The Lake House Had One Bed Left for Our Parents' Wedding Week, So I Shared It With My Soon-to-Be Stepbrother novel · Chapter 12 of 24

Chapter 12: Hold On

"Keep your hands on the rails," said Jack. "Don't let go."

I lay on my back in the one bed, naked, with my arms stretched over my head and both fists wrapped around the white iron spindles of the headboard.

The paint was chipped and cool under my palms.

The window stood open to the lake, a box fan turned in the corner.

The whole house was empty and dark below us, because the party in the tent had another hour of life in it.

We had stormed out of it in a perfect fake rage.

I had slammed the screen door hard enough to rattle the pans.

Now Jack knelt between my legs, shirtless, with a lamp turned low behind him.

"I'm not tying you," he said. "This is your choice. You can let go anytime you want."

"I know."

"Do you want to let go?"

"No."

"Good."

He ran his palms slowly down my arms, over my shoulders, and down the sides of my breasts to my hips.

"I want to take my time with you," he said. "All of it. I've been in a hurry since Monday, and I'm tired of being in a hurry."

He kissed my mouth.

He kissed my neck, and the hollow under my ear.

The point of my shoulder, and I felt each one in my belly.

He kissed down my breastbone, and took my nipple in his mouth, and circled it with his tongue, slowly, until I twisted against the spindles and made a sound.

"There it is," he said. "I love that one."

He moved to the other side.

He took his time there too.

By the time he looked up, I was breathing hard, and my knuckles ached.

"Look at you," he said quietly. "You're holding on so tight. Your arms are shaking."

"Because you're slow."

"I'm being thorough."

"Jack."

"Say please."

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Touch me."

"Where?"

"Between my legs."

He laid one hand flat on my stomach and slid his other hand between my thighs and touched me, one finger, light, through my wetness.

I gasped.

"Oh, that's lovely," he said. "That's so lovely. You're dripping, Kate. Do you know how wet you are? You've soaked the sheet."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true. It's the best thing I've ever seen."

He circled my clit with the pad of his finger, round and round, so softly that it nearly wasn't there.

I lifted my hips to chase it.

"Hold still."

"I can't."

"You can. You're doing so well. Just hold still and let me look at you."

I held still.

It was agony.

His finger slid down and pushed inside, and then a second.

He moved them in a slow stretching rhythm while his thumb found my clit and rubbed it.

"There," he said. "That's it. Your whole body is asking me for it. Your thighs are shaking. Your stomach's pulling in. And your face, Kate. God, your face."

"Don't stop."

"I'm not going to stop."

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