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|Before Jamaica Lane(On Dublin Street #3)(53) by Samantha Young|
He caressed my ample bottom, his eyes filled with a dark intensity as his knees nudged my knees apart. Without a word he slid inside me.
I gasped, watching as he closed his eyes as if savoring the feel of me. He pulled back and this time he slammed into me. I bit out a cry, watching as his eyes opened, his grip practically bruising on my hips. Through clenched teeth, he asked, ‘Does this feel like I don’t want you?’
I reared against him, silently begging for more. ‘No.’ I shook my head, and then arched back as he thrust into me. Just like that, Nate began to screw the mortification right out of me.
My head fell forward, my hair spilling across the couch, my cries mingling with Nate’s grunts as he rocked into me with increasing desperation. When his movements suddenly slowed, thus delaying my encroaching orgasm, I glanced over my shoulder at him through the strands of my wild hair. ‘Why?’ I moaned.
‘I want to feel you,’ he responded, his voice rough as his hand slid up the damp skin of my stomach. The pressure of his hold forced me back against his chest, changing the angle of him inside me.
‘Nate.’ I sighed in pleasure, my head resting against his shoulder.
He cupped my breast lovingly in his right hand while his other tickled back down my stomach. My hips jerked in reaction to the press of his fingers against my clit. As he worked me with his fingers, he began to work me again with his cock.
I moved against him, finding rhythm to his sensuous torture, sliding up and down on his dick, feeling out of my mind with sensation. I wrapped my arm behind me, my fingers biting into the back of his shoulder as I held on to him for dear life.
‘This is me and you,’ he panted, driving faster and harder into me. ‘Don’t ever run. Not from me.’
‘Okay.’ I shook my head against his shoulder. ‘Okay.’
He stilled his fingers on my clit. ‘Promise me.’
‘Nate, don’t stop, don’t stop,’ I whispered hurriedly. ‘Please, I’m so close. I’m so close.’
He rocked up into me and stilled.
‘Nate!’ I keened, my hands dropping to his hips, gripping him behind me. ‘Please!’
‘Promise me. Tell me you won’t run.’ He bit my ear, the nip almost painful. ‘Tell me you won’t run from me ever. And then beg me to f**k you.’
My brain was too busy firing neurons for me to even question it. ‘I won’t ever run from you,’ I gasped, urging my ass down on his lap. ‘Now please, please f**k me. Make me come.’
Suddenly I was on my stomach, Nate’s chest to my back, his animalistic grunts and growls filling my ears as he thrust into me over and over, pounding me into the couch, and pounding me toward an orgasm that blew my head off.
My scream of release filled the apartment, muffled only somewhat by Nate’s own hoarse shout as he came at the first clench of my climax.
The following Saturday I huddled under an umbrella with Jo as we waited for Ellie and Joss to step out of the house on Scotland Street. The estate agent, Ryan, an ex-colleague of Jo’s from when she’d worked at Braden’s estate agency, Carmichael & Co., began talking to Ellie as Jo threaded her arm through mine.
Adam and Ellie had found a place they liked. The spacious Georgian flat had stripped wood floors, high ceilings, and period details. Any work that needed done was merely cosmetic. Ellie was in love, Adam really liked it, and Els wanted our opinion.
It was a resounding ‘yes’ from us girls.
Once Ryan left, Ellie grinned at us excitedly. ‘I’m so glad you guys like it. I really appreciate you coming out to see it.’ She started down the stairs and Joss rushed to get under her umbrella with her as we followed. ‘Especially you, Liv.’ She smiled curiously over her shoulder. ‘You’ve been so busy lately.’
I smiled back in response, hoping it wasn’t a slightly startled, panicked smile.
Jo squeezed my arm against her ribs. ‘It’s funny,’ she murmured so only I could hear, ‘but Nate’s been busy lately too.’
Forcing myself not to react, I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t want to lie outright, so that meant I was left with ignorant silence. In truth, we were five weeks into our lessons – could we call it lessons anymore? – and now I was getting a little desperate to talk to someone about what was going on with me and Nate. Jo was more experienced than I was about relationships, and men in general, and now I was at a point where I was so in need of advice that I wondered if I should let that need overshadow all the reasons I had not to go to her.
We came to an abrupt stop on the sidewalk as Joss’s cell rang. She fumbled in her purse for it and smiled apologetically at us as she answered.
Watching her was disconcerting. It was disconcerting because something I didn’t understand but definitely didn’t like entered her eyes. Growing pale, she muttered her thanks to whoever was on the other end of the line and let her phone dangle in midair as she stared off into space.
‘Joss?’ Ellie shook her gently, sensing what both Jo and I did.
Something was seriously wrong.
‘Joss, what is it?’
She blinked suddenly, and looked over at us, her eyes glassy with fear. ‘I have to go.’
‘Joss?’ Ellie took a step toward her as she began to back away. ‘Jocelyn?’
‘I have to go.’
‘I … just’ – she touched a hand to her forehead, turning paler by the second – ‘I have to go.’
‘Seriously, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?’
‘Ellie,’ she snapped, but as soon as her eyes clashed with her sister-in-law’s she softened. ‘Just … I need to be alone for a little while.’
After a moment’s thorough contemplation Ellie finally nodded. Silently, we watched as Joss turned on her booted heel and slowly walked away from us, her arms crossed over her chest, her chin tucked.
Ellie, Jo, and I shared concerned looks. ‘What. Was. That?’ I asked, feeling my stomach shift with unease.
Ellie didn’t answer as she pulled out her own cell with shaking hands. She flicked the screen a few times and began typing quickly.
‘What are you doing now?’ Jo looked down at Els’s phone, then turned her gaze back in the direction of where our friend had taken off.
‘Texting Braden to let him know.’