She had no one to blame but herself. . .

As a Cassadine, Sabrina marveled, she should’ve have known better than to ignore the first and most important rule of engagement. Pay close attention to what is not said as opposed to what is. Had she applied that basic tenet she would not have found herself in the current state she now so helplessly albeit pleasurably endured.

“You have my word, Babe, I am not going to spend all night undressing you. . .”

In retrospect, she realized, Jack remained true to his word. Once in the suite’s bedroom, he had swiftly yet skillfully divested Sabrina of her skintight sheath with a vigor that was so contagious the beautiful doctor had practically scrambled atop the bed, eagerly reclining her nude form amid the pillows yet somehow managing to gracefully part her supple thighs in loving invitation to him.

She looked on in breathless anticipation as Jack—feral smile full of cruel promise, his gaze never wavering—reached back and drew his t-shirt over his head; an act both were fully aware never failed to elicit a visceral reaction from the tawny temptress. Jack made no attempt to stifle his throaty chuckle in response to the gasp that fell from a now insanely aroused Sabrina’s lips when he tossed the cotton fabric aside. The gasp became a moan as he knelt on the bed and in an act reminiscent of a majestic jungle cat crawled towards her. When they were finally face to face – his body hovering tauntingly above hers, Jack supporting his weight by bracing his arms on either side of her – with an agonizingly deliberate precision, he lowered his body atop hers and claimed her lips for a stirring kiss. Sabrina in turn indulgently wrapped her legs about his waist as she reveled in the contrasting sensations of his bare chest crushed against her breasts even as his denim-clad hips lazily ground against hers.

The entire time, drawing her stunned, feebly protesting form towards him.

And it was at that moment, as his vow from earlier in the evening came back to her, comprehension of exactly what lay in store for her began to dawn.

“You have my word, Babe, I am not going to spend all night undressing you…”

Oh, yes. She had no one to blame but herself…

Jack had no sense of time. He had long since lost track of how long he had been between Sabrina’s thighs. Not that it mattered. His sole intent, much as it was every time as of late when they were together, was to relish the act of pleasing her. Over the course of his ministrations his adoration varied; between a slow, teasing laving of the flesh-covered pearl, and enveloping it within the warmth of his mouth, tenderly sucking the incredibly sensitive bundle of nerves. He was in no hurry. Absolutely none. This act, loving her, was as vital to him as food or water. And he was feasting.

Like a fucking king.

The entire time, the ephemeral sensation of surrender and release tickled the periphery of her consciousness—even as her lightly spasming form gracefully contorted in an attempt to evade the marvelous torture being rendered by her lover’s mouth. Raising her hips from the bed was not an option; Jack’s strong hands splayed low across her abdomen effectively pinned her in place. Briefly, she was able to lever her body up to gaze down at Jack and watch him adoring her.

But only briefly.

It was as if the pure sexuality of the moment was too intense for her to bear witness to. In many ways, she noted, it felt as if the act was almost brand new between them. Which was strange to Sabrina, as Jack going down on her was not a novelty; far more times than she could count in their past the act had taken place. Yet there was no denying the encounters that took place between them since her submission were fueled by what could only be described as a renewed sense of freedom...for Jack.

Not quite a man possessed, Sabrina could in no way deny Jack was indeed a determined man as he proceeded to play her body with a maestro’s precision. She had ceased to plead for mercy of any sort. The best she could hope for was exhaustion. On his part. But as her thighs began to tremble once again, her hips sinuously swerving in response to the demands of his wonderfully skilled tongue’s actions, Sabrina accepted the inevitable; that all she could do was collapse back onto the bed and submit to the knowledge such a thing would not be.

Not for some time this night.