The Mighty Storm (The Storm, #1)

He definitely knows how to touch a woman. But then he’s had a lot of practice.

I shove the thought aside Jake gently pushes my leg to the side, I part them further allowing him closer.

I can feel his erection digging in my thigh. I’m so turned on my whole body is trembling.

I’m nervous. I’ve never been this nervous with a guy before, not that I’ve been with many, well three to be exact.

But Jake’s different. He’s always been different.

And he’s slept with so many women, what if I don’t measure up? What if I’m a disappointment for him?

I’m also trying not to think about the fact that even though I promised myself earlier I wouldn’t become another number in Jake’s very long list, I’m well on my way to letting that happen, with no care, or inclination to stop.

His hand moves from my breast, down my body. Lifting up, he kneels between my legs, and it’s at that point I see he’s lost his towel.

Holy fuck, he is huge. And I mean huge.

I gulp down, worrying how the hell he’s going to actually fit inside me.

Jake sees my staring and grins.

I bite my lip to stop from passing comment, knowing I’ll probably come out with some lame shit and kill the moment.

His fingers hook into the top of my pyjama shorts and he starts to pull them down. I lift my bum, allowing them free, then put my leg to the side, so he can remove them fully.

I can’t take my eyes off him. I’m entranced, and I’m his completely.

As I’m moving my leg back around him, he grabs hold of it and kisses my leg, ever so lightly running his tongue over my skin, upwards, he travels higher and higher, teasing my skin with his tongue and light kisses until he reaches the apex of my thigh.

I feel heady with desire. All I want is him, now.

Lifting his head, he stares up at me. My mouth goes dry from that one look alone. I moisten my lips with my tongue.

His eyes flicker and flame. Without taking his eyes from mine, he slides his fingers between my panties and skin, then very gently he pushes his finger inside me. I almost come on the spot.

Rubbing his thumb over my sex, he starts to kiss a path up my stomach, to my neck, my jaw, my mouth, all the while, his fingers working their magic on me.

“Ahh,” I moan, closing my eyes.

“Is that good?” he asks rough.

“So good,” I breathe.

Needing to feel him, I reach my hand down and wrap my fingers around his hardness. Taking a firm hold, I start to move my hand, up and down.

He makes a low guttural sound in his throat, then pulls his finger out of me so quickly that I gasp.

Then he’s ripping my panties off. And when I say ripping, I mean he actually tears them off, shredding them. No one has ever done that to me before, and it’s insanely hot.

Leaving me wanting, he reaches down to the floor, picking his jeans up. I hear rustling and, then he’s returning with a condom in his hand and a question in his eyes.

He’s asking for my permission. He wants me to say yes.

I want to say yes. More than I’ve ever wanted anything before.

With trembling fingers, I take the condom from his hand and tear the foil open with my teeth.

His eyes are wide and flaming. His breath’s heavy.

He kneels before me.

I reach over, and with shaky fingers, put the condom on him. I can feel his body trembling under my hands.

It does extraordinary things to me. I’m literally panting with desire.

He moves between my legs, resting up on his arms, hovering over me, he starts to kiss me hard on the mouth again.

I grab hold of his backside pulling him closer to me. I just want him inside me. I want him so much. I’m aching to feel him. Years and years of wanting him, coursing through me.

He pauses, breathing heavily and lifts himself up on his arms, away from me, parting our bodies. “You’ve been drinking, Tru. Maybe we shouldn’t do this now, maybe we should wait.”

What? Is he joking?

I look up at him. No, he isn’t.

He waits until we’re this close to pause. To think.

I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to think. And I’m the one who really should be thinking right now out of the two of us.

My body is screaming for him. I need him to relive the ache I have for him. The one that has been trapped in me for well over a decade.

I lift my hips, meeting back with him, pressing against him. “I’ve waited long enough,” I breathe.

Whatever control he was trying to maintain instantly vanishes.

Then he’s back on me, pressing me into the bed, fisting my hair, kissing me deeply, holding me in place.

I kiss him back equally as passionate, my hands on his back, gripping him to me.

I want him so badly, but now I’m also feeling a little nervous about his size.

Jake must sense this, because he whispers, “Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow.”

He slides his hand under my lower back, lifting me up, he very gently, and very slowly eases himself into me.

I gasp, all but convulsing on the spot. He is filling me and more.

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