He wished he’d taken the time to strip, that he had more room to maneuver than the edge of the plush sofa, but he decided this wouldn’t be the last time he loved her tonight.
He just had to keep her mouth busy laying kisses on him, keep his own filled with her soft, round tits—so neither of them could take verbal slices of flesh.
Her neck scrunched against the back of the couch, her legs high in the air, Sin held onto Jake’s solid body for support, grunting softly as he hammered her.
After the day she’d had, not talking about what they’d done the night before, not wanting to rehash all the whys they shouldn’t be together, she’d come home edgy, angry…and so horny she’d stood in the shower, fingering her pussy when the doorbell rang.
She’d known instantly who it had to be and hadn’t bothered drying off—slinging her bathrobe around her body and practically charging to the door.
Thank God, he didn’t know that.
Jake’s face grew reddened, his expression urgent. “Baby, this is damn awkward.”
“Tell me about it. We should move it to the bedroom,” she said, clutching him tighter.
“I don’t want to stop.”
“Do, and I’ll have to kill you.”
A smile curved his tight lips. “Think we’ll ever get this right?”
She huffed a sharp breath. “What’s so wrong with it? I’m almost there.”
His mouth stretched into a smug grin. “You look a little mashed.”
“I am, and I’m looki
ng at the reason. Stop talking so much and fuck me like you mean it, will you?”
His snort was so masculine her pussy tightened.
“Always trying to be in charge,” he gritted out, giving her a salvo of sharp, fast stabs.
“Baby, you know better. Not here. Never.”
Jake slammed harder against her center, shoving the air from her lungs, bouncing her on the soft cushions beneath her. When her release began to wash over her, Sin widened her legs and arched her back, digging her head into the back of the sofa.
Jake followed instantly, grunting hard, delivering a stinging round of furious thrusts until he had to slow to catch his breath. Still, his arms tugged her knees toward him as he rocked into her, the motion lulling yet possessive.
At last, all movement stopped. She opened her eyes to find him staring down at where their bodies joined. He gave a slow stroke, pulled out and did it again, as though fascinated with the sight.
Sin couldn’t get enough of watching his expression—taut, almost feral, wholly masculine. “Looks like everything works, huh?” she joked softly.
“Perfect fit.” His head came up, and he captured her with a searing glance. “Your pussy’s a beautiful thing when it’s eating up my dick.”
Her lips curved. “Oooh, Chappa! Never knew you were such a romantic.”
The wildness leached away, leaving his expression solemn. “You don’t see what I see. You’re soft there, so wet it’s like sliding through—”
“Say ‘apple pie’ and I’ll throttle you,” she blurted, wanting—no, needing—to keep the conversation light.
His smile looked a little forced. “How about cherry Jell-O? All pink and quivery.”
Grateful he’d let her set the tone, she admitted softly, “That’s aftershocks, baby.”
“That good?”
“Always.”