“You don’t know need yet.” He pulled her tight against him, grazing his teeth over the ridge of her shoulder. He loved her taste, her softness, and the way her entire body reached for him, from her pert nipples to her rocking hips. Even after more than ten years of having sex whenever the urge struck, every time felt like the first—only better, hotter, because they both knew exactly how to get the other one off.
He unhooked her bra and tossed it away, then captured her mouth in a demanding kiss, taking, possessing, and reminding her that whatever happened, he was still right there with her. He knew their arrangement would end one day. Some lucky bastard would shatter the hurt of the past and fill all her needs. But for now he soaked her in. Their lips parted on a sigh, and his mouth traveled south to the tiny heart tattoo just above her left breast. He covered it with his mouth, licking the darkened image of the keyhole in the center. He’d taken her to get the tattoo when her parents had separated.
“Jackson,” she whispered. She opened his left hand and pressed a kiss to the tattoo of the key in the center of his palm.
His lips met hers in a tender kiss, and then he touched his forehead to hers as he pressed the tattoo he’d gotten the same day she’d gotten hers to her cheek. “One day you’ll find the right man, Laney. You won’t need me to keep your heart safe anymore. Until then, I’m right here.”
She didn’t say a word, just closed her eyes and arched against him again. He knew Laney wasn’t big on talking, and neither was he, except when it came to her feelings. He wanted her to feel safe and to know that no matter what had led her to him tonight, she was going to be okay.
He kissed her again, softly at first, then more urgently, as they both needed the release. He nipped at her lip, then moved lower, taking her ripe nipple into his mouth. He brushed his thumb over one taut peak while circling the tight bud of the other with his tongue, then sucking just hard enough that she whimpered with desire. The sexy little noises she made as she fisted her hands in his hair and pushed him lower sent a bolt of lust through him. He kissed and nipped his way down to her panties, hovering there, aching to taste her slick * but wanting to bring her more pleasure first. He kissed her inner thighs and stroked her hips with his large hands. She rocked into him as he ran his tongue along the crease between her sex and her thigh. Her scent was intoxicating, and when he licked her through her panties, the taste of her was almost too much to resist. It was her soft sigh of surrender that had him tearing her panties off. He loved that particular noise, so freeing, so feminine, and at least at this moment, made solely for him. He tossed her panties to the floor and removed her heels, dropping them across the room as her breathing quickened. Jackson laid her on the bed and came down over her, gazing into her needful eyes and kissing her like she was his—only his.
“Jackson…”
He knew what she needed, and he moved down between her legs, hiking one thigh over his shoulder. She gripped his shoulders as he brought his mouth to her hot, wet center. She tasted sweet and so damn fuckable he had to have more. He gripped her ass and angled her hips, opening her up to him as he slid his fingers inside her heat and circled her clit with his tongue with practiced precision.
She dug her nails into him as words streamed from her lips—“God…Jackson….Yes…More”—spurring him on. He felt her thighs tighten as he grazed his teeth over her clit and stroked hard with his tongue.
“Ohgodohgodohgod.”
He stroked her wetness, coating his fingers before sliding one into her ass. Her hips bucked off the mattress as she cried out his name, her inner muscles pulsating as the orgasm tore through her. Before she came down from the peak, he withdrew from her tight orifices, causing her to whimper with need, and moved up over her body.
“Hurry,” she pleaded.
“Honor?” Their code for the pact they’d made at seventeen, when she’d gone on the pill, to never have unprotected sex with anyone but each other, because sometimes the urge struck when they were ill prepared. This kept them both safe from disease.
“Always,” she said in a breathy voice.
He sealed his lips over hers as he thrust in deep. “Holy fuck you feel good,” he ground out against her mouth.
Their bodies moved in perfect, frenzied sync. He gripped her hips, thrusting harder, wanting to fill her completely and erase whatever’d had her tied in knots when she’d arrived. Her fingernails dug into his back. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d worn her scars, and he knew damn well it wouldn’t be the last. As their hips collided, she circled his waist with her legs.