Bad Girl by Night (40 page)

His arms closed around her, too—tight—and they stood that way a long time, silent, a soft autumn breeze wafting over them through Jake’s front screen door. She became aware of the gentle strums of a guitar, recognizing it as the somber beginning of Jeff Buckley’s “Hallelujah.”

And at some point, Carly realized they were clutching at each other, holding on as if for dear life—her fingertips dug desperately into his back, shoulders, through his sweatshirt, and his hold on her possessed the same urgency, or maybe it was finality; she felt his warm breath on her neck, his fist twisted snug into the hair at her nape. Her eyes grew wet—but she tried her best not to cry. Not to cry for what they’d both been though in their youth, nor for the fact that he was leaving her, really leaving her.

And then she suffered a too-familiar pang—the wild wanting rushed through her, slow and consuming. Somewhere along the way, this had transformed into an entirely different kind of hug—and she bit her lip to try to keep from trembling when she felt Jake’s cock hardening against her hip.

Her breasts ached and her cunt pulsed, empty and needful; her scalp began to tingle as desire rippled excruciatingly down her spine. Her chest went tight, as if she were starting to suffocate, and she let out a labored breath upon realizing she’d been holding it, trying not to feel all this. Then she heard Jake breathing heavy, too, felt the stark hunger rising between them like a wild, living thing, bubbling to the surface, like a volcano getting ready to erupt.

A short, hot sigh left him and then his face was against her neck, the rough stubble on his jaw scraping over the tender skin—and then his mouth, pressing there, but going agonizingly motionless, as if attempting to stop it.

The tiny sob of anguish left her unplanned—but it made Jake pull back, forced their eyes to meet. His were glassy, wet like hers, and filled with all the lust and desperation and need that surely shone in her own.

And she heard herself whisper, “Please Jake. Just take me. It’s killing me.”

“It’s killing me, too,” he told her, sounding breathless, weak. “But I’ve been trying so fucking hard not to let this happen. That’s why I didn’t come tell you myself that I was leaving. Why I didn’t come tell you about what happened today. I didn’t want to make my leaving any harder for either one of us.”

A quivery sound left her. “
This
is hard. Being with you and not . . . Oh God, just please stop trying so hard to do the right thing, just for right now. How can it be the right thing when it’s making us so miserable?”

His mouth came down on hers hard, almost violently—and yet her yearning was so great that it was the best thing she’d ever felt, like a sweet, soothing balm that spread, stretched all through her, to her breasts, her belly, the small of her back, her inner thighs. More rough, inelegant kisses grew from somewhere deep, someplace hidden and primal.

And then his fingers were fumbling at the zipper on her hoodie, and her body felt electrified with the need to hurry now as she clawed at his sweatshirt, trying to yank it upward. He stopped, tugged it off over his head, as she struggled out of her own sweatshirt and the top underneath. She reached for the button on his jeans, desperate now for his hard-on, desperate to have that empty, vacant part of her filled, as he frantically lowered her zipper, too, then jerked downward on the denim at her hips.

A low moan left him at the sight of her panties—they were simple, just white with lavender butterflies, to match the plain lavender bra she wore, but Jake always seemed turned on by
whatever
she wore under her clothes.

She stumbled trying to step free of her jeans, and Jake caught her in his arms, and they tumbled onto his soft leather couch just a few feet from the door. He pushed his boxer briefs off, and Carly sighed, feeling it in her breasts when she caught sight of his long, rigid cock, so big and stiff, just for her.

Instinct made her reach for it, but he was quicker—they sat facing each other, and he pulled her legs out from under her, then tugged her panties down and off. He roughly parted her thighs, then let out a low groan as his gaze dropped to where she was pink and wet and ready.

He pressed his hands to her shoulders, pushing her to lie down—but she got her knees back beneath her in time to push back. She didn’t
want
to lie down right now; at this moment she didn’t feel the least bit submissive. Her body was hungry—she needed to fuck as well as
be
fucked. And so it began—that familiar struggle they both knew so well.

She wasn’t as strong as him, of course, but when she curled her hand snugly around his erection, she watched as the pleasure seemed to expand through his whole body, his eyes falling shut, giving her the chance she needed to rise up on her knees, then move to straddle his hips. With that powerful shaft still in her grip, it was easy to position herself over the engorged head and know heaven was just a heartbeat away.

She met his gaze, only inches from hers, and he grasped her hips with both hands and pressed down, impaling her sharply on his unyieldingly firm erection. They both let out small cries of bliss at finally having their bodies interlocked again. Oh God, at last! It seemed like so long since she’d felt him inside her this way.

Up until now, everything had happened fast, frantic, a little clumsy—but now they went still, both breathing heavily, peering into each other’s eyes. They still didn’t say a word, but Jake’s jaw hung slack as his gaze drifted downward to where their flesh joined. He then lowered a hungry kiss to her right breast, through her bra, as he reached to lower the straps. When her tits tumbled free, he growled, dropped an anchoring arm around her ass, and hauled her up a little higher on him, bringing their torsos closer. He bent toward one taut nipple and she helped by lifting her breast toward him until his mouth closed over the tip.

That was when the purest pleasure came, spreading through Carly’s body like hot liquid delight. She moved on him as he suckled her, latching firmly to the sensitive, aching peak, and her clit grazed the flesh just above the base of his cock as she fell into smooth, rhythmic undulations. Now it was
her
hand that fisted in
his
hair. She held him tightly in place, needed him to keep sucking her, hard, hard. She could almost feel her nipple getting longer and harder under the rough suction he applied.

She feared his need for control would make him try to pull back, but he didn’t—despite his urge to be in charge, Jake was always generous about giving pleasure, and he clearly understood what she needed now and was going to deliver it.

And then—oh God—he delivered something she
hadn’t
known she needed; shifting so that both hands cupped her bottom, he briskly slid one finger into her ass. A thready sob echoed from her throat as that one little additional penetration multiplied every sensation.

As always when that tiny fissure came into play, perspiration began to seep from every pore and sensation pulsed wildly outward to the tips of her fingers and toes. As intensely as she’d been feeling his mouth on her breast just seconds ago, she barely noticed now when he released it—she only realized that they were looking into each other’s eyes again, that his burned a more vibrant blue than usual in the shady light of late day, and that they held her captive now.

She continued moving on him, the pleasure growing infinitely each second his finger fucked her ass—and then his other hand was pressing low on her abdomen, right above where his cock entered her. And . . . oh God—yes. It was her G-spot again. And though she’d been whimpering the whole time he’d been in her anus as well as her pussy, now the sounds leaving her echoed lower, louder, deeper. An almost unbearable pleasure permeated her, rocked her. “Oh Lord,” she murmured. “Fuck me. Fuck me.”

Her eyes began to fall shut, her head to drop back, but Jake said, “No—look at me.”

And so she did. As the gut-deep orgasm burst through her like a tornado, she met his blue gaze. As it tore the screams from her throat, she still met those blue, blue eyes. When it jerked her body uncontrollably, again and again, whipping her head back, she returned her gaze to his afterward, moaning wildly even when the turbulent climax began to wane, leaving her drained.

They went still, her forehead pressing against his. Her breath remained labored as she came back to earth. His finger left her ass; the hand on her belly rose to cup her jaw.

And when their eyes met again, she said, “Now you can take me. Do whatever you want to me. Fuck me senseless.” Not only for him, but because now that she’d reached that glorious release, she
wanted
to be at his mercy. She’d truly learned to love it both ways—both when the control was hers, and when she gave it up to him totally.

Jake was lost. Lost to sensation. To the warmth of her sweet cunt. He was lost in all of her.

And he was lost in himself, too. In what had happened today. In the power it had given him, combining with that old pain, and in the old needs that had resulted. In seeing her again and in the utter loss of control he’d known would come with that. He’d given up now, surrendered himself to what his body craved. And it craved something
hard
with her now.

He shouldn’t give in so much—he shouldn’t let his rough urges define this moment—but that was what she did to him; something about her made him into the beast he’d kept relatively well hidden and locked up until she’d come along. And if this was the last time he’d be inside her, he had to take what she was offering.
Fuck me senseless. Do whatever you want to me.

So he wordlessly lifted her off him, turned her around to face away from him on the couch. “Arch your ass,” he whispered. And then, finding himself face-to-face with her pussy, so pink and open for him, he buried his face there.

Hot, strangled-sounding moans left her as he licked, bit, slurped, sucked—not at her clit, but at her parted pink folds. He wanted her come in his mouth, on his face. He wanted to feel completely immersed in her, like he was drowning in her.

And when finally his cock wouldn’t wait any longer, he rose up on his knees behind her, used his hand to position it at that perfect pink opening, and rammed it deep. She cried out as the thick pleasure blasted through him, her pussy bathing his dick in slick heat. “Fuck,” he whispered, breathless. Then, gripping her round ass with both hands, fingertips digging in, he fucked her with every ounce of lust and energy inside him, thrusting hard and deep and wild, over and over. He needed them both to feel it in a way that would last a lifetime.

They both cried out—and still hotter, dirtier little sobs left her when he began spanking her as he plunged into her,
deep, deep, deep
.

He watched the soft sway of her back, the impassioned jerks of her head; his eyes dropped to the crease of her ass below him, to her puckered asshole, slightly swollen now from excitement.

Working on pure impulse and heat, he stroked one thumb over the fissure, recognizing the slight change it brought in her moans—and damn, he loved how crazy ass-play drove her. Then he began to massage her sexy little butt, thumbs and forefingers working at the skin near that tiny hole, using them to prod and tease the muscles around it, add to the stimulation there. Still fucking her below, he stroked his thumb outward around her anus, a fire growing low in his belly when it began to open slightly.

When he went still in her cunt, she whimpered, “Wh-what are you doing?”

He only said, “Shhh,” his gaze focused squarely on that minuscule gap—aiming carefully from up above, he let a large drop of saliva drip from his mouth and watched as it hit dead-on, then slipped neatly into her ass. His stomach contracted. He wanted to be in there, too.

Almost weak with his growing lust now, he spit again. This time the saliva landed in the crease, just above her asshole, and he used his thumb to rub it in around the puckering entryway, moistening the skin there.

Her pussy was so wet on him, as always—his cock felt soaked in her juices—that it would be enough to lubricate her. And he didn’t want to wait another second.

So he extracted his erection from her deep, hugging cunt and positioned it at that even tighter little tunnel. She didn’t say a word now, only panted hotly in front of him—she clearly knew what was coming and wanted it, too.

And as always when he fucked her this way, when he saw his thick shaft preparing for entry, it looked impossible—but then he managed to slowly wedge the head inside. And then the length followed, gradual but smooth as it glided deep. Both of them emitted low, shaky groans.

“Tell me you love having me in your perfect little ass, baby,” he rasped.

She sounded barely able to speak, but managed, “God, yes. I love it.”

He bit his lip, tried not to explode. It was hard enough in her snug pussy sometimes, but in her ass—shit, he knew he wouldn’t last long, not after them being apart for nearly two weeks, not after the full-on, consuming lust that had brought them this far. And he hated the idea of coming in a way, because he knew it would be the last time he’d be with her like this—but his body could only take so much excitement.

Clutching her ass, he began to deliver short but potent thrusts. His eyes fell shut as her ass squeezed him unbearably tight. “Jesus,” he muttered. In front of him, she was whimpering, moaning—and he slipped one hand around her hip, pressed his fingers over the distended nub of her clit, and simply held it there as he fucked her. She cried out and almost immediately fell into the moans and spasms of orgasm, because that was how it was with her ass—it took her there fast. And as always, she was so fucking beautiful when she came, sobbing her pleasure, letting it all go, holding nothing back from him.

So fucking beautiful that just watching her climax and feeling the hot contractions of her ass around his dick pushed him over the edge, too, and with little warning, he was shooting his come into her, moaning, “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” with each hot burst that left him.