Part 19 (1/2)

Now, maybe Donovan was doing what her mama says she always did. Pulling an O'Hara (as in Scarlett), which basically meant putting off today for a chance at tomorrow. But she didn't care. Nope. Donovan had other things on her mind.

She moved so that she was on top of a Jack, smiling wickedly at the pleasure that erupted all over her. She slid her leg so that her soft folds were pressed against his hard thigh and slowly she gyrated her hips.

Nice. She pushed into him harder.

Very nice.

She was already wet. So wet. And licking her lips, breaths falling in small pants at the sensation of his hard skin against her moist center, she continued to move.

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were already swelling, the nipples taut and pebbled, as she slowly kissed his chest and ran her hands up his shoulders. The man was built like a G.o.d, and she smiled when she felt his c.o.c.k start to thicken against her.

Moving onto her knees Donovan stared down at Jack. She bent forward and her breath caught when her sensitive nipples sc.r.a.ped across his chest. She brushed thick hair off of his forehead and kissed him softly on the mouth before heading lower.

The ache between her own legs intensified as she made her way down his abdomen, and she whimpered-like a baby wanting more. His c.o.c.k wasn't fully erect yet-she glanced up half expecting to find his dark eyes on her-but he was still asleep.

”Not for long,” she whispered.

Donovan tossed her long tangled hair over her shoulders and slid her hand along the base of his c.o.c.k. She stroked it, slowly, carefully, before teasing the head with her tongue. When he jerked and swore, she looked up at him with a smile.

”Good morning, Jack.”

He opened his legs giving her all access, and she laughed. ”Seems to be,” he replied, a lazy grin on his face.

Donovan didn't wait. She bent down and took him into her mouth, her tongue sliding underneath the head. She put pressure there, with her fingers and her tongue and loved the way he s.h.i.+fted beneath her. The play of muscles in his thighs. The masculine scent. The velvety softness. The hard and straining c.o.c.k.

”Jesus Christ, Donnie. Keep that up and this will be over before it begins.”

But his smile was still there and with his sleep heavy eyes, rumpled hair, he was so d.a.m.n s.e.xy it made her ache. This easy place was the one she remembered. The one that had haunted her. It was as if the last five years had never happened, and they were just themselves.

”Do you like this?” she asked, flicking her tongue along his shaft.

”No.”

”You're lying.”

”I am.”

”Do you want me to continue?”

”No.”

She laughed, low and throaty. ”You're lying.”

Jack's eyebrow rose. ”I might be.”

Donovan took him back into her mouth and suckled him, first gently and then with firm strokes. Her tongue and her fingers were everywhere. Sucking. Stroking. Licking. She could tell he was close-felt it in her mouth and her hands-and when he yanked on her head she let him slide out of her mouth with a grin.

”You're a f.u.c.king jezebel,” he said hoa.r.s.ely.

”I know.”

Donovan crawled up his body and with her elbows leaning on either side of his head, claimed his mouth and kissed him with every ounce of pa.s.sion that she had. She loved everything about this man. Every. Single. Thing.

She always had, and it was d.a.m.n time she claimed him again. She wanted there to be no doubt at all. She wanted Jack to know that she was all in.

Donovan broke off their kiss and stared down at him. Chest heaving, her head fell back when he coaxed one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s into his mouth.

”Don't stop,” she managed to say. His hands roved her body, kneading her a.s.s and pulling her closer and closer. He blew across her damp nipple. Tugged on the end then claimed the other one. Every pull and tug shot straight through Donovan.

It was hot and intense, and she was so close to the edge that she knew she would fall.

Donovan slowly eased up onto her knees so that she straddled Jack. Her hands ran down his chest and then up her own thighs until they paused, just below her tattoo.

There was something to be said about the power of s.e.xuality. Right now, with Jack looking at her as if he wanted to eat every single inch of her body, well, that was empowering. That was real.

They were real.

Slowly she opened her legs.

He swore.

She smiled, her fingers dipping into her slick folds.

”You're killing me,” he said, voice rough like sandpaper.

”Am I?” she teased.

”Donnie,” he growled.

She slid over him and he swore again as her heat enveloped his c.o.c.k. She let him settle inside. He filled her. Every inch of him hard and straining.

Donovan reached for him. She cupped his face and kissed him urgently as she began to ride him. Slow and steady. His hands were on her hips and their eyes connected as she sat back and let their bodies take over.

All she heard was her fast beating heart. The squeak of the bedsprings as their tempo increased. All she saw was Jack. His broad shoulders. Straining biceps. The way his eyes darkened. They smoldered like black coal and-her heart skipped a beat-and they shone with love.

She knew that look. She'd dreamt of that look.

Donovan's heart swelled and, G.o.ddammit, were those tears poking the corner of her eyes again? How the h.e.l.l could she be crying when she felt to incredibly fulfilled?

”I love you Jack,” she said fiercely. ”So much.”

She felt the pull inside, that coil unfurling hot and sweet and sharp as they raced toward o.r.g.a.s.m. Jack strained beneath her, sweat glistening on his forehead, his curls damp once more.

They were one. Connected in a way meant only for the two of them.

When she came, she came hard, her muscles contracting tightly, her body awash in fire and pleasure. Jack came seconds later, and as she continued to ride him, to take whatever he had left, she collapsed against his chest and bit her lip because it was that beautiful.