“Such a pleasant dream, though.” He moves quickly, shifting out from underneath me, throwing one leg over mine and pinning me to the mattress. Taking hold of both my hands, he secures my wrists high above my head. Not for the first time, the pale icy blue of his eyes shocks me. They’re beautiful. Haunting. He’s so incredible I can hardly bear it. His torso, packed with muscle, is covered in tattoos—some in Farsi, some in English. Two colorful birds rest on either side of his pecs, and an intricate skull complete with thorns and roses covers his side. Beneath, the words: Forgive Me Father, For I Have Sinned.
The last tattoo is fairly ironic, given that Jamie could care less about his father. Or these days he doesn’t, anyway. Louis James Aubertin II is a megalomaniac. One of the most vile, spiteful people I’ve ever come across. How Jamie didn’t end up the same way is a mystery. He leans down, rubbing the tip of his nose against mine. “Were you planning on riding your Ducati today?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Good.” He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and bites down hard. “I’m about to fuck you senseless, sugar. By the time I’m done with you, you’re not gonna be able to sit down properly for a week.”
Heat flowers all over my body. God, I don’t know how he still does this to me. I have a very limited frame of reference—my ex, Matt, was hardly the most sexual person on the face of the planet—but I’m pretty sure most people grow comfortable with each other. The intensity of first love burns off, to be replaced by something calmer and deeper if you’re lucky. But with him, with Jamie, that hasn’t happened. The fire that existed between us from the very beginning still remains, burning strong, coupled with such a fathomless love that only seems to strengthen as the seconds pass. I never knew a person could feel like this and stay sane. The power of such a love constantly feels like it’s about to overwhelm me, rob me of my senses, take what little control I have left within me and dash it into pieces. And it feels incredible.
Jamie shakes his head as he looks down at me. He has this way of staring into me that makes my head spin. I don’t feel like I’m me when he looks at me like this. From the expression on his face, it seems as though he’s seeing something magnificent and beautiful for the very first time and it’s bringing him to his knees. There’s no way he can be seeing me, the girl he calls sugar. I’ve seen myself in the mirror, after all. I know I’m not an entirely unattractive girl, but Jamie’s reaction to me always takes me by surprise. Dipping down, he presses his mouth against mine and hums. I love kissing this man. Our bodies were made for each other, and so were our mouths. When he kisses me, it feels like I’m coming alive. I melt into the bed, allowing my body to fall limp as he increases the pressure of his lips against mine. His bare chest brushes against mine, making my nipples tighten and grow hyper sensitive, and Jamie breathes out hard—I can see the way the contact affects him, his skin breaks out in goose bumps.
He’s so warm. Groaning softly, he lowers himself down onto me and I feel like I’m suddenly on fire, prickling all over from the heat he’s kicking out of his body. Using one knee, Jamie pushes my legs apart and adjusts his position so that he’s in between them. His cock is hard already, trapped between our bodies, placed in a position that sends waves of excitement through me. He angles his hips up and presses forward, and it feels like my whole body is surging with electricity. My clit is already swollen, my pussy already wet—Jamie feels just how wet I am and swears under his breath.
“Jesus Christ, Soph. You have no idea what that does to me. Fuck. You’re always so ready for me. Always so turned on. You’re so fucking sexy. I can smell it on you.”
A long time ago, I would have blushed at this. I would have tried to hide my face in embarrassment, buried myself under the covers and tried not to break down from mortification. Now, I know better. I know that he really does mean it. When I’m turned on, he’s turned on. It works both ways. And he’s right—he can smell how turned on I am, because I can smell it on him, too. He smells like sex in the very best way. His body puts out the most intense, amazing scent when he’s about to fuck me, and my own body responds in kind. It drives me absolutely crazy.
“D’you wanna get punished now, Soph?” Jamie licks at my lips, tracing the tip of his tongue over my mouth, and I can’t help myself. I arch my back up off the bed, crushing my breasts against his body, moaning.
“That depends. How are you going to punish me?”
“You’re not cleared for that information, I’m afraid.” He nips at my top lip, pinching my flesh between his teeth just hard enough to make me cry out. “But I can show you if you’d like. Sound good?”