by Piper Rayne
“I told you, I’m in control now.” He steps out of his slacks and kicks all our clothing out of our way. He pushes my legs to the sides, opening me to him, and he runs his finger along the underside of my thong, teasing my clit and making me grow even wetter.
I lean back on my elbows and his other hand comes up to slide my panties down my legs, tossing them over his head. Then his hands are on my inner thighs, pressing them down on the counter. I’m completely bared to him.
My eyes flutter closed in preparation to feel his breath or his tongue on me. A moan practically rests in my throat, waiting to be unleashed. But I feel nothing and when I open my eyes, he’s watching me. His eyes are the flint and I’m the spark to ignite him.
He opens the drawer to his left and pulls out a condom. While his gaze stays on me, he tears it open with his teeth and spits out the wrapper.
Now, I’ve been in this position a few times—more than a few if I’m being honest—but no one has ever done that maneuver like he should be in a porno. Never as flawless as Jasper. No one has been able to keep me wet and panting while I’m waiting for his cock to take me.
He sets the package on the counter and his hands slide under my thighs to pull me forward. I’m perched on the edge and he directs my legs to his sides. I tighten them behind his thighs and he grabs the base of his cock with his hand, gliding the head up and down my wetness. A muffled groan echoes in the small space when the tip slides over my swollen clit and I scoot closer, needing him inside of me.
“You want it?” he asks and my breathing staggers, watching the movement of his dick, and for a second I think to hell with precautions. I just want him to slide it in me.
“Yes,” I answer in a breathy voice that betrays how lost I am in him.
A slow smirk tips up the corner of his lips. Reaching over, he places the condom on and less than a second later, he’s buried inside of me. He growls and his fingers dig so far into my hips, I know there’ll be marks in the morning.
There’s nothing slow about Jasper. He thrusts in and out of me like he’s finishing instead of starting. Normally, a little primer would be necessary, but I feel like we’ve been doing the slow grind all night and it’s time to unleash the animals we’ve been keeping at bay.
The desperation with which Jasper wants me right now is a bigger turn-on than his cut abs, his intelligence or his perfect dick. Nothing turns me on more than when I know a guy wants me just as bad as I want him.
Jasper pumps into me over and over again and the need to get closer to him builds, so I inch up, wrapping my arms round his neck and using my legs to draw him in deeper.
His hands direct the movement of my hips, forcefully pulling them toward him and then pushing them away. Before I have a chance to react, he hoists me up, walks a few steps and slams me down on something soft. He continues to ram into me the entire time and then draws my legs up so my ankles are at either side of my face.
Thank God for yoga.
“I wish I had a camera,” he says, his gaze focused on our joined bodies.
“Next time,” I remark and his sexy as sin smile appears and I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m kidding.
He thrusts into me a few more times and then his cock leaves me. I long for it immediately, but before I can complain he’s lying in the bed beside me and directing me to get on top of him.
I don’t miss a beat, rolling over on top of him and lowering down on his length.
He feels so much bigger in this position and I’m sure my eyes roll back into my head out of sheer bliss. Our movements are frantic as I slide up and down on him and he crashes his lips to mine. My fingernails dig into his shoulders as I grind my pelvis back and forth, my clit throbbing with the friction. Our tongues mix and mingle, our teeth knocking, our lips swollen. When he takes his teeth to my bottom lip, the explosion I was holding at bay floods out of me and I cry out. Every part of my body feels electrified, as if I’ve just been hit with a bolt of lightning. When I’m done riding out my orgasm I let my trembling body fall onto his chest.
Never, ever in my sexual conquests have I become a shaking mess after an orgasm. I’m always ready to give as good as I receive, but for some reason I feel weak-limbed and completely spent.
Jasper refuses to let me stop though. His lips continue to devour mine and as exhausted as I am, the tingling between my legs ignites again.
With his hands on my hips, he brings them up and down on his hard length until he stills inside of me. His head falls back to the pillow, the muscles in his neck strain and his mouth falls open as he groans through his orgasm.
I study his eyes as they flutter from open to closed and I swear I could watch him come every second of every day. He’s even more beautiful with just-fucked hair, red lips and sweat glistening on his hard body.
A full minute later, he opens his eyes and I collapse on his chest. His fingers graze my bare skin, up and down my back.
“Shh…sleep now,” he whispers and as much as I want to repeat what we just did, my eyelids close.
13
I wake up and the slow sway underneath me reminds me that I’m on Jasper’s boat. I’m not even sure of the last time I slept over at a guy’s place unless I passed out after because I was drunk.
Last night, I never stirred and we didn’t even have sex again. What the hell? There’s a good chance he thinks I’m a stage-five clinger now and I’ve completely blown my chance with a fine specimen like Jasper Banks. One and done. I could kick myself.
He never even ate me out. Fuck.
I roll over, sitting up on the edge of the bed, narrowing my eyes while I glance around the small room. I’d like to investigate further since I didn’t really get the tour last night. Unless demonstrating what the counter and the bed feel like under my ass counts. Unfortunately though, my bladder is screaming at me so I stand in search of a bathroom.
Bingo. The small door to my right holds my salvation. Thank goodness, because in about thirty seconds I’d be peeing in his sink or hanging my ass overboard.
I do my business and notice there’s no toiletries. No shaving cream, not even a toothbrush or toothpaste. I cover my mouth, testing my breath. Oh, God, I need toothpaste. I scour under the cabinet, but other than some Band-Aids, sunblock and a brush, nothing. What the hell?
Giving up, I open the door and promptly scream.
“Jasper!” My hand covers my frantically beating heart as he stands there in his slacks and shirt from last night. He’s a wrinkled mess and I smile inside at the fact that he didn’t think to lay his clothes out neatly before we went at it.
“Coffee?” he asks, holding out a Starbucks cup.
I smile. “Thank you.” I take it from his hands and see ‘Bella’ scribbled on the outside. “And you are?” I ask with a smile.
He circles his cup in his hand and I laugh at ‘Edward’ written on his.
Twilight.
“I love that you play my game,” I say, inching up my toes to give him a quick, closed-mouth kiss on his lips.
He steps closer, prolonging the kiss a second. “What are you doing today?” he asks me, walking me backward until my ass falls to the bed.
“Um…” I rack my brain. I don’t have any plans and the tattoo shop is closed today. “Shouldn’t you ask who I’m doing?” I ask and he chuckles.
“Good answer.” He sets his coffee down and leaves the small room, returning a second later with a Target bag. “I got you some sailing clothes.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Are there special clothes for sailing?”
“Well, there are, but they don’t sell them at Target. I got you some shorts and a shirt. Along with a toothbrush and toothpaste.” He passes me the bag and I set it in my lap.
I run a hand through my hair, knowing I could really use a shower.
“I also bought you a bathing suit,” he continues. “There’s a spot we can anchor and swim.” His eyes light up so I root through the bag and pull out the skimpiest bikini. Seriously, almost all string.
Now I’m all for working what your mama gave you, but I’m not auditioning to work the pole right now.
He holds up his hands in a placating gesture when I hold it up in front of me. “In my defense, it was either that or a one-piece and I just couldn’t picture you in a mom bathing suit.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, me and Mom probably shouldn’t go in the same sentence.” I glance away from the small amount of fabric in my hand and something flashes across Jasper’s expression, but it’s too fast for me to figure out what it’s about. “At this point you might as well tie me up naked. It might cover more of me.” I toss the bikini on the bed and he laughs. “If I ever have to buy you clothes, I’m buying you a Speedo.” I eye him and he chuckles again. “A thong Speedo.”
Still smiling, he moves into the bathroom with his toothbrush and toothpaste. “Do they make such a thing?” he asks.
“I’ll have one shipped over from Europe.” I sit on the bed, waiting for him to finish before I intrude.
“I look forward to it.” He comes out a couple minutes later, grabbing my hand for me to get up and when I do he wraps his arms around my middle. “Now, go get dressed. I can’t wait to have you alone on the water.” He kisses my nose and pats my ass to get moving.
He leaves the room and I stare after him, wondering what the hell I’m doing spending the day with a man after I slept with him the night before.
Where are you, Lennon Hart? Are you still in there somewhere?
Pretty soon I’ll be giggling, batting my eyelashes and pretending to like things I hate just to impress him.
I sigh and pick up the Target bag and lock myself in the bathroom to get changed. Somehow it just feels safer at the moment.
An hour later, we’re out on the water. Jasper is behind the wheel and I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m helping him as much as I can. Of course every task he gives me somehow means I need to bend over. I don’t mind though. I enjoy the way I catch him watching me. Like he’s the fisherman and I’m the prized catch.
Okay, maybe that’s a bad analogy because I suppose after the fisherman hooks the fish he ends up gutting it or mounting its dead body on the wall, but you catch my drift.
I’m wearing the shorts and too-tight t-shirt he bought over my almost non-existent bikini. I sit back and grab one of the coconut water bottles he put in a cooler. I’m not sure what time he got up, but he was a busy beaver because we have drinks, snacks, wine, and he’s making us lunch whenever we anchor.
“So, why a sailboat?” I ask, propping my feet up on the ledge, making myself comfortable.
He glances over to me. “When I went to Harvard my best buddy’s family owned one. Much larger than this, but I don’t know… I loved it. His dad showed me how to sail. Just took a liking to it, I guess.”
Good answer. I pop a piece of cheese in my mouth from the plate he put out. I’ve never spent time with a guy who catered to me like this.
“What about you?” he asks.
I look up, thinking I must’ve missed something while daydreaming. “What?”
“Why tattooing?” The sun shines on his own inked skin. Wherever he went, they did an awesome job. Not as good as me, but not so bad that I’d suggest a redo.
“I love to draw. I went to Berkeley.”
“Good school,” he comments.
“It’s no Harvard, but I’m proud. Anyway, I quickly realized I might be a good artist, but I’d need something more to make a living, so I changed my art major to business. Tattooing lets me mix the two, so I had a guy who showed me the ropes. Eventually, he wanted to move to San Diego, so I took over his shop.”
He nods. “So you own the shop?”
“I manage it and we’re on a buy program, but I’m not sure that’s what I want to do with my life.”
He leaves the wheel for a minute to join me, reaches down, grabbing a slice of cheese and a cracker, then returns to his spot.
“Your dream isn’t tattooing?” he asks and my stomach clenches.
Do I tell him? No, because he’ll really think I’m a loon. “It’s fine for now, but the hours are exhausting. Especially on the weekend. When I’m working, I can be there until all hours of the morning. The only good thing is my younger employees usually want those hours. It tends to be more entertaining.” I smile, thinking about all the drunken guys I’ve hooked up with who have come in there, and then cringe, thinking Jasper wouldn’t much like to hear that. Of course, he has his own drawer full of condoms at the ready, so who am I to say?
“I can imagine you meet some pretty interesting people.” He smiles as though he truly does believe that and there’s zero judgment.
“Yeah,” I say, looking out to the horizon. “It’s beautiful out here. Peaceful.” I raise my hand, letting the wind blow through my fingers.
“I think that’s why it’s so addicting. Come here.”
I stand up to join him and he puts me between him and the wheel. “I didn’t like you so far away.” He kisses my shoulder and I fall back into his strong chest. “We’ll be docking soon,” he says. “Take the wheel.” He holds both my hands and places them on the wheel.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” I tell him, but he shoos me off.
“I’ll instruct you,” he says before his fingers slide down the front of me. He unbuttons my shorts and shimmies them down my hips until they fall at my feet.
I suck in a breath.
“You have no idea how hard I was when I bought that bikini. Just from imagining you in it.” His hands slide around me again and he cups my mound.
I let one hand drop from the wheel in anticipation of touching him, but he has other ideas.
“Hands on the wheel,” he scolds me and I return my hand to where it was, all of my knuckles white as I grip the wheel.
“I think all I have to do is this.” He pulls the string on one side of my bottoms and they flop open. “Ah,” he says, his hand moving to the other side. “This is the view I really want to see.” He undoes the tie on the other side and the bottoms fall to the wooden floor of the boat.
Then his hands are gone, his chest no longer warming my back. I glance over my shoulder to find him sitting on the bench behind me, admiring me while he rubs his hard-on over his shorts.
“Now this, this is a beautiful view,” he says, and then glances up to see my gaze on him. “Tsk, tsk. Hands on the wheel, beautiful.” His finger circles around in the air and I do as I’m told.
His hands splay my ass and he squeezes. “I love your ass,” he says. “The jeans you were wearing that time I first saw you in Starbucks… I beat off to that vision all night.”
I feel the wetness pooling between my legs.
“Why don’t we do this when we anchor so I can touch you?” I ask softly.
He chuckles, his finger moving through my wetness and back. “Because I like control.” He smacks my ass with one hand and I jump.
“I’ve figured that out,” I say dryly and he chuckles again.
“You can act like you don’t like it, but I know you do.” He eases my thighs further apart. “Your body doesn’t lie.”
I say nothing because I’m not going to agree, and I can’t deny that this alpha domineering shit turns me on more than a teenage boy looking at his first Playboy.
“So wet.” He slides his finger back and forth over my slit until he mercifully plunges one finger into me. I rise on my tiptoes, surprised and elated.
He stands up while another finger massages my clit. “Tell me, Lennon, would you prefer my tongue or my fingers?” he whispers and sucks my earlobe into his mouth.
His other hand rubs my ass, and I should be expecting it but I startle anyway.
Slap.
I yelp and grip the wheel tighter, the boat weaving slightly.
Jasper takes one hand and steadies the wheel until we’re going straight again. “Now, now, don’t crash my boat.” He nibbles on my neck. “Answer the question, beautiful. Fingers or tongue?”
He’s asking me whether
I want cake or ice cream. They’re equally delicious and I want them both. Together. At the same time. I want the ice cream to melt a little on the cake until I can’t tell where one ends and one begins.
“Both.” I inhale a deep breath and I feel his head shaking no in the crook of my neck.
“One or the other,” he says, his teeth lightly scraping along my skin.
“Please,” I whisper.
Smack.
Now my right ass cheek is red.
“Tongue,” I pant.
His lips move up my neck and his finger leaves my clit, much to my dismay. A second later, his mouth replaces his finger and I arch my back—the way every man loves when they’re doing you doggy style—giving him as much access as I can.
He swipes his tongue the entire length of my opening and my hands fall from the wheel.
“Hands on the wheel, beautiful.”
And I do as he says because I never want him to stop. He plants his hands firmly on my ass and spreads me apart while his thumbs trace lazy circles on the inside of my thighs as he devours my pussy.
My hands ache from clutching the wheel in an iron grip.
“I’m so hard,” he mumbles.
I let my head drop back and stare up at the blue sky, dotted with wisps of clouds as my orgasm teeters at the edge, ready to dive into bliss.
I pant and squirm, my hips rocking, needing the friction on my clit that he’s expertly denying me. His thumbs stop and he grips my thighs tighter, the tip of his tongue moving faster.
“Jasper,” I sigh, trying to squeeze my thighs shut from the throbbing, but he holds them open and continues to worship me, never rushing the job.
Small inaudible moans escape him and just when I’m about ready to beg, he pushes two fingers into me and I fall forward over the steering wheel.
What starts as slow and rhythmic quickly turns fast and deep and I whizz past the teetering stage and dive right into an earth-shattering orgasm.
