Take My DareBy: J. Kenner
Instead, the bastard slides his hand free, then moves it slowly up my body until he is cupping my breast again. He pinches my nipple, taking me to that point where pain slips gloriously into pleasure. I close my eyes, letting myself enjoy this new assault on my senses. But with Jackson there is always more, and he shifts position so that his steel-hard erection that had been nestled against my ass now slips between my legs, his shaft stroking me from ass to clit as he thrusts again and again.
“Legs together,” he demands. “Arch up.”
I comply eagerly, and he thrusts harder, one hand kneading my breast as the other moves up from my hip to hold my neck, his thumb and forefinger tight against my jaw. It’s an incredibly intimate position, one of absolute control, and I surrender completely, losing myself in the trust I have in this man and the pleasure with which he is battering my body.
“Tell me you like this,” he demands, as his fingers tighten on my nipple, as his cock pounds roughly between my legs, stroking and teasing. Never quite taking me far enough, but leaving me in a perpetual state of aroused anticipation.
“Tell me you need it.”
“Yes, yes. You know I do.”
He bends his mouth to my ear, then tugs my lobe with his teeth. “Tell me why.”
As he speaks, the hand on my breast snakes down, and he thrusts his fingers inside me even as his cock continues to stroke me intimately. Immediately, my body clenches around him, wanting this, yes. But wanting more. So damn much more.
“Tell me,” he repeats, thrusting his fingers further inside me, the deep command in his voice reverberating through me, taking me all the way to the precipice and leaving me teetering on the edge.
“Because I need to surrender.” My voice is little more than breath. “To give myself to you completely.”
“That’s right, baby. But why?”
“Because—” I cut myself off, the words so hard to form. “Because I’m scared,” I finally blurt out. “Afraid that when they unlock the jail door they’ll also unlock all the memories. All the pain. That the nightmares are going to start all over again.”
“And you’re afraid I won’t be there when you need me?”
“No! Oh, Jackson, no. I just—I just want you now. Now while everything is still okay, as a defense against what might be coming.”
He brushes a kiss over the top of my head, and that soft connection soothes me in a different way. “No matter what comes, we’ll face it together.”
“I know,” I say, because if nothing else, I am always certain that Jackson is with me.
“Good girl,” he says, and think I hear a hint of a tease in his voice. “And what do you want as your reward?”
“Please,” I beg. “I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me.”
“Such demands,” he says, and this time I’m sure he’s teasing. “And here I thought I was the one in charge.”
I’m about to respond that I have no shame, no will. Nothing left in me except desire and that he can have me anyway he wants, if only he will have me. But he doesn’t give me the chance. It doesn’t matter, anyway. He already knows it. Hell, he’s known it from the first moment we met.
Now, he pulls back, then turns me around to face him, the motion so quick it leaves me breathless. I’m still dizzy with lust when he grips my waist, then lifts me so that my ass is on the polished top edge of our glass patio barrier.
I swallow, suddenly aware that I’m naked and balanced precariously above a flagstone patio, and that if I fall it really won’t be pretty.
Except Jackson would never let me fall, and so I force myself to relax in his embrace. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, and I hear the understanding in his voice—the knowledge that I surrendered to him even before he asked. That where Jackson is concerned, he can—quite literally—take me to the edge.
He holds me firmly, one arm around my waist and the other at my shoulder. His body is between my legs, and when he tells me to spread my legs and lean back, I hesitate only a second before complying. And as I do, he steps closer, his cock at my core, teasing me but not yet entering. “Legs around me, baby,” he says, and the moment I comply, he enters me, thrusting hard as I tighten my legs, both to keep me anchored and because I want to feel each thrust as tight and as deep as possible.