“You are making absolutely no sense, Jessa.” His hands were on my shoulders now, shaking me slightly as he spoke; I realized then that I was sobbing in between my words.
“I couldn’t –I wouldn’t—be responsible for ruining your dream!” Air. Breathe. Words. “I couldn’t be the one responsible for taking you away from the mountain. Years, Chance. It would have been years in Texas and even if you came up here during the season, would that have been enough to accomplish your dreams? No, it wouldn’t.” Full-blown rant-mode was engaged. “I knew how much snowboarding meant to you and I wouldn’t take that away. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.”
It was only when his hands cupped my cheeks that I realized I’d been shaking my head again.
His thumbs wiped my tears, my lip quivered like the string of a bow as everything I’d held tight inside for so long shot out of me like an arrow. And I prayed that it fucking hit his heart.
“So, I did the only thing I could think of to make sure you wouldn’t want to ever be with me, let alone move—and that was to kiss Nick. H-he didn’t know that’s what I was planning. All I knew was that the way I felt about you meant that there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell of convincing you that I wanted to break up; all I knew was that whatever was between us was one of those all-or-none things in life. And if it couldn’t be all, it had to be none.”
Staring up into his blue eyes I bit my lip so that it would stop shaking.
“I-I’m sorry. I couldn’t… We couldn’t… without you knowing.” Silence screamed, so I begged, “Say something, please.”
“So, you kissed Frost because you thought I would be giving up my dream for you and that was a mistake?”
I sucked in a shaky breath, trying not to sob again, and nodded.
“You thought I’d come to resent you for it?” His words became stiffer, as though they were becoming harder and harder to say. “Because you didn’t mean more to me than snowboarding; because you weren’t worth more to me than my dream.”
Tears for truth. Hearing those words from his mouth, knowing that he finally knew the truth about what happened… I finally realized the weight it had been on my chest over all of these years.
I nodded and whispered, “I’m sorry, Chance.” My eyes fell and I went to pull back again. My job was done. He knew what happened. Whatever happened now, at least there was no longer this weight sitting on my heart.
His fingers gripped my chin, tipping my head up to his. He wasn’t done with me yet. I gulped as his face descended to mine.
“You know what, J-bird? I’m sorry, too.” I shivered at the chill in his voice. “Because you are so fucking wrong.” My breath caught in my throat, mentally preparing for literally anything to come out of his mouth next.
“I wasn’t giving up on my dream by moving to Texas; I was following it.” The world stopped. “You were my dream, Jessa, and I’m not ready to fucking wake up yet.”
Words that should have been tender were uttered with a fierce anger at their painful truth; they touched my heart and ravaged it at the same time. I shuddered at what was coming next, but I whatever it was, I needed it.
Whether this was a dream or a nightmare, the Chance in front of me crushed his mouth to mine and I didn’t care what world I was living in any longer; he was my reality.
Time didn’t stand still for this. No, this kiss turned back the clock. I loved him just as much—if not more—than the day that I left him.
Buttons popped and showered the floor as he ripped my practical cotton pajamas right down the front. The fabric slipped smoothly off my body, leaving me completely naked—tattoos and all.
“Tell me what you want, J-bird.” Those sapphires flickered dangerously at me—dark and angry, but with an intensity that had my sex dripping juices down my thigh.
“A-are you going to fuck me now?” I ask instead, suddenly frantic to know what he is going to do.
“Is that what you want?” Anger and satisfaction shone brightly in his face. “Are you hungry for my cock?” He laughs. “You’re always fucking starving for me. I know your pussy is salivating for me—just like it did the other day. So fucking hungry…”
I moaned at his filthy assumptions, feeling like I was being steamrolled by my desire. Chance’s words made me wild; they made me hot; they mixed with the anger and betrayal and regret that seemed to be at the very essence of our relationship right now and set it all ablaze.
“P-please, Chance,” I begged. “I want you to fuck me. You’re right. My pussy is starving for you.”
I was the perfect picture of desperation. Naked. Dripping. And begging him for his cock. But I was only this for him; I’d only ever been this for him.
His restraint snapped and he was flush up against me again. The franticness of my breathing was now obvious as my tits slammed against his chest. I breathed deeply. He smelled like my candle—eucalyptus, evergreen, and mountain—and I moaned; Chance felt so right against me. There may be so many things wrong with me… with us… with this situation, but all the wrong words melted like sugar in my mouth.
My hips rolled against his, pushing my sex against the ridge of his cock that jutted out in his sweats. I slid easily against the fabric because I was so drenched.
He blew a breath against my neck, suffering just as much as me from the contact, before I was lifted, my legs barely making it around his waist before I felt the cool hardwood against my back.
We were on the floor.
My legs fell open as he lay between them, sliding off to one side so his hand could cover my breast. I gasped as he pinched my nipple. “I swear I’m going to fuck your tits one of these days and cover them with my cum—that’s how much I love them.” I whimpered as he kneaded my flesh, pulling repeatedly on my nipple. “Almost as much,” he rasped as his hand slid down over my stomach, “as I love your pussy.”
I cried out at the first touch of his finger between my folds, rewarded as he let a single, solitary finger slip inside of me. In and out. Slowly. Painfully slowly. He did it on purpose. He wanted to make it hurt. But I knew the pain would only make it feel so good.
“Please, Chance…” I knew my body was convulsing around him, begging for release.
“I’ve imagined this so many times, J-bird,” he whispered in my ear, his calmness in the midst of my storm really beginning to frustrate me, “being back inside of you—stretching this tight hole of yours so fucking wide.” He chuckled as though he was the only one who had an idea of what kind of stretching my hole was in for.
“Chance!” I gasped, my hips jerking against his hand. My pelvic bone brushed over his hardness.
His angry growl erupted through space as he slipped his finger out of me. My legs slipped to the side as he jerked up onto his knees before rising to stand, stormy sapphires glinting down at my flushed naked body.
My tits hardened even more and I could feel the blood pumping through the very tips of my nipples.
“Tell me that you want me, J-bird,” he rasped. I hoped that my drool—from either ends of my body—wasn’t that obvious; I had a feeling that was wishful thinking. “Tell me you want me and I promise that every inch of your body knows that it fucking belongs to me as I fill it with my cum.”
God, he was so dirty. Dirtier than I remembered. But maybe I was too.
I groaned. Or gasped. Something incoherent definitely left my mouth. Dammit. Maybe I should be grossed out, the words were filthy—but they set me on fire and my sex wept underneath his eyes.
I stared at the man who had once been the boy that I’d loved. Impossibly gorgeous, half-naked. My eyes trailed over his chest that shimmered with the fine sheen of sweat—a gloss over every hard line and muscle. His gaze dropped lower and so did mine, finding the edge of his sweats that rode low on his hips, revealing that V-cut… I drew blood from my lip as my gaze followed just where that V went; the ominous tent in the front of his pants where his erection hung long and heavy against the thin gray fabric; they splotched
almost black where my juices had soaked into them.
And then he grabbed himself and began stroking his arousal through his sweats.
“Tell. Me. Now.”
God. Oh, God. I moaned while biting my lower lip. Wasn’t it obvious?
My sex squeezed and I felt my desire leak down along the crevice of my ass. My pussy wanted him inside of me like a fat kid wants cake.
“I want you, Chance,” I panted. “I never stopped.”
“Fucking Christ.” He swore—but I was the one who lost my breath when his sweats slipped to the floor.
He stood naked and I let out a groan from the deepest part of my chest.
I should have known this. I should have been prepared. I’d had the thing down my throat and in my ass. But both memories now blurred in front of this.
Nothing about this was blurry. The long, thick shaft thrusting out of his body. I licked my swollen lips watching the way the blunt, purple tip twitched for the desire that seeped from my core.
Fitting that inside of me was like the Christmas miracle of Santa being able to fit his fat ass down a chimney.
He dropped to his knees and the therapist in me winced at the minor damage he probably just caused to his kneecaps. Reaching for his discarded sweats, he pulled out a condom and rolled it down his length.
They made condoms to fit something so large? Was all I could think as my mouth dried out.
My body stilled as he covered it with his own. Skin to skin. Our chests moved in sync. He was crushing me and the pressure of it mimicked the pressure building inside of my sex. His cock throbbed, tucked between us against my stomach. So close.
Chance rocked his hips against me at the thought, pressing his heavy arousal into my tummy. I swallowed a groan as he began to tease my nipple, pinching the soft peak until I was afraid I was going to come without him.
My body was being torn apart at the seams. The release of the past, the release of the truth, all that was left was the release that begged to be had from every cell in my body.
His lips trailed along my jawline over to my ear, every touch sparking though my body like a live-wire that had been split open.
“Please, Chance…” I cried. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I was going crazy. No, I was already crazy—and there was no going back.
He reared up onto his hands above me. His face was as hard as granite. I glimpsed every taut muscle of his body, shimmering with sweat, straining towards what was about to happen. Looked like I wasn’t the only one losing control. And then I stopped breathing altogether.
He fisted his cock, rubbing it up and down my slit before tucking it at my entrance.
“Let me fucking feed you.” His growl turned into a long grunt as he forced his way inside.
My back arched off the floor. My shoulders dug into the unforgiving wood and my body immediately tightened against the invasion of his cock.
“Fuck…” The curse rips out of him long and painful as my nails score down his back.
It hurt. It more than hurt. My sex had been as wet as a category five hurricane and still it was so fucking painful. I swear, he wasn’t just trying to squeeze into my sex, he was trying to shove his cock into every last cell of my body the way that the stinging pain seemed to explode through every nucleus. I didn’t remember it hurting like this before.
I didn’t remember him being this large before.
“Christ, you’re fucking tighter than when I took your virginity, J-bird.” I bit my lip to stop another whimper of discomfort from seeping out, watching the strain of pleasure against pain cross over his face. It wasn’t hurting him, but it was hurting me—and that was why his jaw clenched and unclenched with the pain of restraint.
It felt like the first time all over again.
It some ways, it kind of was. But, in this way I was totally not expecting it.
I gasped as he pushed in slightly farther and my body pulled back in reflex to the intrusion.
“Fuck. I can’t do this. Let’s—“
Before he could finish, I wound my legs around his waist and locked my ankles together. His cock slipped in deeper because of my movement, the angle giving him better access. It stung for a second before the pain dulled to a pulsing burn. I didn’t care about the pain. I needed him.
“I’m ok, Chance. Please.” I tightened my legs around him and my fingers dug deeper into his shoulders. I’m holding on to a rock at the edge of the volcano that’s about erupt.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He growls as his cock throbbed inside of me.
“You aren’t hurting me,” I breathed the words out. “I’m just not used to…” I hissed as he pushed in again.
“Such a huge dick?” He ground out with a tight smile. I rolled my eyes and let out a small laugh—the subtle movement made him wince. “I’m trying to go slow here, J-bird, but fuck, you are strangling me.”
Relaxing my legs slightly, I gave him room to move. I also gave him room to touch. His fingers found my burning clit, stroking over it. I was right—I was utterly drenched; he was just that large. My eyes drifted shut under the onslaught of the steady pressure filling me as his fingers slipped easily back and forth over my sex.
I was wet, so wet down there. He flexed his hips again, sliding much farther in—almost all the way. My eyes sprang open, feeling him just brush against the spot inside of me that feeds all of my desire.
“I need you,” I whispered. In more ways than this. But definitely this way.
I arched again and he slid home with a strangled curse. Gasping, I watched the tendons in his neck and shoulders and arm all tense in perfect unison. His face shadowed, a second of struggle gracing his chiseled, controlled features.
And then we began to move.
It had been like our first time all over again—and now, this part was what I remembered.
He rocked into me—in and out—in long, demanding strokes. I felt him knocking against my womb and brushing over my G-spot. My nails dug into his shoulder and his hand disappeared from between us. Our hips slammed together violently—like a demolition derby.
Who would be destroyed first?
“Oh God. Chance…” I chanted over and over again, his name set to the melody of my moans.
He shouldn’t have been pushing all the way inside of me—I knew because that last inch was painful; with every thrust he hit something inside of me that should never be reached. But I craved it because the pain and pleasure were woven together like sexual DNA—and it was only the combination that made me come alive.
I watched sweat bead on his chest as his face drew tight, his eyes locking on my breasts as they bounced with every jab up into my stomach. My entire body burned and it fueled him on—my moans, my pleasure, and my gush of desire that coated his cock, they all made him pump faster, harder into me.
My hips angled up to meet his, leaving no space between us. I gasped in air as my toes began to tingle and I knew I was going to come. The tingling moved higher—making me lose feeling in every other part of my body except where we were joined. I opened my mouth, maybe to moan, maybe to scream, maybe to warn him, but nothing came out. And then his eyes shut and I knew he didn’t need to know because he was in the exact same place. He shouted as I climaxed around him.
My whole body spasmed as that helix of pain and pleasure made my core come alive at the expense of the rest of my body. A few more erratic thrusts, the rotation of his hips, and Chance threw his head back with a strangled groan as his orgasm erupted through him. Watching him brought new waves of pleasure through my sex and I moaned as he continued to push into me, wringing every last drop from his cock.
For minutes, our bodies pulsed in unison—his heart, his cock, my sex, my heart—a sexual synchronicity that brought order to the chaos.
This moment hadn’t changed; the moment where I never wanted him to leave me, where I wanted him to stay inside of me. The wave of longing for this was a familiar suffocation on my senses. And just like before, I knew it wasn’t po
ssible. Then, because there was the chance one or multiple adults would find us; now, because we were the adults.
With the same expression that I’d seen cross his face when trying to lift something that put undue strain on his muscles, Chance slowly slipped out of me. The loss of him felt like someone had just blown a cannonball-sized hole through my body because that’s how big of a chunk it felt like was missing.
I shouldn’t have felt embarrassed, lying there with my legs spread like an open invitation, but there was a small part of me that did. It had been eight years. Pushing myself up onto jellied legs, I reached for some paper towels.
It was the silence that prompted my uncharacteristic cleanliness. Wetting the towel, I knelt down and began to scrub the floor where our desire had left its marks, wiping away what was really a reminder—a reminder that another piece of me now belonged to him.
Because, let’s face it, we all knew my heart had been the first piece to go. Traitor.
This hadn’t been the fucking plan.
Well, fucking her had been. The part where I no longer cared about what happened with Frost—even before she told me the truth—was not though.
I never wanted to hear about that night—not from anyone, especially not from her. And now that I did, I had eight fucking years of feelings to rewrite. Anger, sadness, regret, love—all those feelings still belonged, but differently. It was complex and I wasn’t going to deal with it tonight.
Tonight was simple. I wanted her. I needed her. I needed to be inside of her and take back what was mine. Yeah, knowing that she hadn’t felt a damn thing for Frost had liberated some of the anger inside of me but even after eight years of feeling nothing but that anger at what she’d done, it was nothing compared to the need I had for her.
And after what just happened, that need wasn’t going away any time soon. It was like watching your favorite movie for the second time. The first time, there are certain things that make you fall in love with it and you think that the second time will be no different. Until you watch it again and you find so many more nuances, things that you missed, things that you’d overlooked, things that you thought you saw but look completely different with the perspective of familiarity. All of these things make how you feel about it deeper and more complex.
Enjoy the Ride (Winter Games Book 3) Page 26
