“Picnic.”
“Restaurant.” Two fingers now, dipping in and out of her heat, sliding, pushing, stroking. Her eyes wheeled, and she bit down on her bottom lip to keep her moans of pleasure stifled. “Paris or Rome?”
She shook her head against the wall. “Never seen either.” Her breath came in shattered gasps. “But Paris, I think.”
“I’ll take you to Rome,” he promised, “you’ll like it better, trust me.” He watched as pleasure etched itself into her features. He felt the tension in her climb, sensed how near she was to cl**ax and pushed her closer. His thumb stroked the most sensitive bud of flesh at the apex of her thighs as his fingers continued their ministrations.
She quivered, held onto his shoulders and dug her fingers into his bare skin. She rocked her h*ps into his hand, moving fretfully, anxiously, chasing the release she knew was just out of reach.
“Now we know each other,” he whispered, his mouth aligned with hers. He looked into her eyes, willed her to give herself to him.
“And we have nothing in common,” she told him.
“Do you care?” He touched her deeper, harder.
She groaned. “No.”
“Me neither,” he said. “No more excuses. So come for me. Let me watch you fall.”
“I can’t,” she said between harsh breaths, her h*ps moving, her head moving from side to side. “It’s too much. I can’t just—”
“Let go,” he demanded, his own hunger crashing through him. Gazes locked, Jackson felt her surrender and a moment later, watched as she splintered. He swallowed her moan with his mouth, taking her soft sighs and puffs of breath as his own. He felt her body contract around his fingers and continued to stroke her long after the last ripple had faded away.
Reluctant to release her, he finally picked her up, considered taking her back to her room and finally decided on his own. There at least, were condoms in the side table drawer. A few long steps and he was there. He carried her inside, kicking the door shut behind them. In his arms, her eyes were still glazed and her mouth was open, an invitation to a kiss.
He accepted and took her lips with his as he walked across his darkened room, following a swatch of moonlight that speared in through the wide bank of windows. Setting her down on the edge of the wide mattress, he wasted no time in grasping her robe and whipping it off of her, baring her body to his gaze. In the pale wash of light, her skin looked like the finest porcelain. Her ni**les were hardened tips of pale pink and the thatch of dark blond curls at the apex of her thighs tempted him.
“Jackson—” Even as she sat there, naked, he could see her mind working, providing reason after reason as to why this was a bad idea. Giving her plenty of excuses to call this off. To stop him before it was too late.
“No thinking tonight,” he said, shutting her down before she could get started. “Just feeling. We’re in this together, Casey. Let’s enjoy it.”
She laughed shortly and shook her head. “This isn’t why I came here. This isn’t what was supposed to happen.”
“This wasdestined to happen,” he argued, loosening the ties of his pajama bottoms and letting them fall to the floor.
She sucked in a breath.
“We both know it,” he said. “We’ve known it all along.”
Her gaze drifted over him and his already hard body tightened further. When she looked up, into his eyes, he reminded her, “From that first night, Casey, we were meant for this. Tell me you know it. You feel it.”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, shaking her head, licking her lips. “I don’t know what I feel anymore.”
“Let me help.” He set one knee on the mattress and pressed her back onto the bed. She stared up at him in the moonlight and Jackson felt a surging roar of need rise within. She touched something in him, made him crave like he’d never done before. She reached him in places no other woman had and though he didn’t want to take the time to explore those feelings, he definitely wanted to enjoy them.
He wanted her over, under and around him. He wanted her legs locked over his hips. He wanted her on top, taking him inside her heat. He wanted to watch her eyes flash with cl**ax. Wanted to hear her soft moans and desperate sighs. And he wasn’t willing to wait another moment for any of it.
Reaching to one side, he yanked open the bedside table drawer, pulled out a condom and ripped the foil covering off. Then he sheathed himself, shifted until he was standing between her legs looking down at her and then he smiled.
“Jackson—”
“You want this as much as I do, I know it. And so do you.”
She laughed, a tight groan of sound sliding from her throat as he scooped his hands beneath her behind and lifted. “You’re like a force of nature. You show up and take over. You’re even convinced you know what I want sexually.”
He quirked a brow at her. “You’re saying I’m wrong?” He positioned her legs around his h*ps and held her there until she’d locked her ankles at the small of his back.
“Would it matter?”
“Yes,” he said tightly, his fingers exploring her soft folds, caressing, dipping into her heat. “If you tell me to stop, I will.”
She hissed in a breath and lifted her h*ps even higher into his touch. “Don’t stop.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
“Have all the answers, do you?”
“Yeah.” The tip of his penis rested at her entrance. Everything in him urged him to plunge. To take. To ravish. To pleasure. And yet he waited. “I told you before, when I know what I want, I find a way to get it.”
She whimpered a little, scooted closer, claiming the very tip of him. “And when you’re finished taking charge, will you tell me when I’ve cl**axed?”
He laughed and pushed himself into her heat. “You’ll know, Casey. Trust me, you’ll know.”
Her legs tightened around his h*ps and he rocked into her. Heat devoured him, sensation enveloped him. She fisted her hands in the black silk sheets and held on as he moved in her over and over again, driving them both to the edge of madness, keeping them both teetering on the very brink of release.
Each time he felt her orgasm near, he pulled her back, deprived her of what she wanted, needed. He prolonged the pleasure for each of them, making each stroke a divine kind of torture.
He’d never known this all-encompassing wash of pleasure. He’d never felt so connected to a woman in his bed. He’d never watched her pleasure and felt it magnify his own. For a man who liked to be in charge of everything in his life, Jackson was suddenly sure that it was Casey driving this train.