Jake groans against my neck as my hand closes around him inside his boxers. I almost jerk out of his hands with pleasure as his fingers find what I've wanted from him for weeks. Lack of touch down there has me at my most sensitive, and I can already tell that I'll cum the second he is inside of me, not just those wickedly good fingers. Jake's mouth captures mine again as he slides his hand in a rhythmic motion, and I start the familiar internal building of hot waves and clenching pleasure. It's happening too fast. Weeks of not being touched are making my body long to climax. I'm over-sensitive; at this rate, it will be over before it's started. I don't want it that way. I want to savor this and enjoy it. I have him back in his entirety, and I want it to be everything I've been dreaming of.
"Jake, wait." I pant as my legs start trembling. I don't want it this way. I want us to get past his emotional barrier and have him inside me, all his hot hardness. If he makes me finish before he starts, he might not follow through, and I need him more than air right now. I need his body and mine as one. He buries his face in my neck again, kissing me and pushing further into the rhythm our grinding has created with subtle moans.
"Jake? Emma?" A voice rings through the house rather loudly. The familiar song of a woman you don't want catching you up against a wall with her son, semi-naked and about to screw you. Jake immediately snaps his head up and looks at me in sheer surprise.
"Fuck, it's my mom." Jake pulls his fingers out of me, slides me down to my feet, and hauls down my dress, throwing a quick kiss on the corner of my mouth before retrieving his T-shirt from the floor and yanking it on crazily in one fell swoop; a move suggesting this isn't the first time he's almost been caught red-handed by her.
Noooooooooooo!
I huff and pick up my cardigan, previously discarded on the floor next to me. Jake adjusts himself and buttons his jeans in almost lightning-flash speed, already walking toward the door to see Sylvana while I sort myself back from the frazzled horny mess we've gotten ourselves into. My face is on fire, and my body is screaming for release, tingling in a crazy motion, making me as cranky as sin. I want to cry or kick something … really, really, hard. We were so goddamn close!
Jake was so close to getting over whatever this bloody stupid fucking thing is.
I stomp around in a circle, buttoning up my cardigan and straightening my dress, trying hard to bring some calm to the fury of hormones ravaging me.
Maybe smashing something will help.
We were so close to him trying again, but now, with the interruption from his mother, I'm not sure he will do that anymore, especially if cooling off while talking to Sylvana gives him time to re-think all this, make him go back to not wanting to try at all. It was unplanned and completely fueled by the thought of Daniel and Leila marking his territory. I could scream right now!
How on Earth am I going to find a way to get that spark back in him to where we'd almost been?
My skin is still tingling with the memory of his touch, and I am sure as hell not going back to its absence. That sizzling sensation on my body has me aching with longing, a pain so intense that I am not, in any way, going to let this go. I need Jake to have sex with me, or I will go insane.
I wander into the hall and am greeted by the sight of mother and son talking. Jake looks unruffled and normal, not that it surprises me. Even after full-blown, mind-numbing sex, he has a knack for looking completely fine. Sylvana, on the other hand, looks flustered and completely uncomfortable.
There's an embarrassingly loud wailing sound echoing from upstairs, much louder out here than in the room I just left, traveling due to having no furniture or floor coverings in the empty echoing house. Sylvana's face turns beetroot as the noise pitches higher.
Yes, we're standing here listening to Leila having what sounds like an earth-shattering orgasm right now … Lovely.
"So, yeah, I'll bring Emma over soon, Mamma. We won't be long." Jake kisses her on the cheek and walks to the door talking loudly to cover the moans still happening overhead, trying his hardest to get her out the door fast. Jake is still an old-fashioned boy at heart, and subjecting his mother to any kind of sexual noise is almost as painful for him as it is for her. He looks positively agitated. I'm trying not to count how many seconds it's lasting, annoyed with green-eyed jealousy as I glare at Jake's back a little moodily and curse internally at our interruption.
It should be me making all that noise.
I don't know why Sylvana was here or if her departure is because of the obviously cringe-worthy noises upstairs, but I can't help but sigh with disappointment. The noise upstairs reaches its pinnacle with a rather embarrassing long, drawn-out scream and then deafening silence.
Thank God for that.
Jake shuts the front door and looks toward the ceiling with a hint of the Carrero Death Glare before slowly walking back to me. He takes a long breath and glances back at the door, checking if his mother is completely out of earshot.
"Remind me later to beat the shit out of Danny." He grumbles and takes my hand loosely. Again, he has that whole aura of distance with a calm and gentlemanly touch that screams celibate. I immediately get the vibe that what started between us will not continue at all.
"Why'd your mom leave so soon?" I ask with more than a little attitude. Jake looks at me with a frown and raised eyebrow combo, pointing out the obvious.
Ah okay. So maybe I would've run off too, if I hadn't been in the middle of trying to achieve the same noises myself.
"About before, Emma, maybe we should leave it for a bit." Jake avoids looking at me. That urge to bash him on the head takes me over, disappointed rage, and crazy hormones rise, hitting me hard.
I goddamn knew it.
"Not a fucking chance." I snap in complete tantrum mode and yank my hand out of his. "I've had enough of this. You're more than capable, as you've just proven, and if you don't make good on what you started in there at some point today … then I'm going back to Queens until you fucking well do!" I spit harshly, lifting my chin toward him in complete frustration, weeks of pent-up sexual desire kicking in. Jake gawps, totally taken aback by this sudden and very loud verbal defiance, and raises his hands in defense.
"Emma …" Jake puts a hand to my face, and I slap it away, a Leila-type maneuver coming in handy. I am so beyond angry right now, and the lack of sex between us has finally come to a head. I can't handle this anymore. It's torture.
"Don't goddamn "Emma" me!" Tears prick at my eyes through sheer exasperation. This situation is getting beyond ridiculous, and if I'm being honest, it's not just about the lack of sex either.
"You don't want me, do you?" I spit as tears start falling hard. "You don't get the same lust I used to make you feel?" His face crumbles as he steps toward me, but I step back. He looks devastated, which only upsets me more but makes me think that maybe, finally, I've hit a nerve.
"Baby?" He tries to reach out for me again, but I hit his hand away harder than before, fueled by heartbreak and emotions cruising through me at speed, pain aching inside.
"No. Don't touch me unless you're going to have sex with me! Do you have any idea how it feels having you go from being unable to keep your hands off me to this?" I wipe the tear away from my chin angrily, moving anytime he tries to catch hold of me. Every frustration of the past few weeks is bubbling to the surface in an extreme emotional breakdown and raging insecurity, raising an ugly, tortured head.
"It's not like that, Emma … You know I still want you that way." He's trying, but I'm not interested in hearing it, so fueled by hormones and frustration, my irrational mood is moving back in. His actions of late haven't shown me that he still feels that way, and now it's no longer good enough to just hope.
"I want the Jake Carrero with zero ability to stop lust and love consuming him. Where is he? The guy who screwed me in the back of a limo and the guy who pushed me against a hotel wall. Because that's who I fucking need!" I'm stomping around, waving my hands, letting all fury loose, Teen Emma throwing her ponytail back in defiance.
"Emma, I don't know what else to say." Jake's face is a mix of panic and pain, holding up his hands in a defensive manner, and he has no clue how to handle my sudden outburst or this version of me. This was supposed to be a happy day, getting the keys to our first home and coming to see it now that it's all ours. It's ruined because our friends were too horny to get out of this house before having a quickie, and it makes me aware that they are behaving exactly like we used to.
"You haven't touched me that way since you kissed her!" I snap loudly, and his expression instantly turns sheepish. I swear I see the blood drain from his face, and I falter for a moment as a tiny flash of doubt comes back to haunt me from that bitch's words. Maybe he did do more than kiss her? I shake it away as stupid.
"I know." He drops his gaze to the floor and closes his eyes. "I know how this looks, Bambina, but it's not like that. Hurting you, breaking up, and then the baby fucked my head up more than I know how to explain, and I'm scared to have sex with you." His voice is low and sincere, stopping my rampant storming around almost instantly. I calmly turn to him, holding the crazy still for an explanation.
"Because of the baby? Talk to me, Jake, because this is killing me." I beg him, moving toward him, holding onto the hem of his jumper like a vulnerable child, trying to understand.
"Every time I get close, Emma, all I can see is how you looked at me that night. It's not just about the baby. It's about how much I hurt you!" His eyes come to meet mine and flit down to my mouth, unable to rest on one feature, from eyes to mouth and back, as though all he's thinking about is kissing me. I'm shocked into silence by this unexpected confession.
"What do you mean?" I breathe softly. He slides his hands over my shoulders and pulls me closer so we're nose to nose.
"I told you I needed to learn to forgive myself too and that's what's stopping me. I haven't forgiven myself for hurting you. It doesn't matter that you seem to be able to forgive me and love me. I still feel like a completely shitty asshole for what I did to you. I don't deserve every part of you back, Emma. When I look at you, it kills me that I hurt you. This perfect, angelic, trusting face that looks at me like I'm her everything. Don't you see how much it hurts to know the sadness you carried in these beautiful eyes for the past few months is because of me? Not some bastard from your past but me … That I hurt you, baby…. I never wanted to be that guy to you. When you told me what happened to you, I swore to myself, right there and then, that I'd never do that to you. I'd never do anything to put that look of devastation there again, but I did, and I saw it, and no matter how hard I've tried, I can't get your broken face out of my head anytime I think of touching you that way." Jake's voice breaks.
His hands tighten on my shoulders, and he clears his throat to dislodge the intense emotions caught there. I am stupefied into silence. My head is racing around in circles, unable to formulate one sentence with the mish-mash of thoughts brimming through my brain. My heart is aching between love at what he's saying, how deeply scarred it has made him, and by sadness that he can't overcome in the way I have.
"Jake … If I can forgive you, then all of this is stupid." I blink up at him and see nothing but guilt and self-hatred looking back. This is never what I wanted for him; this is not how I want him to still feel about what he did. I need to fix this because this is not the Jake I want or the one I know he can be.
I lift my hand to his on my shoulder and clutch it, pulling it down, then turn with complete determination and yank him with me. He follows obediently like a child as though he somehow knows I'm in no mood to be questioned or refused. I storm straight for the front hall, hauling him with me at speed before he can protest. I turn at the stair and pull him after me. He's being compliant, letting me, for the first time in existence, be the one to take charge without argument; a part of me tells me he wants this as much as I do. I'm empowered and not in the mood for any resistance.
Daniel and Leila appear at the top of the stairs as we level them, looking a little disheveled. Daniel is sporting a bloody nose and a grin like the Cheshire Cat; I don't want to know. They obviously have some severely kinky preferences, and Daniel can handle Leila at her absolute worst. She seems to look a little less aggressive, at least, and as his hand is on her ass without any refusal from her, I assume it's all good.
"Let yourself out. We will resume whatever later … Don't wait for us." I command and give Jake another demanding yank behind me. He follows obediently with absolutely no expression on his face. He's probably mulling over everything he said in the kitchen and wondering if I am having some sort of psychotic break that he should indulge in because I am fragile and pregnant … I wouldn't put it past him.
I catch Daniel throwing a cautious look over my head at Jake. He seems confused but sees some sort of sign on Jake's face that satisfies him, so they both slide past us and head down the stairs. Leila giggles as she mumbles, "about time." The sound of a slapped ass echoes our way, and they disappear out the door.
I lead Jake in a very commanding manner to the biggest bedroom of the house. The one that previously held the huge four-poster bed, the one I've already chosen as our bedroom. It's the master suite of the whole house with the best view, and I'll make a goddamn start on claiming my home! Bedroom first.
It has thick plush carpets and drapes left hanging on the windows. I let go of Jake at the door and walk into the room toward the windows, grabbing the curtains and drawing them hastily. My mind is completely set on what I will do to fix this little situation. Jake has spent the past couple of months fixing my emotional issues for me, and I am sure as hell going to do it to him in true grand Carrero style. Never take no for an answer; don't back down when what you want shows resistance. I'm going to earn my future surname.
Turning to the middle of the room, I march forward and immediately start taking off all my clothes in a confident non-caring manner. Completely unbashful and not giving an actual fuck that the door is still open. I watch him stand a little taller, raising an eyebrow as he watches me.
"You have thirty seconds to get in here, shut that door, and get naked or this." I hold up my hand with the engagement ring on. "Gets posted to you from Queens when I dump your ass. No fiancée of mine will let guilt destroy our relationship … I'm no fucking nun, and if you want a celibate girlfriend, it won't be me!" I snap and throw one of my shoes off, letting it fly across the room at the wall beside him aggressively. It hits it with a thud, sliding down the wall, and I wonder for a moment if this is what Leila did too.
Jake watches the descent of the shoe silently before turning his eyes back to me. There's a look of humor and a tiny upward crease to the corner of his mouth as though a smile is not far behind, yet he's frowning.
He still hasn't uttered a word. He moves in wordlessly and shuts the door carefully and deliberately, looking very much like a guy contemplating running away from his crazy girlfriend or fiancée or whatever. With furious intent, I continue pulling off every item of clothing I have on and throw each item at the wall by his feet very pointedly, each time with a raised eyebrow.
"Well?" I stand naked and face him with my hands on my hips. Completely unashamed at being nude with a guy who can't seem to get over his emotional impotence. Jake runs a hand through his hair nervously and takes a deep breath. All hint of humor is gone, and he seems torn and scared, yet little hints of lust are in there. The darkening of his eyes and the way he can't stop trailing up and down my naked body with them. He stands staring at me as I am in front of him, completely stark naked for the first time in God knows how long.
"I fucking love you." He stalks toward me and pushes me backward at speed, walking me the full distance of the room with eyes locked on mine. His green depths growing more lust fueled with every step. His expression changing from dubious and scared to dominating and sure. As my back hits the wall, Jake bends into me and lifts me around his waist, pushing against me and grinding into me as his mouth meets mine. He slides his tongue into my mouth, and I can already feel the difference in his kiss, a hint of old passion and burning desire switching on his more aggressive Carrero Casanova mode.
Thank the stars … Finally!
"I said naked, Carrero." I push his face away so that I can give him my best haughtiest glare. He smirks and lets me loose from the wall, sliding me down to my feet and stepping back. His sweater is off in one easy movement over his head, making him strain every one of his delicious muscles. My body is heating up in readiness as I watch him. I can't tear my eyes off that magnificent frame.
He looks down and unbuttons his jeans easily, sliding them and his boxers down in one go as he quickly pulls his trainers off, discarding them all in a heap. There is no hesitation in his glorious face anymore, just the look of the guy who carried me into his room the first night he ever took me as his. He wants and needs me, and nothing will stop him. My heart soars that I finally have all of him back.
Within moments he's completely naked, and I can't stop my eyes from wandering over that hunky body, hungrily devouring every inch he's kept from me, my eyes almost glued to the part of him that will bring me the most pleasure.
"Looking at me like that definitely helps." His hoarse husky tone sounds exactly like the Jake I need, and he grabs my hand, yanking me toward him forcefully. He catches me behind my neck and the small of my back and flips me onto the plush carpet in one fast stroke, making me catch my breath. I squeal in delight at the obvious return of his manhandling at its finest, the grand return of Carrero. He maneuvers on top of me with a firm stroke between us, along my abdomen and thigh.
"No hands," I murmur breathlessly, "I'm too close, and I just want you." I lock eyes with his and suddenly catch the flicker of doubt across his face. His focus moves across my body between us as his brain starts to take over. "Look right here at me." I urge him. His eyes come back to my face. "Look at me, Jake, don't stop looking at how much I love you and how much I need you in this way. I forgave you and need you to forgive yourself too if this will ever work." I silently plead, hoping my expression translates all that he needs to see.
He gazes at me with the slow change of his eyes, from darkest green to pale, as every doubt and thought consumes him. I push my head up and kiss him slowly and gently to stop the onslaught. He opens his mouth enough so I can slide my tongue in, and he follows me back down to the floor so that I can lie my head back. His touch raises the heat inside me once more to a soaring temperature effortlessly, and I start to let my hands roam him sexily. My kiss devours him how he always consumes me, and he starts to respond. His body hardens against mine as his hands move down over my exposed breasts.
I slide a hand between us and find him, urging him with strokes and caresses as he groans into my mouth, and I know I'm winning. I'm pushing away his doubts and indecisiveness, bringing him back to me again. I slide my legs apart so he comes to nestle between them and wrap my thighs around his hips suggestively, securely, so he has no way to escape from me. Our bodies naturally start to move against one another. He breathes in heavily and breaks from my kiss.
"I don't want to hurt the baby." He murmurs against my mouth, and I shake my head.
"There's more chance of you hurting me by not doing this. The doctor told you that this is perfectly fine and even healthy for us to have sex." I soothe and stare straight into his eyes lovingly, open trust all over my face.
He takes another deep breath, locking his focus fully onto my face, roaming over my eyes, nose, and mouth slowly as though imprinting it to memory.
"You're so beautiful, Emma. I don't know what I did to deserve perfection like you," he croons softly, staring at me without fully connecting our bodies yet.
"You have no idea how often I tell myself the same thing about you. You rescued me from myself, Jake. I owe you everything. I belong with you. I belong to you, and I always will. Stop fighting yourself and show me how much you love me instead of telling me. I need to feel it again because I miss it so much more than you can ever imagine." I kiss him, feeling the change in him as his body relaxes into me. His hands find my wrists, sliding them above my head and pinning them to the soft floor, a move that only my sexually competent man would make without thinking about it.
Yes, come back to me, Jake. I need you. The real you.
His body moves slowly against mine. That furious arousal in me heightens and hitches. He devours my mouth and then my neck and back again. His tongue caresses mine, helping me get lost in pleasure as his body slowly slides with mine. I wriggle a hand free and once again find him hard and ready. I maneuver myself and use my grip on him to find our way together, lifting my hips, sliding him into me very slowly, pensively, waiting for him to halt all of this and hold my breath. He tenses and pauses as his kiss stops for a mere second.
Stay with me, Jake, don't give up on us, please.