“I want to feel you come all over me, okay, sugar? I want to feel you getting tighter and tighter as you come all over my dick and my fingers. Can you do that for me?”
I can’t speak. I can only nod. Jamie leans back and pushes himself slowly inside me. “Damn it, Soph,” he hisses. “You feel fucking good.”
I feel so full as he works both his cock and his fingers inside me, thrusting both into me at the same time, carefully, slowly, deeply, making me shake and shiver. It’s like nothing I’ve experienced before. Nothing I’ve ever come close to feeling, and it’s amazing.
“I can feel myself inside you,” Jamie says. “I can feel my cock getting harder.”
I nod, clenching my jaw. “So can I. It feels incredible.” And it does. Jamie rubs his free hand lightly up and down my back. I want to feel his hands all over me, stroking me, caressing me, but he’s kind of busy, and I’m kind of enjoying what he’s doing too much to stop him.
“Holy fuck.” Jamie digs his fingers into my back, slamming himself into me harder now. I can tell he wants to fuck the sense right out of me, but he’s holding back. He doesn’t want to be too rough when he’s fingering my ass at the same time. I almost want him to, though. I want to feel like I’m being owned. I want to feel like my body is not my own for just five minutes. It’s a strange, dangerous thought. I push back against him, forcing him deeper as he fucks me. Jamie slaps my ass with his free hand, growling.
“Is that how it is, sugar? Is that what you want?”
“Yes. Fuck, Jamie, please. Fuck me harder.” I’m sure I sound like a clichéd porn star, begging to get pounded on by some gigantor-dicked playboy, but my pleas are genuine. I want him. Need him. Must have him.
Jamie obliges me.
My eyes roll back into my head as he speeds up, thrusting into me over and over again, and I can’t keep myself together anymore. I feel like I’m sinking into the mattress, my ass still sticking up in the air as Jamie fucks me, and it’s as though I’m rising up out of my body. I feel weightless, feather-light, seconds away from hitting the ceiling. Jamie groans as he slides his finger in and out of my ass.
“You ready now, sugar?” he asks me. “You ready to come for me?”
“Yes. I can’t hold out much longer.”
“Then don’t. Let it happen. Come for me, baby. Come on.” The very last of his will power apparently burns off; he doesn’t hold back anymore. I feel like I’m being lit up from the inside as Jamie slams himself into me. I feel drunk, high, lost and found all at once. When the first rushes of my orgasm hit me, they hit with brute force strength, undeniable and unstoppable. Jamie must feel it, must feel the difference in me, because he starts swearing again.
“Oh my god, Jamie. I can’t—I can’t—” I lose the ability to speak altogether. I can only pant and moan and cry out as I’m swept away in the riptide. Jamie roars as he comes with me. He removes his finger and takes hold of me by the hips with both hands, and he fucks me hard and deep. We writhe against each other as the pleasure wanes, sensitive and stupid from the endorphins flooding our systems, and Jamie strokes my body, peppering me with light kisses all over my back.
Eventually he pulls out and lies down next to me. He smiles, brushing my hair out of my face. “You’re very flushed,” he announces. “Seems to me someone just had the servicing of her life.”
I stick my tongue out at him, lifting my heavy arm so I can playfully pinch his nipple. “Nope. I got the servicing of my life last week from a guy named Rebel.”
Jamie pretends to scowl. “I hear that guy’s an asshole.”
“He is. But I love him.”
Now he frowns. “I thought you loved me?”
“I do. I love you both. More than I should, I’m sure.”
He grins, waggling his eyebrows. “Good thing I’m not a jealous guy.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to him so that my head is resting on his chest once more. The sun is still bullying its way through the gap in the curtains, laying in thick gold bars across our bodies. Jamie runs his fingers up and down the leg I’ve thrown over his body, tangled up in his own legs. His fingers don’t deviate outside of the thick band of sunlight that marks my skin.
We lay like that for a long time, him stroking my hair and my body, humming quietly, until Carnie comes and hollers that he wants his damn breakfast through the cabin door. I tame my hair, throw some clothes on and leave, kissing Jamie on the forehead before I go. I know that when I kiss him later on down in the compound, whenever he drags his lazy out of his bed, I won’t be kissing the same person anymore. I’ll be kissing Rebel, the president of the Widow Makers Motorcycle Club, but it will still be as perfect. It will still be as magical.
CHAPTER TWO
CADE