Eight

Jill

You Light My Fire

“Yours,” I gasped, on the edge of orgasm from only his touch. I didn’t even care when Jack tore away the flimsy panties. Worth it. And when his face buried again in my center, I lost track of all reality. All that matter was us on this bed, reconnecting in the most primal way.

Jack pushed my legs wide and planted my feet onto the comforter, his forearms over the tops while his hands opened my thighs farther for him.

“Fuck, you taste good, and you’re so wet,” he groaned against me. One hand left my leg to part me for his mouth while he nipped and licked, his thumb rubbing over my clit and sending fiery reaction through me. “I need you to come for me, honey, ’cause this is gonna be fast the first time, and I need you satisfied.”

As if that were a question. For all his supposed faults, a list that dwindled down by the moment, Jack had never left me languishing on the edge of climax. He valued my orgasms almost more than I did.

My fingers laced in his hair, pressing him closer while he slid two of his inside me.

“Oh, yeah, baby, that’s it,” he said as my walls squeezed around the digits, the feel of him such sweet relief after a year. His hand worked me while he sucked the tender flesh of my inner thigh again, no doubt leaving his mark, a habit that didn’t bother me. No, instead, my orgasm slammed over me.

“Jack!” I screamed. My hips thrust up off the bed, meeting the drives of his fingers. “Please… Oh…God!”

I was still in the throes of it when Jack rose over me, driving his cock inside my still spasming walls, going as deep as he possibly could. I whimpered, pinned but wanting even more. It was so right. I’d missed him so much.

“Fuck, yeah, honey. Squeeze me like that,” he growled, dragging down the cups of my bra and latching onto one pebbled nipple. Lightning speared down to my center, thrilling through me and winding the tension in my core even tighter. Harder.

My nails scored down his back while we moved together, rediscovering what we’d lost. I’d never let him go again. Never. As long as he still wanted me after the horrible misunderstanding.

We collided into one another, Jack slightly swiveling his hips each time he bottomed out, his pubic bone grinding over my clit. It was sweet torturous pleasure, and I grasped his ass, pulling him closer.

He pressed his lips to mine, sharing our flavor, before he pulled back, stilling, and stared down at me. We were locked into the moment, locked into one another. One. Nothing else existed.

“Never leave me,” he breathed. “Please. It killed me. I couldn’t bear it again.”

“It killed me, too. I…” I wanted to tell him how heartbroken I’d been, but not now. “I’m here. I’m here. I’m with you, Jack. I’m with you.”

“I’m never letting you go.” The hard slide of his cock pushing deep again, punctuated his vow, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, holding him to it.

“Never,” I echoed before we momentarily lost words, dragged under by the magnitude of this moment, the tidal wave of carnal lust and the knowledge we were really, truly together again.

Jack rolled, bringing me over him. His hands skimmed up my body then back to unfasten my bra while I rode him. Harsh gasps poured from me while we fucked, loved, promised our futures to each other.

“You’re a goddess,” he muttered while he cupped my breasts then pinched the nipples. My back arched, my cry coloring the air around us. “That’s right. Tell me how much you like it.”

We were never quiet, and tonight was no different. The sounds got us off as much as the caresses and making love.

“Jack! Jack! I’m…”

“Come, Jill. Now.” Rolling, he brought my legs over his shoulders, my head hanging perilously over the side of the bed, my hand bracing onto the floor while he pistoned into me. I screamed, coming in wave after wave, just moments before I felt him jerking inside me, painting my insides with his heat, marking me as his once more. I’d always been his, though.

Carefully, he eased me sideways and fully onto the bed, to lie under him while we gasped, still touching each other everywhere we could.

“Round one,” he promised while lights seemed to flicker in my vision.

“Give me a minute and I’ll be ready. Maybe ten. I feel like I ran a marathon.”

He chuckled, cuddling me to him as he shifted us onto the pillows. “There’s a reason I run 10K every morning.”

“Yeah, you’re insane,” I mumbled into his damp chest. Lights still seemed to pulse behind my lids. Shaking my head, I opened my eyes and blinked a few times. It was worse, like a million candles dancing wildly. I shot upright, staring out his window.

“Jack! Call 9-1-1!” I yelled, leaping from bed to grab my pants.

“What?”

“Your yard is on fire!”

Almost in slow motion, he turned to look then swore, flying into action. He grabbed his phone from his pants, dialing before he started to dress.

“Go out the back door,” he told me. Tossing a T-shirt to me. He tugged on his pants while he talked into the phone, at the same time marshalling me toward the slider into the back.

“Shoes!” I said, not wanting to go barefoot into a foot of snow.

“Wait here.” He ran toward the front and came back with my shoes, purse and our coats. At the back door, he stepped into boots then half dragged me out, making a wide loop around the fire and out to the street, before hustling me to my house. We stood on my porch, watching flames consume every decoration in his yard. I was thankful we were safe but terrified the fire would reach his house.

The fire department was only a few streets away and arrived within moments of Jack’s call. Minutes later, his hopes for winning the prize for the shelter were a smoldering mess. Tears filled my eyes as I stared at the destruction.

“We’re safe,” he muttered, clutching me to him. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

“We’re safe,” I echoed. We were together again, but now, I was heartbroken for a whole other reason. We didn’t let go of each other for a long time that night, only parting the next morning when we each had to go to work.