He marks me. I watch him do it through hooded eyes, my stomach clenching and twisting with delicious pressure as he sinks his teeth into my breast and sucks hard. He releases it with a wet pop, satisfaction flaring bright in his eyes when he sees his mark.
"I like seein' me on you, Miranda."
"M-me too."
He gives me my favorite lazy grin and then dips his head to kiss my belly. My stomach clenches so hard I'm sure he feels it beneath his lips. He hums, sliding his lips down my belly.
"You got my mouth waterin' already. Gotta get another taste of you, watch you come on my tongue this time." He dips his tongue into my belly button and then blows across my stomach.
"Jason! W-what are y-you d-doing to me?" I sob.
"Loving you, pretty baby," he grits out, chuckling.
His teeth rake down my lower belly and my breath seizes in my throat. His tongue touches my hipbone. My heart stutters. I'm not going to survive this. I'm going to die of pleasure before he ever gets inside me.
"God," he groans, nuzzling his nose against the top of my mound. "You smell so fuckin' good. I'm going to wear that smell like a badge of honor, Miranda. Keep you all over me so I'm never without."
"Jason!"
He nudges my legs apart, fitting his big body between them. I have to open them wide to make room for his broad shoulders. My cheeks burn, but I'm too far gone to care if I should be embarrassed or not. I want this so bad. So, so bad.
"Please, please," I beg, shameless. It physically hurts not to come.
"Oh, pretty, pretty baby," he breathes, staring at my pussy like it's some sacred object. He slides his hands under my ass, squeezes my cheeks, and then lifts me toward his mouth. His eyes roll back in his head as he smells me again.
Mine do the same when he touches my slit with the tip of his tongue, parting my folds. The orgasm that's been building to volcanic levels erupts through me. A piercing scream of relief tears from my lips so loud it hurts. Pleasure crashes over me, slamming into me like waves battering the shoreline. My body seizes up, every muscle locking up tight.
It's the most extraordinary thing I've ever felt…so powerful it's terrifying, yet so immensely good that I want him to make me feel this way over and over again. I sob his name, trying to tell him how good it feels, but I can't seem to do more than cry his name, words lost to me.
"God, yeah, pretty baby. Come for me. Scream for me."
I do, wailing his name until my lungs hurt. Finally, finally the storm ebbs, easing off. I suck air into my lungs in greedy gulps, my heart racing so fast I'm surprised he doesn't hear it knocking against my ribcage like a battering ram. Boom. Boom.
"Did that feel good?" he asks when I finally float back to earth.
"Mm," I moan, peeling my eyes open as far as I can.
He's still between my legs, staring at me like he's a starving wolf again and I'm dinner. His eyes are so dark with desire they're a stormy, midnight blue. He's breathing hard, his fingertips digging into my ass as he fights himself for control. A little of that battle touches every part of him. His eyes, his flaring nostrils, and curled upper lip. His tense shoulders and heavy breaths.
"More, Jason," I say, demanding more of everything. The pleasure. His control. Us. I want it all, until we're both wrecked and ruined, both of us claimed and sated. "I want more."
He places his lips against my inner thigh. "That's real good, baby. I'm going to give you more than you can stand." He sinks his teeth into my thigh, marking me again, and then he moves back to my center.
My hips fly upward, a startled cry leaving my lips at the first touch of his tongue to my clit. I'm so sensitive, that touch is a tangled knot of pleasure/pain, rippling out to consume all of me.
"Shh," he croons. "You can take it."
I'm not so sure of that, but he proves me wrong. He dips his head, swiping his tongue through my folds again, gathering my arousal on his tongue. The sound he makes then is so full of approval, of bone deep satisfaction, that my temperature spikes all over again.
I half expect him to lose control and attack me like he can't stop himself, but he doesn't. He takes his time, eating me like he wants to savor every drop I spill across his lips. He laps at me, swirling his tongue in lazy circles around my clit before he dips lower, jiggling it against my entrance and then thrusting it inside me.
He makes love to me with his mouth, using every part of it to kiss me, to touch me, to fuck me. I grip onto the bed, crying out his name until my voice cracks. He doesn't let up. Not even when I start chanting, "Oh, please, oh, please, oh, please." and writhing beneath him.
He's implacable, determined to eat his fill.
This orgasm is just as ferocious as the first, just as intense. It flings me skyward, and then leaves me floating somewhere between life and death, where the only thing that exists is spirals of pleasure that stretch into forever.
I come back to myself more slowly this time. I feel his fingertips against my cheekbones, his breath ruffling my hair. He croons my name, sheltering me from the rest of the world with his body bracketed around mine.
My eyes flutter open to meet his.
"There you are," he says, smiling at me. And somehow, seeing that smile sends desire sparking through me again. Those sparks catch, igniting inside me like a million little fires. "Thought you passed out on me."
"Almost," I whisper, reaching up to touch his lips. "But I want you in me."
He eyes me for a moment, something unexpected drifting through his expression. "Think you can sit up?"
"Mmhmm." I hold his gaze, silently waiting for him to tell me what he's thinking. I know it's something he's thinking hard about. I see it brewing behind his eyes, worry and need battling. I'm just not sure what it means.
"I'm a little afraid I'm goin' to hurt you, pretty baby," he admits a moment later, huffing out a chagrined breath. His gaze flits back and forth across my face. "You're so little and I'm all worked up. If I fuck you right now, I'm going to hurt you. And I can't stand the thought of hurtin' you, Miranda. Just the thought is…painful."
How did I ever think this man might break me? He wouldn't. I think he'd tear his own heart out of his chest before he did anything to hurt me or break my heart. As badly as he wants me, and I know he does because I can feel his bare erection dripping against my belly, he's still thinking only of me.
If I didn't already love him, that right there would have tipped me right over the edge. This man would walk through fire for me, crawl through hell if that's what it took.
I sit up beneath him, placing my hands on his shoulders to move him back. He's so much bigger than me that there's no way I could move him without his help, but he doesn't fight me at all. He lets me do what I want, curiosity in his gaze. I push against him until he's on his back and I'm the one on my knees above him.
His cock juts from a light thatch of curls, standing proudly. It's as beautiful as the rest of him, and just as intimidating. Joey always complains that men like to lie about how big they are. He says they measure from the taint and call it six inches. Jason doesn't suffer that same affliction. I seriously underestimated his size. He's long and thicker than my wrist. The broad head of his cock is purple and slick with precum, the veins in his shaft pronounced. His balls are drawn up tight.