“I won’t hurt you—you know that.” He kisses me again with just the right amount of suction; my body knows who’s in control here. Jameson Miles may have given me control of drink ordering, but it’s glaringly obvious he will never give me control in the bedroom.
Not that I want him to; what he does is sheer perfection.
He begins to lift me, slowly and carefully at first, and we go at a controlled speed. He looks up at me in awe.
“Oh,” I moan. “So . . . good,” I whimper.
His eyes roll back in his head as he lifts me higher and slams me down harder. My hands are on his broad shoulders, and I feel the muscles contract beneath me.
He begins to moan as he slams me onto his body, the look on his face one of sheer ecstasy.
I tip my head back as a freight train of an orgasm comes shuddering de
