Did I regret my decision? Not even a little.
Mainly because she’d made what would’ve otherwise been a torturous day way more than bearable. Fuck, besides dancing with her hot body pressed up against mine, just watching her bust my brother’s balls without apology was worth the risk. She could turn on the charm when speaking to my parents, or even hold her own with Brad’s ditzy date.
The most pressing reason had to do with the way I constantly craved her.
As I shut the door to our room, I practically sighed, knowing I finally had her to myself for the rest of the night and into tomorrow morning. After Trixie cock-blocked me, and I was forced to witness Brad touching her, it took every ounce of my resolve to sit through the rest of that damn reception. The last hour felt longer than the entire day.
But the wait was over. Tonight we would be fucking without a condom. To say that reality had opened my floodgates in terms of wanting her was an understatement. It was more than the sex. Amy Delton had become a drug to me, and I purposely avoided asking myself why.
“Thank you for coming with me, Jersey.”
“Did you have a good time?” she asked while kicking off her shoes.
Taking the opportunity, I kicked mine off as well. “I did. More than I thought I would.” Her gaze landed on my hands as I unbuckled my belt. “Did you?”
“Most of the time,” she quipped slyly.
“Was a highlight when I touched your pussy?” With one smooth tug, I freed the leather strap from beneath the fabric loops constraining it. She didn’t respond, distracted perhaps by my fingers popping the button on my khakis and then lowering the zipper. “It was for me.”
“I wouldn’t call it a highlight, since nothing came of it,” she surprisingly admitted before her teeth scored her full bottom lip as I closed the distance between us.
“This is true. I guess I can rectify that now.”
“How exactly?”
Based on the toothless smile, I knew she knew the answer. Still, I supplied it anyway. “By having you sit on my face.” I then gripped the back of my shirt’s collar, tugged it over my head, and tossed it onto a nearby chair. Shoving my pants off next, when I kicked them aside, her gaze dropped to the outline of my hard-on confined by gray knit briefs.
With our eyes tethered, I removed my watch and placed it on the dresser while Amy lifted the hem of her dress up and over her head, tossing it as I had.
She was braless and now stood in nothing but a lace thong the same color blue as her dress and eyes. She was a vision, a siren responsible for the blood rushing into my already engorged cock.
“You’re hot as fuck, Jersey,” I admitted.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Navarro.” After she tucked her fingers into her panties and dragged them off, I followed suit and then charged toward her.
Our lips and bodies collided, and we made out while walking toward the bed before landing in the center with a bounce. I pulled away first and barked, “Straddle my head, Jersey. I need to taste you.”
She did as I asked but didn’t face the direction that I had expected. “I need to taste you as well,” she retorted, and with her pussy hovering above my face, she bent forward to take me into her mouth.
“Oh fuck,” I said, bucking from the contact. I was already worked up to the point where I could explode with little effort. Trying to delay the inevitable, I focused on lapping her smooth, warm skin with a soft tongue. The act forced her to moan deeply, which caused me to feel the vibration around my cock.
Thus began a frenzied tit-for-tat session of sixty-nine. At times, she’d go still because of the way I flicked her clit. Other times, I’d go still because of the way she sucked me without mercy. Her orgasm taking hold stopped her momentarily while I continued to suck hard on her clit and finger her deeply. It took mere seconds before she cried out, her thighs quivering around my head.
Once she calmed, she picked up where she left off, pulling me back into her mouth. Her efforts increased, and Amy didn’t stop until she’d sucked me dry.
Exhausted and drained, I threw my head back against the pillow. “Shit. That was fucking amazing, Jersey.”
She turned, sporting a satisfied smile, and collapsed beside me. “I haven’t done that in a long time.”
I hated the visual that popped into my mind of her with another man… hated questions of who it was with or how I compared.
What did I care? I’d had plenty of encounters before she came along.
But the thing was… I did care.
Too damn much.
We lay side by side, each lost in our own thoughts. For me, those thoughts created a satisfied tingly sensation all over my body.
True that I may not have done sixty-nine in a long time. It wasn’t something I was fond of. Selfishly, I’d rather lie back and appreciate the pleasure of a man’s mouth without having to work on him at the same time.
But with Nate… hell… that was one of the hottest sexual experiences in my life. The way he’d pause his motions to accept mine, only to grip my waist in a desperate hold when he determinedly resumed. The way he’d moan against me, creating a sexy vibration that further enhanced his oral skills.
Why would any of that surprise me when every time with him topped my list? He continued to stack them up, and when I thought that it couldn’t get any hotter, he’d prove me wrong. Whether against his door, on my island, or during a shower, he continuously raised the bar.
Though it needed to be said that we had yet to have sex in a bed. Maybe then it would bring things down a notch? As quickly as I thought it, I internally laughed at the notion that Mr. Sex on Legs could be brought down a notch.
It also needed to be said—our relationship was most definitely driven by sex. I liked how he made me feel. Still, more times than not, I had to remind myself to take one day at a time and keep a level head while enjoying the ride.
When I twisted my head his way to see Nate staring at the ceiling with an unmistakable frown, my buzz instantly died.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yep.” I propped my head on a bent arm, and he twisted to follow suit. “Why?”
“I don’t know. You seem lost in thought.” His eyes narrowed on mine, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he shifted, snaking his around my body to bring me closer.
“In my office we discussed going without a condom. You’re still good with that?”
That wasn’t what I’d expected him to say, and part of me suspected that he’d just deflected, as a lawyer often did.
“I am.”
“Good.”
He began tracing a teasing path from my chin to my breast. After circling my pebbled nipple, he flattened his palm over it. “You are stunning, Jersey.” But before I could respond, he dipped his head to pull my other nipple into his mouth. Once that happened, any doubt I had vanished. Every part of my body went boneless; every inch of my brain went numb.
With a firm hand, he pressed on my shoulder until I lay flat on my back. That was when he truly worked his magic. His mouth never left my skin, seductively kissing and nipping it while driving me insane in the process. One hand molded over the breast he laved; the other moved down my torso and between my legs.
Exploring me with a feather-light touch made it no less torturous. Through low, guttural moans and desperate rolls of my hips, I conveyed what it was I sought. Thankfully, his teasing became more insistent, deliberate, and purposeful. The need to savor every sensation battled with the need to let go. That was, until I felt his three fingers plunge deep inside me, all while his thumb continued to skim back and forth over my clit.