I Wish You Were Mine (Oxford #2)

Mollie’s eyes closed as he dipped his head again, pressing hot kisses to the sensitive skin of her neck.

He pulled back, framing her face with his big hands, waiting until she opened her eyes and met his gaze.

“Come to bed with me.”

She smiled. “Haven’t I been doing that for weeks now?”

Instead of responding, he moved his hands over hers restlessly, a little urgently.

Something was wrong. She could feel it.

“Jackson—”

His mouth closed over hers, his lips nudging hers open so his tongue could sweep in and claim hers. It was a possessive kiss. His hands were greedy as they cupped her face, his fingers moving back to tangle in her hair.

Jackson caught her bottom lip between his teeth and Mollie moaned, giving herself over to him. Whatever they needed to figure out—and there was plenty—they’d figure it out tomorrow.

He kissed her for long minutes, claiming her mouth—claiming her—until he finally gentled the kiss and then pulled back. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his jaw tense, as though suddenly doubting the wisdom of his own plan.

Mollie didn’t give him a chance to change his mind. She reached for his hand and led him toward the bedroom. She headed toward her room, but he pulled her to a stop outside the master bedroom.

Mollie glanced back in confusion. They’d always slept in her room. She didn’t know if it was because that was where their first time had happened or because the guest room had a temporary element that they’d both needed, but she’d never slept with him in his room. Not for sleep, not for sex.

Tonight, however, Jackson apparently planned to change that.

He tugged her into his bedroom, hooking a hand behind her neck, his thumb stroking her jaw before he kissed her softly, lingeringly. As though he was trying to tell her something.

But what?

Moving toward the bed, they left the lamps off, letting the twinkling lights of the Manhattan skyline guide them.

Jackson gently turned her around so that her back was to him, and she gasped when she felt his lips brush the exposed skin of her back as he kissed around the straps of her dress.

His hands skimmed down her body, finding the hem of her dress and dragging it slowly upward. Mollie lifted her arms over her head as he pulled it off and tossed it aside, so she stood only in panties and her high heels before him.

“Mollie,” he whispered, resting a warm palm against her stomach, pulling her back against his chest as he buried his face in her neck.

His hands slid up to cup her breasts, his fingers toying with her nipples, and she cried out his name.

“Yes,” he whispered, giving her a light pinch before turning her around to face him.

Together they removed his clothes, kissing in between buttons.

Mollie sat on the bed to remove her shoes before scooting back to the middle as Jackson set a knee on the bed and followed her.

He held her eyes as he hooked his fingers along the waistband of her thong, tossing it aside so they were both naked and longing.

Jackson’s eyes locked on hers, and Mollie lay back as he climbed over her. Her breath caught at the intensity in his gaze—at the intensity she felt.

He levered his weight to one elbow, lifting the other hand so that his fingers could touch her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“What are we doing?” she whispered.

He gave her a sexy smile. “Well, we haven’t done anything yet.”

“No, I meant—”

“I know what you meant.” His fingers slid down to her chin, holding her face steady so she had no choice but to look at him. “What we’re doing—it’s been crazy. Maybe a little reckless. And I sure as hell didn’t see it coming. But I can tell you that these past weeks, they’ve been…they made me feel alive. More alive than I’ve felt in a long time.”

Mollie’s eyes watered. As far as declarations went, it was a long way from I love you, but it made her heart soar all the same.

She pulled his mouth down to hers, pouring into her kiss all of the emotion that she couldn’t put into words.

He kissed her back, slowly and hungrily.

He slipped a knee between hers, and Mollie spread her legs as he settled his weight between them.

His cock nudged her opening, and he groaned. “Baby—”

“Now,” she whispered against his cheek. “Please, now.”

“But—”

She dug her nails into his back to urge him forward. Tonight she didn’t need extended foreplay. She didn’t want to tease and play. She wanted him. Had been ready for him since the moment he’d reached for her.

He tilted his head back to watch her face as he slid into her, his jaw clenching when he was settled all the way inside her.

Jackson dipped his head forward to her shoulder as he began to move. Mollie wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust, their pace riding that fine line between urgent and patient, as they struggled to make it last even as they reached for ecstasy.