Sweet Obsession: Windy City Kink, Book 1 (19 page)

BOOK: Sweet Obsession: Windy City Kink, Book 1
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Now she did turn in his arms, her breasts aching, craving the feel of him against her. He slid his hands into her hair and held her head for his kiss, a warm, dark velvet kiss that tasted of yearning.

She lifted her hands to hold his wrists, kissing him back, helpless to resist. Her heart slammed against her ribs and more heat pooled low inside her. His tongue slid into her mouth, and she met it with her own, feeling like she was going down, drowning in sensation but at the same time going up in flames. She held onto his arms as if her life depended on it, her entire body a quivering mass of nerves.

His tongue slid in and out of her mouth, and then he lifted his lips from hers. He gently sucked on her bottom lip, then her top lip, then rubbed his lips over hers and rubbed the side of his nose again her nose. She sucked in small bursts of air, her entire body pulsing. She moaned his name.

“Sasha,” he whispered back. His fingers tightened briefly on her skull, then he threaded his hands through her hair, the tugs sending tingles all down her spine.

“Did you mean what you said?” she asked. He tugged on her hair so her head fell back and his mouth opened on her throat.

“What did I say?” His hot tongue stroked her skin.

“That you never forgot me.”

He sucked gently on her skin and then moved away. His hands cupped her face, gently and he stared into her eyes. “Yes.”

“I don’t understand.”

His head tilted and the corners of his mouth tightened just a little. “Okay, here it is,” he said, voice rough. “I never forgot you. After that night…I didn’t want to leave you, Sasha.” He paused and his throat worked. “When I left, things weren’t over between us. I always felt that. I always knew I would see you again. I didn’t know when, or how. It was just a feeling I always had, deep down inside me, that you were always there.”

She struggled to comprehend what he’d just said, searching his face. Confusion and questions swirled inside her. “But you left. You moved away. You didn’t even tell me.”

His face hardened. For a moment he didn’t speak. “I had to,” he finally said.

“You told me…you followed me that night…”

“Yeah.” He held her gaze steadily. “I’m not a stalker, Sasha. But I did do some checking when I was coming back to Chicago. I wanted to know…” He swallowed. “If you were married. Or in a relationship. Where you lived. Where you worked. If you were living in the ’burbs with some guy, I wouldn’t have…hell. I can’t say I never would have contacted you. Because it’s true, when I started looking into designers, you were the one I wanted. But…I wouldn’t have…done…this…”

And he bent his head and kissed her again, his mouth moving hungry, hotly over hers.

She melted at his words, at his touch. She felt so wanted, so desired, and that was an aphrodisiac of epic impact, making heat swell up inside her so much she felt she might burst out of her skin. She wanted him too, so much, and God, knowing he felt the same made flames burst inside her.

Holy holy hell.

“Jack,” she gasped.

His tongue stroked across her bottom lip and he pulled back, panting. “Yeah. Right here. God, Sasha, the taste of you. You make me so fucking hot.”

She loved that she made him that hot. Knowing that made
her
even hotter.

He kissed her cheek, her ear, his stubble grazing her skin. His hands went to her ass, slid lower, and worked the tight skirt up her thighs. The slide of fabric up her thighs and hips was seductive and sensual.

Then his fingers found bare skin, skating over the curve of her butt, her hips, only the ribbon of her thong and a tiny triangle of sheer fabric between her pussy and his hand. “Christ,” he moaned. He slid his hands to cup her buttocks and gave a little squeeze. “I love your ass. So round and firm.” He squeezed again then let his fingers brush down the crevice between her cheeks.

She gasped and went on her toes. His fingers caressed the crease where buttocks met thigh, then lower to the backs of her thighs. Her body twitched hard at the ticklish sensation of his fingers on her flesh there.

Air teased her bare skin as he lifted her dress. She felt vulnerable and daring and sexy. And achy and hot. She smiled and let her head fall back as his hands roamed up her body, over the lace dress, caressing her hips, her waist, her ribcage. Then her breasts. He cupped them with both hands and gently squeezed. She moaned as his mouth again found her throat, arched her back so her breasts pushed into his palms.

“Fuck yeah,” he murmured against her skin. He licked her there. Then his hands slipped up to her shoulders and pushed the wide straps of her dress aside. They didn’t go very far though.

“Zipper’s at the back,” she panted. He grunted and his fingers found the little tab at her back. Her dress loosened and he pushed it down her arms until it fell to a puddle of black lace and beige silk at her feet.

She blinked heavy-lidded eyes when he stepped back from her, taking another step, and another. His gaze travelled up and down, hot and admiring, as she stood there wearing nothing but tiny panties and high heels.

“Damn, that’s sexy,” he breathed. “Turn around.”

With heat flooding her cheeks and washing down her chest, she turned, looking at him over her shoulder.

“Fuck.”

She bit her lip.

“Your ass is so sweet,” he muttered. “I can’t wait to put my hands on it.”

With another glance over her shoulder she saw him yank his tie loose and wrench open the top two buttons of his shirt. He stared at her with burning intensity as he shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it to the chair where her coat lay.

“That’s better,” he said gruffly. “I’m not one to wear a suit and tie a lot.”

“But you’re a big high-powered businessman now.”

“True.” He moved closer and did indeed lay his palms on her butt cheeks. He gently squeezed. “And sometimes I have to do the suit thing.”

“It’s a very nice suit,” she choked out.

He shrugged and bent to nuzzle her neck. “Thanks.”

“I’m guessing Joseph Dean.” She tipped her head to the side to allow his mouth access to her skin and shivered.

“Wow. You know your tailoring.”

“My dad always got his suits there. Probably still does.”

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I do
not
want to talk about your dad right now.”

“Fine.” Once more she turned in his arms. “Let’s not talk.” And she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him.

His hands held her hips, pulling her flush against his erection again, and now she wanted to feel his skin against hers. His hands stroked up and down her back, leaving waves of heat and sparks where he touched.

She slipped her hands between them to find the tiny buttons on his shirt and began working them open. His jaw tightened as he looked down at her fingers and she sensed his leashed impatience. When she caught his eye and smiled, his lips twitched too. “In a hurry, tech boy wonder?”

His lips curved into an all out sexy smile that stole her breath. For a moment, her head went light and spinny. Was she really here with Jack—
Jack
—doing this? She had a few seconds that felt surreal, like this couldn’t really be happening.

But his warm hands brushed hers aside so he could tug his shirt out from his pants and push it down over his arms.

Oh God. She skated her palms over his shoulders, hard bone and muscle beneath warm satiny skin, then down his chest. The roughness of his chest hair tickled her palms, and she curled her fingers and lightly scraped her nails over his nipples. He hissed and his eyes narrowed. When she touched his abs, all hard and ridged, he shuddered.

Clearly his Aikido kept him in great shape, with more muscle than he’d had as a teenager, his shoulders and chest bulky and strong. She brushed her fingertips over his belt buckle, and then lower, just grazing over the hard column of flesh behind his fly. Heat flared in her body, her veins pulsing with liquid fire. His eyes watched her intently, and she bent her head to undo his belt and lower the zipper.

Intense curiosity and hot lust drove her on, wanting to see him, wanting to feel him, naked skin to naked skin, to circle her hand around his cock and hold him. But he grasped her hands and pulled them away from him. She looked up into his face, his eyes glittering, his lips parted as he breathed erratically.

“Hell yeah, I want you to touch me,” he rasped out. “But I’ll tell you when.” His hands gripped her wrists and moved them behind her back.

Surprised, she stared at him. For a moment they remained still, eyes locked, her arms restrained.

And then something filtered through Sasha, almost like…relief. A feeling of being safe and secure, a sense of reprieve at not having to be aggressive and take the lead, not knowing what he wanted or liked.

Jack would tell her.

Emotion swelled inside her, gratitude and surrender, and she nodded.

Heat flared in his eyes and his jaw tightened. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “You are fucking perfect.”

Her eyelashes fluttered at that. She was nowhere near perfect. But she liked that he thought so.

He transferred both her wrists to one hand, still grasping them firmly behind her back, and looked down at her body, her breasts thrust forward by the pose. Her nipples tightened painfully. His free hand touched one nipple, just with his fingertips, then the other. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

She kept her chin lifted, her eyes focused on his face. His hand flattened between her breasts, then inched upward, grazing over her collarbone, his fingers parting from his thumb until his hand rested on her throat. Her pulse beat against his palm, the edge of his hand just pressing against her windpipe. The weight there thrilled her, comforted her…confused her.

Another long moment passed as they stood like that. He was strong, far stronger than she was, and she recognized the vulnerability of the position she was in. Was she afraid? She tried to examine the myriad of emotions swirling inside her. Yes, there was a little fear, because, yes, she was vulnerable and she’d have to be stupid not to know that, but the fear made her blood rush hotter, her skin tingle…and made her pussy clench even harder, empty and aching. She felt the moisture dampening her panties. The edgy excitement only added to the eroticism of it all, amplifying it. Along with a pinch of fear was a huge desire to turn herself over to him, to give him whatever he wanted, let him do whatever he wanted, and some kind of intuition told her that whatever he wanted to do was going to give her great pleasure.

“Perfect,” he whispered, bending his head to slant his mouth over hers in a demanding kiss.

Chapter Fourteen

Jack slid his tongue into the silky wet heat of Sasha’s mouth. Christ, she tasted good, and her sweet responses to him had his cock pounding and his balls tight and hot. She moaned and swayed toward him. Her legs trembled, and he released her hands to catch her and swing her up into his arms.

She gasped and reached for his shoulders. He carried her over to the bed and sat her on the edge. He moved to flick on the lamp beside the bed because not only did he want to see her, he wanted her to see too.

He lifted one of her feet and slid the shoe off, letting his hand linger on her smooth instep, then the other. “Lie back,” he directed her. She lowered herself to the mattress and he reached for her panties. Knees together, she bent them and lifted her hips so he could drag the little black scrap of fabric and satin ribbons down her legs.

He paused for a moment to admire her, her body pale against the moss green duvet cover. His gaze tracked over the soft curves of her breasts tipped with small tawny nipples, her smooth stomach, the gentle dip of her waist and swell of her hips, the patch of dark gold curls between her thighs. She was fucking gorgeous like that, and he met her eyes again, where she regarded him with a hint of anxiety.

Lifting his chin, he shed his pants, underwear and socks, keeping his eyes on her the entire time. Her full lips parted as she watched, and color washed into her cheeks. He climbed onto the bed beside her on his knees, set his hands on her waist and easily lifted her farther up to the middle of the bed. And then he cupped her jaw, leaned over and kissed her.

The kiss went from slow and sweet to sexy and scorching in two point two seconds, and their mouths opened and fused in a long, hard kiss. He kissed her again and again, their mouths grinding together, her hands reaching for him. Heat rushed through his body and his hand slipped from her jaw, trailed down over her throat and lower between her breasts.

God, when he’d cupped her throat and she’d gazed back at him with sweet submission in those big blue eyes, he’d damn near wept. So long. So fucking long. For a moment his chest filled to the brim with emotion and goddammit, his eyes burned. Finally he was with her again.

He covered one breast and gently squeezed, loving the firm resilience of her flesh and how it filled his palm. He lowered his head to take her nipple between his lips, plumping the breast up for his mouth. He gently sucked, and his cock twitched against her hip. Christ, he was so hard he hurt, rigid and engorged. His insides burned with the need to have her, to possess her, because no matter what either of them said, she
was
his.

He cupped both breasts and his mouth moved from one nipple to the other in quick, hard sucks, her soft moans of pleasure filling his ears. “Taste so sweet,” he muttered. “Perfect little nipples. God, Sasha.” He licked one, then the other, then dragged his tongue down between them. He kissed her stomach, then lower, and her breathing accelerated even more as he laid his lips on the little puff of curls. He breathed in her scent, and it went straight to his head and made him dizzy, drunk with the heady perfume of her arousal and her warm skin. His mouth watered and his tongue tingled in anticipation of tasting her.

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