The Reclamation (The Club Trilogy Book 2)

by Lauren Rowe

  But, holy fuck, I want to say those words now. And I want Sarah to say them back to me. What will it feel like to exchange those most sacred and bare words with someone? Well, not just with someone—with Sarah?

  I can’t wait.

  But hang on. Wait a minute. I have a thought that stops me dead in my tracks in my hallway. What if Sarah doesn’t say those words back to me? My stomach somersaults at the thought. What if . . .?

  No, I can’t think that way. We told each how we feel in Belize. Love is a serious mental disease, I said. And then I told her she drives me fucking crazy. You can’t get much clearer than that. And then she said it back to me. You drive me fucking crazy, too, she said. Loca. Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.

  And on top of all that I played her the Muse song, too. I’ve never played that Muse song for anyone before, let alone for the woman I love while making her come for the first time in her life. Oh man, that was epic. Madness.

  I’m rock hard right now.

  Yeah, we’ve definitely said it. Madness.

  And now we’ll take the next step. Together. We’ll say the actual words . . .

  But wait. What if she’s scared of the magic words? Or not ready? What if she’s not completely sure . . .?

  No, no, no, I can’t think that way. That’s just my demons talking. That’s my “deep-seated fear of abandonment wrought by childhood trauma” talking, as my therapist always explained it to me when my darkness started fucking with me and whispering in my ear. That’s the crazy-ass part of me I’ve got to constantly guard against, push down, snuff out. I know she loves me. And I love her. I know that as surely as I know my own name. I can’t let my mind run away from me.

  Or my body, for that matter. For the love of God, I’ve got to control myself—remember she’s exhausted and vulnerable and distressed right now. That she’s been through a trauma today. I have to be gentle and take things slow. I have to make sure she feels safe and loved—yes, loved, above all else. I want to make this memorable and beautiful for her. For both of us. I have to do this just right. I can’t turn into the Incredible Hulk on her right now. I have to treat her with kid gloves and make her feel safe and adored. Worshipped. To begin with, I’m going to pepper her face with soft kisses, the way she always does for me. And when I do, I’ll tell her, “Love is the joy of the good, the wonder of the wise, the amazement of the gods.”

  I open my bedroom door, trembling with excited anticipation.

  She’s not in the room but I hear the shower running in my bathroom. Her clothes are strewn across the floor, leading quite explicitly into my bathroom. My heart pounds in my chest, crashes in my ears. Damn, this woman turns me on. I rip my clothes off and hurl them across the room. I head toward the bathroom.

  I open my bathroom door.

  She’s in the shower, facing away from me, scrubbing herself with a washcloth as hot water cascades down her naked body. Her backside is pink and slick from the scalding water, her dark hair soaking wet and hanging down her back. Suds float like graceful snowflakes down the small of her back and over her beautiful, round ass. I stand for a moment, just watching her, beholding her breathtaking beauty. She’s woman-ness personified, the perfect form of woman from the ideal realm, delivered unto the physical world as a gift for the broken and imperfect masses in order to inspire hope and aspiration—well, and to turn me the fuck on.

  And she’s mine, all mine. Mine, mine, mine.

  She turns around and sees me. She smiles. “Talk about not taking a hint. Jeez. I’ve been wanting you inside me all day long, big boy.”

  I beam at her, but I don’t move. She’s so damned beautiful. I’m enjoying watching her.

  She tilts her head to the side, letting the water wash over her. She sweeps the washcloth over her breasts.

  I just keep smiling at her. She’s perfect. I want to remember this moment. I love her. And I’m going to tell her so.

  She puts the washcloth on the ledge and runs her bare hands over her hips and belly. She licks her lips. “Well? Are you gonna get in here or what?”

  I smile. “I’m just enjoying watching you for a minute, baby. I want to remember this moment.”

  “Aw, how sweet,” she says, but she’s clearly being sarcastic. “Don’t you know not to make a horny woman wait?”

  I bound into the shower. “Words to live by.” I take her slick body in my arms. “Say that again.’” I lean in to kiss her.

  She laughs that gravelly laugh of hers. “Horny,” she says, pressing her lips into mine.

  I run my hands over her smooth back, down her ass, over her hips.

  “I’ve been trying to get into your pants for the last hour, Jonas Faraday. Sometimes you really are just a big dummy, you know that?”

  I kiss her mouth softly, and then I kiss her entire face, the way she always does for me—but it’s not the same when water is pelting our faces. I want to whisper my devotion into her ear, but the shower stream is smacking me in the face.

  I want to make her feel safe and protected . . .

  She grabs my shaft and begins fondling me with enthusiasm. “Jonas, come on. I’ve been hot for you all day. Fuck me.”

  Fuck me? Wow, we’re really not on the same page here. I thought she was distraught and needed something gentle and tender and beautiful . . .

  “Come on,” she says again. Her hands are working their magic on me. I moan.

  She lifts her leg onto the shower ledge and guides me into her, then leaps up, into my arms, taking me into her. Immediately, she begins gyrating and sliding against my wet skin.

  What the hell? What happened to my damsel in distress?

  She throws her head back with abandon. “You feel so good,” she groans out, relieved. She’s on fire.

  “I don’t come ‘til you do,” I mutter.

  “Oh, not that again,” she moans. “Just don’t talk.”

  She wraps her legs around my back, gyrating, writhing, slithering around in my arms. “Oh, God,” she says. “Jonas.” She thrusts and jerks in my arms like an animal, kissing me voraciously.

  Fuck it. Fine.

  I pin her against the shower wall and give her more than she bargained for.

  She groans her approval.

  She feels so good, oh God, she sure as hell does, so, so, so good, but this isn’t what I had in mind. I pivot away from the wall, reach out behind her and turn off the water, still holding her entire body weight in my arms. She’s attacking me, devouring me, fucking me, but I walk us into the bedroom as she continues slamming her body up and down on top of me. Holy shit, how I’m managing to even think right now, let alone walk, I have no idea.

  I lay her down on the bed and pull out of her.

  “No,” she screams. “No, no, no! Get back in here!”

  Oh God, I love it when she’s bossy. When is she going to learn that I’m running this show? I head down between her legs to lick her sweet spot.

  “No, no, no,” she yells. Her eyes are wild. Her hair is soaking wet. Her olive skin is slick and wet and sexy as hell. “I’m in charge this time, Jonas—” But then my tongue finds her bull’s-eye and she moans. “Oh, yeah,” she breathes. “Just like that.” She arches her back into me. “Oh, Jonas.”

  I don’t know why she always fights me. When will she learn I know what’s best for her?

  I make love to her with my tongue and mouth, and she writhes against me.

  “Jonas . . .” She sighs loudly. But she’s still fighting me, battling to exert her will.

  I keep working her, sliding my tongue around and around and over and across—employing every little trick that unlocks her. I’ve learned my baby oh so well by now.

  “I want to lick you, Jonas,” she says, gyrating. “I want to bring you to your knees.” It always comes down to that, doesn’t it? She wants to conquer me as much as I want to conquer her.

  “No,” I mumble, and keep going. I’m too turned on to stop what I’m doing. Oh, how I love breaking my little bucking bronco.

&nb
sp; She squirms against me. “Yes,” she moans. She lets out a sound I’ve heard from her before. It means she’s getting close. And so am I. Oh yeah, I’m getting really turned on now. But she’s still battling me. Why, I don’t know. Doesn’t she know resisting me is futile?

  I keep at her, doing all the things she loves best. Oh God, I love the taste of her, the sounds she makes. There’s no way I’m letting her take charge of me right now, no way I’m stopping what I’m doing, no fucking way.

  She groans loudly. “I want to lick you, Jonas,” she groans out again.

  I ignore her. I don’t know why her bossy bullshit always turns me on so much, but it does. I’m in a frenzy right now, reveling in her. Nothing can stop me now.

  She moans again. “At the same time, baby,” she breathes.

  My eyes spring open. What?

  “At the same time,” she says again, shoving herself into me desperately.

  Oh, well, that’s something else entirely.

  I look up at her from between her legs. She’s lifts her head and smiles down at me, her eyelids at half-mast, her cheeks rosy. She’s got that bad girl look in her eyes I love so much.

  “At the same time,” she repeats, trembling. She reaches down and grabs a fistful of my hair. “I want to lick you at the same time,” she whispers, yanking roughly on my hair. “I’ve never done that. I wanna try it. Show me.” She tugs at my hair again, really hard.

  “Ow.”

  “Come on.”

  Here I thought I was going to make love to her, slowly, tenderly, whispering my devotion into her ear—and this angel of a woman wants to sixty-nine me? For the hundredth time since that first email from My Beautiful Intake Agent landed in my inbox, I’m in awe of her. She’s not like anybody else.

  I crawl over her, my chest heaving, my hard-on straining. She’s spread-eagle underneath me. It’s taking all my restraint not to plunge into her right now.

  She licks her lips and nods. “At the same time,” she says again, this time into my lips. “I wanna try it.”

  I nod vigorously and kiss her mouth.

  She laps at my tongue. “Show me how.” She guides me off her onto my back and grabs my shaft. She leans down like she’s going to suck me.

  “No, no, baby, not like that,” I coo softly. My heart is racing. I’m so turned on I can barely contain myself.

  She fondles me like she owns me. “How, then?” Her entire body has begun jerking and jolting, she’s so aroused.

  “You trust me?” My voice is hoarse.

  “Mmm hmm.” She continues touching me.

  I remove her hands from me, gently. “I’m too close,” I say. “You can’t... ”

  She smiles. She likes pushing me over the edge as much I like pushing her. We’re always at cross-purposes, she and I—too much alike, I suppose.

  “You trust me?” I choke out again.

  She nods.

  “Say it.”

  “Yes.” She shudders. “Yes, Jonas, completely. Come on.”

  “Lie this way.” I point at the bed, indicating I want her to lie face up across the width of the bed.

  She complies, writhing, trembling, ready to go off like a bottle rocket.

  I pull her shoulders to the very edge of the bed, until her head is hanging off. And then I stand astride her face, one leg on either side of her head, gazing over the full length of her naked body.

  I look straight down. Her face beams up at me from underneath my junk. I almost laugh out loud at the sight of her smiling underneath me. I can’t believe she just asked to do this with me. And now of all times, when the entire world is falling down around us and any other woman would want me to hold her and comfort her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

  “Baby, listen to me.” I take a deep breath. “This turns me on—like, it drives me fucking crazy. So let me get going on you first for a bit, ‘til you’re just about to come, okay? Don’t start in on me ‘til you’re almost there, like right on the edge, or else I’m never gonna make it. I can barely get through this, even without you sucking me off, it’s just so fucking hot for me.”

  She nods and smiles.

  “Promise?” I ask.

  She nods. “Yep.” But then she lifts her head and licks the entire length of me, from my balls all the way to my tip.

  My knees buckle and I shudder.

  “Okay, I’m ready now,” she says.

  I shake violently. “Don’t do that again.” She obviously doesn’t understand how close I am and how much strength this is going to require.

  She laughs again.

  “Only when you’re on the absolute edge,” I repeat, my voice much firmer than it probably needs to be—but she needs to understand I absolutely cannot do this if she’s going to tease me or start in on me too early. I’m going to need all my strength to do this, physical and otherwise. “Promise me.” My voice is stern.

  “Jeez,” she says. “Okay, I promise, Lord-God-Master.”

  I exhale and reach down, and then I cradle my arms around her back and pull her entire torso up and up and up, ‘til her belly is flush against my chest and her sweet pussy is right up against my mouth. She squeals and instinctively wraps her legs around my neck.

  Oh God, I already feel like I’m going to lose it, just holding her in this position. I swallow hard. Her sweet spot is half an inch from my face. Her legs are a vise around my head. This woman is going to be the death of me, I swear to God. I lean in and lick her gently, with hardly any pressure at all. Just a taste.

  She shrieks with glee. “This is so wild.” She laughs.

  But those are her last coherent words. In no time at all, I’m too turned on to be playful or gentle anymore. At this reverse angle—upside down—I can penetrate her, explore her, devour her like she’s never experienced before. Within seconds, she’s a hot mess, her body jerking against my face, her shrieks and screams and moans and howls a fucking symphony. And I’m losing my mind right along with her.

  I convulse with my pleasure, my chest and arm muscles straining. Sweat pours down my back. It’s taking every bit of my strength to keep holding her up like this, especially with her jerking around like a fish on a line. And I’m loving it. I don’t need any more stimulation than this, don’t need anything for myself, couldn’t possibly handle anything more... Oh God, oh God, she flutters into my mouth, sending my skin jolting like she’s zapped me with a Taser.

  She lets out an epic roar and takes my full length into her warm, wet mouth, nice and deep... Oh my God, the way she’s sucking on me is... And she tastes incredible... Fuck, oh fuck, she’s so fucking talented, even upside down.

  If there’s a heaven, I think we just found it.

  My knees buckle but I readjust.

  Holy shit.

  Oh God, she’s really good at this. So, so good. And she tastes so fucking good.

  She’s making crazy-ass sounds, and so am I.

  This is incredible. I can’t . . .

  Thank you, God, for letting me experience this kind of ecstasy at least once before I die.

  Her tongue does something particularly insightful, and my entire body jerks. I’m not sure if this is pleasure or pain. A swirl of light flashes behind my eyelids. My knees buckle. The sound emerging from me is the sound of a lunatic, but I can’t stop. I’m hanging on by the barest of threads. My muscles strain to hold her up. Her mouth is voracious, and so is mine.

  Her entire body jerks violently and she lets loose with a pained howl. Her body slams open and shut against my tongue like a window left unlatched in a storm.

  I yank myself out of her mouth feverishly, my knees buckling again.

  She shrieks.

  I want nothing more than to remain inside her warm mouth and see this thing through to its natural, mutual conclusion, but pulling out is an involuntary act, an instinctive act of self-preservation. She’s still brand new to climaxing, just a newborn colt, and I’m betting my dick she’s gonna clench her jaw like a motherfucker when she comes. I lo
ve her, God knows I do, and I’m willing to let her do just about anything to me—except reflexively chomp down on my cock like a great white shark on a sea lion.

  I throw her down on the bed, quickly pounce between her legs, and slam myself into her, letting her orgasm undulate around me. When my release comes, I’m pretty sure I lose consciousness for a split second. My chest heaves. Sweat pours down my back. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t... I can’t ... I can’t do a fucking thing but lie motionless on top of her and catch my breath. I’m not thinking anything coherent right now—other than maybe, “holy fuck.”

  After a minute, I roll onto my back next to her, shaking and gasping for air. I’m soaking wet. Damn, that was a work out. Fuck. My entire body burns with the exertion of what we just did.

  She rolls onto her side and props her head up on her elbow. Her cheeks are flushed. “So that’s sixty-nining, huh?” She laughs. “I thought it was... simpler. How the hell does anyone besides a Greek god like you ever accomplish that?”

  I swallow hard, still not completely functional. “That was the super-advanced way to do it,” I manage to say. “There are several other ways.” I breathe deeply. I’m still shaking. That took a lot out of me, in every way. “Much, much easier ways.”

  She laughs again. “Well, damn, boy, let’s try every which way.” She grins broadly. “We’ll just go right on down the list.”

  I laugh. She can always make me laugh like no one else can. “I’m in favor of that strategy.”

  She hoots. “Oh, Jonas. How the hell were you able to hold me up like that? Holy moly.” She squeezes my bicep. “You truly are man-ness, Jonas Faraday. My manly man-ness-y manly man.”