MisTaken (Miss Match #1.5) (9 page)

“I want you to make me come. Please.” It was easier to say than she’d imagined it would be. And saying it was liberating, even sexy. She wanted to say it again, so she did. “Make me come, Noah.”

He did then. With his mouth and his fingers, he sent her spiraling into an earth-shattering orgasm. She clutched on to the sheets underneath her as her legs shook and her hips bucked up and she lost herself in her climax.

Noah was still licking at her when she began her descent from the heights he’d sent her to. She started to sit up. “It’s my turn.” She thought about it a second. “Or your turn.” However it was to be phrased, she meant to have her mouth on him. Now.

Noah, however, had other plans. He shot his hand up to her chest and pressed her back to the bed. “I dictate the turns. Not you.” He settled a thumb on her sensitive clit, circling on it with expert pressure.

“But—” Not only did she believe in reciprocation—equal rights and all—but Jaylene was certain she couldn’t take any more of the attention he was giving her. She needed—well, she thought she needed a break, but he wasn’t about to give her even that small relief.

“Can you not follow the rules?” He raised a challenging brow, but didn’t let up on his assault.

Jay writhed. It was too much. Sensory overload. But as tortured as she was in the moment, she didn’t want her answer to be no. More, she didn’t want to have to answer anything at all. She simply wanted to let go and let someone else decide for once. So she didn’t say anything. And she didn’t stop him. Instead, she threw her head back and let Noah decide. He chose for her to receive pleasure. The next orgasm crashed through her stronger than the first one, sending her entire body into spasms that took her prisoner and sent her soaring all at once.

She was still flying while Noah stood and scrambled out of his briefs. Then he was slipping a condom on and then he was sliding into her. They moaned together as he pulled out to the tip, then pushed in again. Out and in like that in slow, languid strokes that made her insane. She wanted him to increase his speed, to drive into her with the frenzy that she felt building up in her again. Already.

She tilted into him, urging him to go faster.

“Keep that up and I’ll just go slower.” His face was strained, and she realized the effort it took for him to hold back.

“Noah…?” If it was what they both wanted, why was he trying so hard to bridle himself? She wanted more of him, wanted him to feel what she was feeling.

“Just…” He pressed his forehead against hers and squeezed his eyes shut. “Trust me. Okay?”

He’d asked again and again with his actions and his words and, though she kept saying that she did trust him, she still continued to fight. There was a lesson to be learned here. Why was it so hard for her to set her teacher mentality aside and become the student? So far, Noah’s dominance had only heightened the experience. When she let go, he took her to places she hadn’t known she could go. So she took another deep breath in and when she let it out, she let it all out—the doubts, the fears, the misgivings.

And she let herself really trust him.

“Okay.”

He kissed her then, stroking into her mouth with his tongue in the same lazy tempo he thrust into her pliant body with his cock. They danced like that—leisurely, deliberately. Each step of their tango took her one step closer to another orgasm, the tension creeping in so quietly, the anticipation building so gradually that when she was finally at the brink, she was desperate for release.

Noah read her body well, seeming to sense when she was there. “Touch me,” he demanded.

Her hands flew to him, sweeping up the planes of his taut chest with her palms, down the hard muscles of his back with her fingertips. Then, just when she thought she couldn’t take the delay any longer, he told her to hold on. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he sped up, finally pounding into her with the pressure and the pace she’d longed for. It tipped her over the precipice. Starbursts shot across her vision and her entire body stiffened, her climax overtaking her while Noah drove into her. It was the most incredible orgasm she’d ever experienced, pulsing through her with incredible force, stealing her breath from her entirely.

She was so taken away, that she barely noticed when Noah grunted and reached his own climax. Next thing she knew, in fact, she was wrapped up in his arms, his hand caressing her cheek as her heartbeat returned to normal.

“You’re back,” he said as her eyes found his.

But he was wrong. She wasn’t back. At least, she wasn’t back to who she’d been before. In the course of, well, intercourse, everything in her nature had been questioned and thrown into upheaval. Now she didn’t know how to reconcile this new self with her old self. More to the point, was it even possible?

CHAPTER 6

In a situation like this, there was only one thing to do. Jaylene took to the Internet. Were there other girls like her out there? Was there some kind of meeting she could attend, Girls on Top Who Accidentally Ended Up on Bottom and Liked It? Or. Something like that. Doms and the Feminists Who Shamefully Banged Them.

Nothing was coming up on those searches. At least, nothing that didn’t come with an adult content warning. Damn it! Why was she still tempted to look? Noah was ruining her. Had ruined her. This was the worst. No, the worst was her complacency.

Why was she so delighted by her own downfall? She was going to have to stop wearing her “Eve Was Framed” shirt. It was becoming more and more obvious just how tempting temptation could be. And forget original sin. It was original guilt that was going to kick her out of her happy little Eden.

It had to end. It just had to. It also had to stop playing on an infinite loop inside her head. And she definitely, definitely had to stop getting hot and bothered all over again thinking about it. It was just that thinking it should end made a lot more sense before she’d gone and enjoyed the hell out of her multiple orgasms.

She finally found a sub-Reddit devoted to feminist porn and dove in. Commenters were divided as to what the definition of feminist porn actually was. Some believed it had to be by women and for women to negate all exploitation. Some merely thought that women being in charge of their own sexuality was feminist enough. In fact, a couple of those users identified themselves as being in the porn business.

Jay sat back and thought. If porn stars, women who actually performed sex acts on camera for money, could still self-identify as feminists in charge of their own sexuality, then was she really going to deny herself?

Frustrated, she slammed her computer shut again.

Why didn’t anyone else seem to be having this kind of a problem? It was a significant amount of the female population that now considered themselves to be feminists, according to studies on her favorite Web sites. Judging from the success of those hideous books she had argued about with Noah, the populations had to overlap, at least marginally. So were the women buying those books just so lackadaisical about the movement? Or was there something she was missing, some secret clause in the Femme Code?

She wondered if she could discreetly suggest this as a special topic at the next T.E.N meeting. But how to go about that without identifying herself as the guilty party? Perhaps she could pretend it was a question for a friend. Perhaps she could blackmail Lacy into doing the asking.

She didn’t have any dirt on Lacy, though, and she’d still have to admit what she’d done. Jay wandered over to the window and stared out at the busy street below. Life had been so much simpler last week. How did this view stay the same when everything else was now slippery and uncertain?

Well, that was dumb. She mentally chastised herself for adding to the heap of overused clichés. If she’d read that in a student’s paper, she’d have marked them down for unoriginality. Heaving a sigh, she wondered idly if there was any recently poached food in the house. Then she wondered if her feminism wasn’t hindering her by refusing to learn to cook. Then she decided she didn’t care. As she turned away to go stare at the contents of her fridge, something caught her eye outside.

Noah.

Noah being flagged down by a well-heeled older blonde outside her brownstone. She must be lost. Oh, how nice. Probably he was going to give some messed-up directions to the poor woman and confuse her even more than she already was.

But that wasn’t happening at all, because her hair was flipping and she was definitely flirting when she put that hand on his shoulder, and he was smiling back, and oh, my God, does he have a cougar girlfriend? She jumped back from the window, heart pounding.

That lasted almost two and a half full seconds before her face was mashed against the cool glass again. The blonde was slipping something out of her purse and looking around. Noah was steering her toward the corner of the building. Away from prying eyes. Well, hah! Jay’s bedroom window looked out upon just that corner.

She bolted for her room. Unfortunately, she had failed to account for a kitchen chair in her frantic trajectory. Precious seconds were wasted untangling herself from the floor and the chair while cursing loudly and praying nothing was broken.

By the time she got to the bedroom window, the blonde was retreating. Damn! She’d missed the whole—whatever that was. Then the woman turned around, still tucking something into her obviously expensive handbag and blew Noah a kiss. As Jay’s jaw dropped, he blew one in return.

What. The. Hell. She considered the options as she watched Noah meander off toward his building through narrowed eyes. An exchange of some kind had clearly taken place. Not just an exchange of numbers—that could have been accomplished on the street. No, this was clandestine. Something not meant for others to see.

Just like so many things had been happening in the neighborhood. Just like the stories splashed on all the papers. The thing that surely could not be true about gorgeous, intelligent, complicated Noah. He couldn’t really be a drug dealer, could he? But what else? And who said drug dealers couldn’t be gorgeous, intelligent, and complicated? Actually, they were probably all pretty fucking complicated.

Maybe he was just doing it to pay off his student loans. Maybe he was paying off a gambling debt. Perhaps it was blackmail. Or maybe it was the family business, something he longed to escape but didn’t know how.

Or maybe … maybe she was losing her mind. Maybe it was completely innocent. Maybe she needed to actually go over and ask him about it, instead of jumping to crazy conclusions. She was no Blake Donovan. The more seconds that ticked away from what she had thought she had seen, the more ridiculous her assumptions seemed to her. She congratulated herself on growing as a person, instead of going off half-cocked.

Except that she had already let the idea of going over to ask him take seed. And then she had thought of going off half-cocked, which reminded her of something Noah certainly never did. And then next thing she knew, she was in her bathroom, making sure her tussle with the chair had left no visible bruises and doing a quick swish with some mouthwash before reapplying her lipstick.

And then she was at his door. And then he opened it all shirtless and sexy, and then he smiled, and then all her rational thoughts left with a whoosh and all she could think was, “And then?”

*   *   *

Noah was never going to get any work done ever again. He was also never going to complain, because the thought of never seeing Jaylene again after their night together was far more upsetting to him. And he
had
worried about that—that after the post-orgasmic glow wore off, she’d be a little less enamored with the idea of being dominated by a man.

But here she was. And even though it had really only been half a day since their last encounter, he was suddenly as desperate for her touch as the night they first kissed. He crooked a finger at her with a smile, so she’d understand that although it was an order, it was a sexy order. From the wicked grin he received in return as she stepped through the threshold, though, it seemed the order was well-received.

She cocked a brow as if to say, “And then?” He took a step back, and then another, beckoning her forward and into his lair. Living room. He meant living room. They stopped, staring, still silent. He moved his finger again. Closer. Closer. And then when she was close enough, he indicated she should kneel.

He was already rock hard as she dropped obediently to her knees. Her hands began to stray toward his belt before she remembered to ask his permission. He nodded his approval, eyes never straying from hers as she expertly unbuckled his belt and pulled it off slowly, loop by loop, with one hand as the other worked its way up his thigh. God, she looked good down there. Although, he’d been told he looked good like that, too. By her. The night before. The memory of giving her everything she needed until she screamed his name made his cock pulse in anticipation.

She noticed. And slowed down her undoing of his pants even further. He wanted to reprimand her, but turnabout was fair play, he thought. It was basically the same thing he’d done to her. That subversive little feminist. She was beating him at his own game, letting him “be in charge” while running the show. It made him laugh.

Well, it would have, had her fingers not freed his member and then delicately stroked the length of it, lingering and teasing around the head. Then all he could do was gasp.

“Is this okay? Is it okay if I touch you?” she murmured, so close he could feel her soft breath on the most sensitive part of him.

“I want you to touch yourself, too,” he ordered. Her eyes widened. He wasn’t going to let her be all the way in charge, after all. But she knew better than to argue by now, and her eyes widened again as she reached a tentative hand beneath her jean skirt. “Good girl,” he breathed, so soft he didn’t know if she heard. Probably for the best if she hadn’t.

Then her tongue was on him, and he was past the point of caring what she heard, because he wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying. She licked him up and down, alternating the pressure between the hard flat of her tongue and the light flicking tip.