Okay, so Jendan had a knack of saying the right thing. I let him pull my body against his, one of my knees sliding over his thigh. When he encouraged the other, I followed his lead, and then I was seated atop him, facing him, his c**k pressed between our bodies and my br**sts in his face.
His mouth dragged across my nipple, taking it into his mouth and toying at it with his teeth. I moaned and closed my eyes, clinging to him and enjoying the sensations rippling through me. I loved breast play, and Jendan was terrific at it. His other hand massaged and teased my breast in tandem with his mouth, until I was squirming and writhing on his lap, my breathing coming in short, gaspy pants of need.
Then, Jendan’s hand slid between us and his fingers stroked through my folds. He groaned against my breast. “You’re so goddamn wet, Annabelle. God, I want to put my mouth on you.”
I quivered at the mental image. “You do?”
“Yes.” He nipped at the tip of my breast and then looked up at me, giving it one last, lingering lick that implied all kinds of naughty things for my other body parts. “Let me go down on you.”
“Well, I’m not going to tell you no,” I said, a nervous, excited hitch in my voice.
He turned to the side, dumping me on the couch with my legs still around him. Jendan slid downward, between my parted thighs, and before I could wonder what he was doing, buried his face between my legs.
I gasped, startled and titillated all at once. Okay, I had not expected that. He seemed so…eager to go down on me. That was not my normal experience. I’d learned not to ask for o**l s*x, since a lot of the guys I’d dated in the past hadn’t been eager on that front. If it happened, great. If not, no big deal.
But Jendan was a man with a mission, and that mission was clear. His tongue slid through my folds, licking me up and down. I shivered when he stroked across my clitoris. That seemed to encourage him to zoom in on that spot, and he began licking and sucking on that tiny piece of aching flesh, his fingers circling at my core, driving me wilder and wilder until I was writhing on the couch, begging for more and more.
When I came, I came so hard that stars burst behind my eyes. I gave a tiny little wail, my thighs clamping around his face, and that only made him suck harder. I came down slowly, every inch of my body feeling languid and marvelous.
Jendan moved on top of me again and kissed me, his mouth tasting of my orgasm. “Be right back.”
“I’ll be right here,” I said languidly, stretching out on my sofa. Okay, so I’d have to flip the cushions to hide the wet spot, but I didn’t care. I was feeling too darn good.
He got up from the couch, headed to his bag, and I closed my eyes, luxuriating in how good I felt. A moment later, I heard the rip of a condom package. A pause, and then Jendan was back on top of me, his mouth pressing hot against mine as I felt his c**k nudge against my core.
“Annabelle,” he murmured, and then pushed into me, exquisitely slowly.
I moaned, lifting my h*ps to encourage him to move faster, but it seemed that Jendan wanted to take his sweet time now that he’d made me come. Each stroke seemed to last an eternity, and was clearly intended to drive me wild until I was clawing his back with need. He knew how to angle our h*ps just so, to where his c**k drilled against my g-spot, making me erupt with a shrill little scream at each rock of his hips.
Within moments, I was crying out with a second, even fiercer orgasm. Jendan’s thrusts took on a wild edge, and then he was pushing into me so hard that the entire couch was rocking with the force of our movements, and my br**sts bounced wildly with each stroke. “Jendan,” I gasped, my toes curling. I hadn’t come down from my last orgasm yet, and another one seemed to be barreling right in my direction. “Oh God! Keep going!”
His response was to clamp a hand on my shoulder and hammer into me harder than before. When he came with a groan of my name and a wild surge of his hips, I was right there with him, orgasming for an un-heard of third time in one session.
Damn, the man was good.
We lay clasped together, panting and sweating from our turbulent lovemaking. I ran a finger along his shoulders, feeling utterly content. How funny to go from the pits of despair to post-coital rapture in the space of one afternoon.
As if sensing the turn of my thoughts, Jendan kissed my breast and glanced up at me. “I should have called you.”
“Mm, you should have.” Was I angry? I couldn’t remember. I felt too good.
His fingers began to tease one of my ni**les erect again, even as he spoke. “There was just so much to do to get ready to come out here. All I could think about was seeing you again.”
“Apology accepted,” I told him, and squirmed when he flicked my nipple. “So…wanna move in?”
He laughed, grinning up at me. “Is this the part where most guys say things are moving too fast? Because…I do want to move in. I have a hard time sleeping without you beside me. I think our time on the beach ruined me for alone time. It’s not nearly as pleasant as being with you.”
“Why, Jendan,” I teased. “Is that a declaration of love?”
“Not yet,” he told me. “But give me a week.”
Epilogue
Six Months Later
The Endurance Island finale crowd roared when I came onto the stage. They’d cheered when Alys had arrived, but my fans were deafening. I waved happily, loving the moment. How different this was from last year when I’d had to hang my head in shame over my portrayal.
No longer. This year, I was a bad-ass.
I’d been worried when the show had begun to air, concerned that I’d get a bad edit again. Jendan, that sweet, patient man, had been calming my fears for months on end, but the proof would be when the show actually aired. To my surprise, I’d gotten a fabulous edit. Instead of looking like a villain or a jerk, they’d spun me as a woman scorned and out for revenge, and even my dirtiest moves were edited in a positive light.
Well, almost all of them. The episode where I’d had to vote Jendan off had won me some mixed reviews and online haters, but they’d cut it in with some footage of me sobbing in my bed that night, alone, to show that I wasn’t heartless.
It had affected Jendan as well as the audiences – he’d made love to me so long and so tenderly that night that I’d had sore muscles the next day…not that I was complaining.
And here we were, back at the live finale, ready to see who’d won the money.
I almost didn’t care. I’d come on the show to change my reputation, and to knock Kip down a peg. I’d done both, had come away a TV hero, and I’d gotten the guy. Of course, if I won the million dollars, I’d happily take it. I wasn’t stupid. I was a broke college girl – or I would be, once the semester started. I needed the money as much as the next person. The participation money had been a nice fifty grand, but most of it had gone to catch up my student loans. I’d take the prize money for sure.