lie back,” he said, his voice raw with desire. “I want to look at you.”
Lacey hesitated. She would much rather look at him. Being nearly naked under the harsh light of the pendant lanterns hanging over the island seemed daunting. All her flaws would be highlighted against the cold, slippery granite. What if he noticed that her stomach wasn’t perfectly flat, or that she had a small appendix scar on her abdomen? Thank God, she'd made a visit to her waxer, Wilhemina, this week. But she was determined to move past her insecurities, so instead of covering her chest as she felt compelled to do, she slowly and somewhat gracefully lay back on the countertop, and raised her arms above her head in a gesture of complete trust and surrender.
Jackson was awe-struck. He hadn’t spent a lot of time with her but he knew Lacey usually dressed to camouflage her body. Except for that memorable afternoon she'd shown up in the sports bra and shorts, her clothes were usually al ittle too big, and somewhat shapeless. And for this he was eternally grateful because if he’d known what she was hiding under her T-shirts and jeans, he would have been walking around with a permanent erection all day and wouldn’t be able to get any work done at all.
It was crude, but it was a fact. The girl had major curves. The cups of her bra were overflowing and he cupped those wonderful scoops of flesh with reverence. He was a breast man. He knew it was wrong to objectify women,
