Filthy Secret

She grabbed his hand, fully intending to lead him through the tiny apartment to the tiny bedroom so they could give each other some decidedly not tiny orgasms, but he planted his boots to the floorboards and didn’t budge.

“Jo.” He pinned her with a stare so intense that she stopped where she was. “I need you to say it.”

“Say…what?” she asked, genuinely confused.

Sawyer smiled. “All of it. What you want. What you don’t. If those things change at any point. I’m all for living in the moment”-he brushed a thumb over her bottom lip-“but none of what happens tonight should be a risk for you.”

“It’s not,” Jo said, the words immediate. “I want you, Sawyer.” Summoning her courage, she continued, keeping her gaze steady on his even as her thoughts made her cheeks heat. “I want you to take me down the hall to my bedroom. Once we’re there, I want you to take off my clothes, then let me go as slow as I want while I return the favor.”

A sound came out of him, something caught between a moan and a grunt, and the power of it shot right between Jo’s thighs, making her bolder.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“I want you to touch me until I beg you not to stop, and then I want to fuck you until you beg me right back. So, please.” Her fingers tightened over his. “Take me to bed, Sawyer. Give me what I need.”

His kiss was more of a claiming, and Jo gave in to it without a second thought. They managed to move through the kitchen and down the hallway, pausing a few times to let their mouths linger together. Jo kicked the door to her room all the way open and led him to the spot beside her bed. Her room was heavily shadowed-probably a good thing, since she wasn’t exactly a neat freak-and she gave her eyes a minute to adjust to the dim strains of light filtering down the hallway from the main living space before turning to Sawyer. His mouth found hers, then the curve of her cheek, then the-ah

-sensitive skin behind her ear.

“So pretty,” he murmured, her heart racing in reply. He slid both hands to the hem of her top, gripping the fabric and lifting it up in one swift motion. A curse grated out of him as he took in her red lace-and-satin bra, his fingers tracing the ribbonlike straps. But he didn’t let his touch get any bolder, and all at once, Jo realized that he was waiting.

I need you to say it.

“Take it off, Sawyer.” Jo shrugged one shoulder just enough to loosen the bra strap that had been resting there, then repeated the movement with her other shoulder. “I want you to touch me.”

He trailed a blunt fingertip over the swell of her breasts, one then the other. His callused touch sent a shiver through her, turning her nipples into hard points, and he cupped her with both hands. Returning his mouth to her neck, Sawyer strung a trail of open-mouthed kisses over her collarbone. His lips rested on the line where satin met skin for just a beat, and then, as if something broke free inside of him, he tugged both breasts free, pulling one nipple past his lips as he rolled the other firmly between his thumb and forefinger.

“Oh, God,” Jo sighed, her spine bowing into the contact. Sawyer took the encouragement, his movements purposeful as he tried out different touches and speeds to discover what pleasured her most. Her clit throbbed with every lick and suck, her need snowballing into something that had no name when he cupped both breasts together to alternate his attention in faster flicks of his tongue.

“Sawyer.” It was all she could manage to get past the uncut want singing through her body, turning her panties wet and her mind into a haze.

Thankfully, he didn’t make her wait. With fast hands, he finished undressing her, then let her tug off his T-shirt and lower his jeans as he kicked out of his boots, and whoa. Whoa.

Sawyer had the body of a Greek sculpture, lean and defined and perfect, and he was looking at her as if she were a gift.

Jo’s need to be touched took a small detour at the sight of him standing there beside her bed in nothing but a pair of dark gray boxer briefs. His sculpted muscles were visible even in the soft light, and she ran her fingers over his shoulders, then his chest, taking him in. She mapped the hard plane of his abdomen with her hands, a thrill bursting through her at every hitch in his breath. Jo’s throat knotted when she got to the scattering of hair below his navel, and their moans twined together when she slid her hand over the impressive length of his cock.

“Fuck, Jo,” he grated, his hips moving in time with her hand as she stroked him over the thin fabric. He dropped a hand between them, his fingers sliding over her pussy with ease, and Jo was entirely helpless against the moan that flew out of her.