I was in penis heaven.
I pulled back slightly, placing both hands on his length, and decided to mess with him a little. As I admired his perfection, I looked up at him. “Would you call this a distraction?” I asked innocently, letting my tongue lick him from base to tip, playing it up as he watched me.
“Grace, what are you doing to me?” He moaned quietly, tracing his fingers lovingly around my face.
And in a voice that would have made a porn star proud, I answered back naughtily, “Sucking your cock.” I even shocked myself a little.
There was silence. Jack stopped moving—fingers stopped, hands stopped, hips even stopped rocking.
I closed my eyes in embarrassment. Oh, God, why did you say that? Too soon!
Which is why I was so surprised when I suddenly landed on the bed with such force that pillows were thrown all over the room.
Jack had picked me up, thrown me on the bed, and was now attacking me vigorously. My pants were unceremoniously yanked down and tossed aside. All that was left between this now-crazed Brit and me was a tiny pair of black lace panties—oops, I’d spoken too soon.
He tore, actually tore, my panties from my body, leaving me naked and in shock. Who knew the word cock would do all this? I’d have to remember that.
The sweet, sensual music of the Psychedelic Furs ended, and loud, aggressive industrial music filled the room. The Prodigy’s “Firestarter.”
Oh my.
Jack looked at me with crazy in his eyes, stopping where my legs met and licking his lips.
“Fucking brilliant,” he growled, and pulled my hips toward the edge of the bed, sinking down so that his face was level with them.
Then he bent his head to me and began to give me the most earth-shattering series of orgasms I had ever experienced in my entire life.
When his tongue touched me, I arched off the bed so violently that he had to hold me down. “No, love, you aren’t going anywhere,” he said, admonishing me, and the feel of his hot breath against me almost made me come again instantly. His hands gripped my hips, angling me so that I was completely vulnerable to whatever he wished to do to me. I shivered in anticipation.
Oh, sweet lord.
His tongue made another pass, dragging all the way up, stopping just below where I needed him, circling, and then pulling back again. I gave a passionate groan, knowing that he would tease me as long as he thought I could handle it. I didn’t know how long I could last. My hands buried themselves in my pillows as I gave myself over to the sensations that were coursing through me. The mix of the loud, crazy music and the feeling of Jack’s hair as it tickled my tummy was an amazing combination.
The music seemed to drive him on, setting a pace to his tongue. He began again, starting at the bottom and licking me, gathering me, never quite touching me where I wanted him, but dancing around it and over it, making me begin to moan and groan and thrash about on the bed. He did this for what seemed like hours, building me up and then letting me back down. It was maddening. It was intoxicating.
It was not to be believed.
“Oh, God, that’s so good!” I cried, and I could feel him smile against me as he moaned back, his lips vibrating slightly.
Holy Lord, Jack Hamilton is going down on you. And the Brit has mad skills.
“Grace, you taste unbelievable,” he murmured, letting his nose graze me. Then his fingers finally began pushing into me. I cried out from the sudden pleasure; feeling him inside of me was almost more than I could bear. I clenched down around him, unable to stop the good orgasm that was soon to rip through me.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he moaned, watching me react to his every touch, every stroke. His hands, his fingers, were genius.
I suddenly remembered the guitar in his bedroom. Guitar players always have the best hands.
I moaned again, beginning to lose it. He filled me up, pressing and twisting, searching for . . . fuck me, there it was. When he hit that, all my breath whooshed out of me in a rush. He had found what would forever be known as my J-spot.
I knew I was so close and I moved my hand from his hair, seeking his hand. His right hand let go of my hip and entwined with mine, and I began to see points of light dance across my eyes.
As he continued to apply pressure, stroking me from the inside, his tongue finally, thankfully, caressed me at the center of my world. He pressed it against me, not moving, not licking, not sliding, just holding me down and anchoring me with that one constant, perfect pressure.
And I came undone.
I chanted his name repeatedly as wave after wave crashed through me, my hands tight in his hair as my back arched and I screamed lustily, the insides of my eyelids a mix of exploding colors.
I lost track of all time. All I know is that in the space of several Prodigy songs, he made me come again and again. I was like a rag doll by the end, limp and limbless. He had taken me with his tongue and his fingers and his hands all over that bed. I was on the edge of the bed, and then I was flipped over on the bed. I was up against the headboard, spread-eagled, while he worked me from below. There was a particularly intense moment when he had me above him, my hands gripping the headboard for balance while he worked his magical fingers and his super-magical tongue inside me.
And he had marked me.
Just before he dragged his body back up mine, he’d nibbled lightly on the inside of my right thigh. I sighed his name once more and he actually bit down, piercing the skin and making me shiver delightfully. He had flashed me a triumphant grin—there is nothing like a proud, proud man. A man should feel pride in his work, and making me come was now his job.
I had never been given it so good in my life. My throat was hoarse, my legs were on permanent shimmy-shake, and I couldn’t wipe the grin from my tired face.
And I was still wearing my heels. Slut.
I was lying on my back with Jack snuggled up against me, his head pressed into the nook between my neck and my shoulders. His hand absently continued to caress my breasts, traveling from one to the other while I breathed contentedly beneath him. I had no energy to speak with, but I did channel a little strength into making my fingers scratch his head, granting me a peaceful sigh back. It was the least I could do. He had earned it.
“Grace?” he whispered long after the music had switched to something softer.
“Hmm?” was all I could manage.
“I love that you called out my name when you came,” he said quietly.
“I did?” I asked incredulously.
“You don’t remember?”
“Sweet Nuts, I don’t remember anything after you ripped my panties off. I think I may have blacked out.” I sighed.
He laughed and continued to stroke my breasts. It was more than pleasant.
“I’ll tell you what, though. You give mama a few minutes to recover here, and then it is on, Johnny Bite-Down.” The thought sent a fresh wave of desire through me.
“Grace, you have sex hair!” He laughed, guiding my hand up to the back of my head, where I could feel a nest beginning to form.
“Ah well, it was worth it.” I giggled, rolling on top of him and sliding down his body. “Now then, let’s see what young Mr. Hamilton is up for . . . ooh, I see he is already up,” I said teasingly.
“Hey, I thought you said you needed some recovery time, Crazy,” he said, protesting weakly, trying to grab my shoulders.
“Hamilton, shut the fuck up and enjoy this,” I commanded, using his own words against him.
He smiled and nestled his head back into the pillows, folding his arms behind his head to give him a better view of me.
“Carry on, then.” He smirked.
And carry on I did.
twelve
I crawled down his body like a smitten kitten, intent on where I was headed. He hissed when I let my breasts brush against him, sliding up and back again with purposeful movements designed to make him come unglued. This was not my first time at the rodeo, and I knew I was quite good at t
his. Though he had started out smirking, his mouth had quickly turned into a perfectly shaped O as his eyes closed and he exhaled slowly.
“Grace,” he whispered, drawing my name out for literally seconds. His hands returned to my hair almost instantly and brushed it back from my face. When his eyes opened again, he saw me positioned with my mouth directly above him, not moving at all.
I let my breath caress him and I watched him twitch beneath me. Then I gently took him into my mouth, just barely, and let my tongue sweep out to touch the tip of him.
He groaned.
The sound of Jack Hamilton groaning was quite possibly the most beautiful sound in the world.
I let my fingertips caress the length of him and then grasped him firmly. His hips bucked off the bed, as my own had done earlier. Turnabout was fair play; I was going to enjoy teasing him.
I took him into my mouth and pushed my hot tongue against him, making him buck again. I stroked him quickly and then slowly, alternating my grip between maddeningly gentle and perfectly tight. He let his hands loose in my hair, gripping me when he needed an anchor.
I wrapped my lips around the base of him and then gently surrounded him with my teeth. I pulled back, letting my teeth graze his skin with gentle pressure, releasing him with relish. I immediately took him in again, burying him in my mouth as I had done earlier, letting him fill me. His breath took on a husky quality, and I knew he was getting close. I couldn’t let that happen.
I stopped and sat back on my heels, and his eyes sprang open. Tilting my head as I looked at him, I grinned.
“Grace, quit fucking with me,” he growled thickly.
“Oh, I have only just begun to fuck with you,” I whispered. Leaning down again, I took his hands and pressed them against the sides of my breasts, pushing them together. Then I took him between them, squeezing him and earning another groan of approval.
“Ah, Grace, your tits are heaven.” He moaned.
“Mmm, does that feel good?”
“You have no idea,” he answered roughly.
I had some idea.
I bent down and took him back into my mouth again. I knew the sight of me with him between my breasts would be more than he could handle, and when my tongue found him again, I knew he was seconds away from his release. My mouth was furious on him, pumping him in and out of me, and his groans grew steadily louder as he tried to pull away from me.
“Grace, oh God, Grace, I’m going to . . . mmmm . . . ,” he stuttered, sitting up, trying to be a gentleman about this.
I paused only to say, “I know,” and with one hand pushed him back onto the bed, lowering myself to him again.
I felt him starting to come before he actually did, and I kept my mouth tightly on him. I knew he wanted me to pull away but I wouldn’t miss this for anything. I felt him explode in my mouth, and I continued to keep pace with him as he shook.
Watching Jack come was like nothing I had ever seen. He said my name repeatedly, loudly at first, and then quietly, almost reverently, as he began to climb back down. I watched as his face, brow furrowed and clenched in passion, began to soften, and my favorite smile crept in.
He was luminous.
He was angelic.
He was mine. Whether he knew it or not, he was mine.
I released him from my mouth, kissing him softly. I planted sweet kisses all along his belly and his chest as I crawled back up and settled into his nook, where he held me close. He continued to say my name, getting quieter with each breath he took. Then he kissed my forehead, pulling me closer to him.
“Jesus, Grace, that was amazing,” he finally said.
“Mmm, I’m glad you thought so,” I answered, snuggling in.
We lay quietly for a few minutes, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Only our breathing and the light humming sound he made every so often punctuated the silence.
Then I heard something else . . . a snicker, and then a thump. Then another snicker.
“Did you hear that?” he whispered.
“Yes, unfortunately I did,” I whispered back, gathering the sheets and pulling them protectively around us. “You might want to prepare yourself,” I said, warning him, knowing we only had seconds.
“What are you talk—”
Then the door burst open.
Holly and Nick danced into the room, laughing madly. Holly looked at the two of us tangled in the sheets and opened her mouth to say something but started giggling again as she tried to get it out.
Jack stared at them and looked at me for help.
“Wait for it,” I said, quietly instructing him.
Holly took a deep breath, and as Nick sank to his knees in hysterics, she finally said, “The British are coming! The British are coming!”
She fell on the bed, laughing like a loon, and Jack looked at me again with raised eyebrows.
“I am so sorry,” I said, pulling myself up into a sitting position, which he mimicked. He graciously pulled the sheets up a little higher to cover me more and, after a second thought, pulled his side higher, as well.
We let the two fools laugh until they calmed down, and then I spoke.
“Are you done now?”
“That depends. Are you done?” she asked, starting to laugh again. Nick was now pulling himself off the floor, and he collapsed on the bed as well.
“Holly, the British already came,” Jack said, shaking his head at the crazy that was currently on display.
The two of them looked at each other and broke into a fresh round of laughter.
“There are too many people on this bed. If you’re wearing pants, you have to leave, now,” I announced, pushing Nick with my covered toe.
Jack’s mouth was turning up at the corners and he looked as though he was suppressing his own laughter.
“Don’t encourage them; they’ll never leave,” I said, scolding him. “And, Holly, Jack and you work together! I’m pretty sure this is crossing some kind of line into a hostile working environment.”
“Do you feel hostile toward me, Jack?” she asked, turning to him.
“No, although if you had come in earlier, I wouldn’t have felt too kindly toward you,” he answered, taking my hand and kissing the back of it.
I smiled at him. This was insane, but we were good.
“Awww,” Nick and Holly said at the same time. They looked as though they were going to start getting comfortable, and I was not having it.
“It smells like sex in here,” Nick whispered loudly to Holly, and I began to blush while Jack began to chortle.
“Okay, that’s it. Out!” I shouted, gathering the covers and starting to get up.
“No, no, we’ll leave. I don’t want to see any more than I need to,” Holly said, finally pushing herself off the bed.
“Speak for yourself, sister. I haven’t seen enough,” Nick said, also dragging himself off the bed.
“Next time, we lock them out,” Jack said, pulling me back to him as they made their way to the door.
“She’s got sex hair,” I heard Nick say as they walked out.
“Well, durr. Didn’t you hear all the screaming?” she giggled back. “Night, kids.” She closed the door behind her.
I jumped out of bed immediately, crossing to the door and quickly locking it.
“What are you doing?” Jack asked as I stood by the door for a few seconds.
I held up my hand, motioning for him to be quiet. Sure enough, not ninety seconds had gone by when I saw the knob begin to turn.
“Damn it, they locked it,” I heard Holly whisper.
“I didn’t think she’d take it so hard,” Nick whispered back.
I looked back at Jack, still in bed.
“That’s what he said!” we both yelled, and we heard them run downstairs, one of them tripping and hitting the floor with a loud smack. We both laughed.
“Sorry about that,” I said, leaning against the door.
“No problem. Now get that sweet ass back into this bed before I come over there a
nd get you,” he answered.
I stared at him, his lean torso visible above the sheet, which had settled low around his hips. He was leaning back against my headboard, and he had never looked sexier.
He gazed at me with a now-familiar gleam in his eye.
“Already? Don’t you need a few minutes?” I asked.
He pulled the sheets a little lower. Nope, I guess not.
“No, ma’am. I am good to go,” he answered, curling his finger in a come-hither gesture.
Suddenly I loved the fact that he was only twenty-four.
thirteen
That night went down (pun intended and acknowledged) in history, forever known as “Hamilton: 5/Sheridan: Lost Track After 17.” It was probably the best night I ever spent in a bed with a man.
And on the floor with a man.
And up against the door with a man.
And, God watch over and protect us, on the floor of the closet with a man.
As the sun crept into the sky we were lying next to each other, totally spent. It had been like the Oral Olympics. At one point poor Holly had actually come to the door, begging us to let her get some sleep. I couldn’t respond, being otherwise engaged in the throes of another intense orgasm, so Jack removed his mouth long enough to tell her to go away, returning to me quickly. Such chivalry.
We were facing each other on our sides and he had his arm under my head, propping me up. My leg was thrown over his hip, my arm wrapped around his waist, and I trailed my fingers up and down his back. We hadn’t spoken for a while, too tired to say a word. He was pressing his lips against my face, my temples, my eyelids, my lips, while softly humming a tune I didn’t recognize.
I let out a groan and stretched my arms over my head, arching my back, listening as my muscles let me know they were overworked. My breasts were dangerously close to his face, and he couldn’t resist placing a soft kiss on my left nipple—which responded in turn. Then his hand found my right nipple. I moaned softly, then pushed his hand away and rolled to the other side of the bed, my back to him.
“We have to stop, this is insane. I literally cannot handle any more. I think I’ve lost brain function. I can actually feel myself becoming stupid,” I said, digging under the covers and burying my face into the pillows. He steamrolled across the bed into me, sliding his hands beneath the covers and finding my hips. He molded his body into mine, pressing his chest into my back.