“I see why you didn’t pick the ones with extra lube. You are so fucking drenched, Angel.” I wanted to hear her scream my name as I brought her to orgasm. My concern was that I wouldn’t make it. I would have to take my time with her. If she became skittish, she might run before I was done with her.
I hoped I wouldn't regret what I was about to do next. I hovered above her on my elbows. She stroked my face with her silky soft hands. She found my sensitive spot, the one just behind my ear, that when stroked the right way turned me to putty.
I didn't want her to stop but I had to have this conversation. I placed my hands over hers and brought them to my chest. I met her beautiful crystal blue eyes and stole one more passionate kiss.
“Do you want to set some ground rules?” I wanted to know what her triggers were. I wanted to avoid them.
“Ground rules. Okay, you get me off, I get you off. We fuck our brains out, then say goodnight. Unless you want to go first. I’m okay with that.”
“Angel,” I growled. She was avoiding the subject of last night. If I was smart, I would do the same.
“Don’t make this more than it is, Jackson. Haven’t you ever wanted to get nailed? Haven't you ever wanted someone to knock your socks off? Make your toes curl?”
She found the spot below my ear. My sweet spot. I didn’t know what turned me on more: the way she touched it or that the touch was coming from her.
No one had ever made me feel vulnerable before, asked me what I wanted. I knew she was holding back. Did I do the same, hold just a little something back so I didn’t get burned?
I wasn’t sure I wanted to. The way she stroked my sweet spot, I didn’t think I could.
Chapter 12
Angelic
“Don't make this more than it is, Jackson.” I stared into his piercing blue eyes. “ Haven’t you ever wanted to get nailed? Haven’t you ever wanted someone to knock your sock off? Make your toes curl?”
I claimed his mouth and feathered my fingers behind his ears. It was a light scratch, like you do to your pet. I saw pleasure in his eyes when I did it. It was his sweet spot. I used it to my advantage.
He gave me his answer. One word, “Yes.”
I knew it was shallow of me of make this about nothing more than sex. I wished it could be more. My heart wanted there to be more. Too bad my brain was not cooperating.
Tonight it didn’t have to. I made myself perfectly clear and he understood. Tonight was simply about pleasure, no feelings allowed.
“Do you still want to flip to see who gets on top?” I loved how comfortable this was between us. I bet he was great at sexting.
Before he could answer, we were both stripped naked and he sat on the bed against the headboard and beckoned me to straddle him. “Why can’t we both be on top?” His cheshire cat grin melted my insides.
God, he was perfect. He understood my body’s language and responded without question. We started with a slow kiss. I remembered the softness of his lips as we kissed passionately, completely.
He taste of cigar and Scotch.
“I love the smell of a good cigar. Did you smoke that hoping to seduce me?” I knew there was no logical way he could know that.
“Yes, Aaron told me you loved men who smell like cigars and Scotch.” There was a mischievous look and a wicked smile.
“Aaron?” I was slightly thrown off, then I remembered. “Katie’s boyfriend? What else did Aaron divulge and who was asking?”
“Aaron mentioned to Richard you looked familiar. He mentioned Katie’s brother.”
It was Aaron asking where he knew me from. I wonder what else came up concerning me.
“I know it will distract you, so no, we were not talking about you. Aaron asked a question, Richard answered. That was it.”
He was right about the distraction; with that out of the way, we could both concentrate on how to maneuver on this double bed.
I lost track of time sitting in his lap, running my hand over his body, his perfect abs, and muscular arms. I ran my hand down his chest and felt his erection. I also felt how fucking wet and needy I was.
Jackson was right, I didn’t need extra lube. All I needed was him driving his enormous cock inside me. I knew I was being impatient. I reached for the condoms and he grabbed my hands.
“Tsk, Tsk, impatient, are we?” He brought his mouth to my ears and whispered in a low grunt. “First, I want you to come on my hands, then I want you to come on my face, then I want you come on my cock until you beg me to stop.”
He cradled his hand behind my head to take me in for a kiss.
It wasn’t his fault. I was sure all men asked this. I couldn’t make my brain turn off. He didn’t have time to make contact and I was already off the bed, wrapped in a blanket.
He leaned back against the headboard. Those piercing blue eyes were confused. Not upset, not angry that I pulled away, just confused.
“Do you want to discuss those ground rules now?”
Fuck, he was perfect. He wanted to cover this before we started. He wanted to avoid this. Avoid anything that would trigger me leaving his bed.
“Ok,” I answered without reservation. “I won’t beg, ever.”
“Fair enough.” He put on a wide grin. “I will, if you ask me to. What else?”
He found this amusing. I had only had this intimate a conversation with one other person in my life. It was one of trust and understanding. The only thing missing was the passionate kind of love women dreamt of.
“I’m ok with a little kink, but only if I get to do the tying and blindfolding. Toys are acceptable, no nipple clamps or flogging.”
He had this are you serious look across his face. When I didn’t flinch, he flashed one of those wicked grins. “Can’t say that I’ve ever tried it, but I won’t object. Did you bring toys?”
“I brought my vibrator. A woman should always be able to take care of her own needs.” He might as well be aware I was ready to finish this myself if need be.
“Ok, your turn.” I wanted to keep my poker face. I had no idea what Jackson’s kinks were. With the amount of women he had sex with, I was a little surprised he was not into BDSM.
“My turn, ok, you don’t leave my bed until I’ve made you come three times.”
His face was dead serious, not a hint of kidding. He said he wanted to make me come on his hands, his face, then his cock. That was all he wanted from me.
“Oh, and…”
I knew there was a catch. There was always a catch.
“If I trigger a reaction before I make you come at least three times, we talk, like this, before you bolt. That's it, that’s all I want tonight.”
I stuck my hand out. “Deal.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me back onto his lap and kissed me. It was intimate, not rushed or hurried. He took it slow, like we had all the time in the world. Finally we came up for air.
“That is how you seal a deal.”
He roamed his hand across my body and settled them on my breasts. He fondled and played with them as I made my way down his chest with my lips. I remembered how good he felt last night. I also remembered how good he was with his hands.
He slowly traced his fingers down my cleavage to my belly button. He took the time to tease it with a light pressure of his fingers. It set off a tingling to my toes I have never experienced before.
I imagined how it would feel to have his tongue lave and caress my sensitive navel. God, he felt good. I never wanted to forget the need he filled in me. I moaned my pleasure of his little tease session. He captured the sound, crushing his mouth to mine.
I could hear a slight caveman growl of his own. He enjoyed knowing how much pleasure he brought me. My impatience was growing with each mind-numbing sensation.
I knew he wanted me to appreciate every bit of this experience. Like he knew it will be the last time and he didn't want it to end.
His hands made their way down to the apex of my womanhood. He glided the pads of his rough thumbs across
my clit. When was the last time I let someone in so completely?
Him, last night.
I didn’t want to repeat the mistakes of last night. I wanted him to keep his promise to make me come and not ask me to beg. I wanted him to keep his promise so much it hurt. It was not that I hadn’t ever been fingered or eaten out before. It wasn’t even like I haven’t had an orgasm before.
Something about this experience with Jackson made it different, better. No, not better, surreal and fucking amazing. I knew I tended to overuse the word fuck, yet, that was the only word I had to describe what was happening.
His fingers worked their way into my pussy, stroking, delving deeper with each thrust. He kept my mind occupied with his mouth on my breast. Licking sucking, biting. I realized I was letting him do all the work. Somehow that didn't seem to bother either of us.
The look on his face as he watched me rise to the brink was priceless. He got harder the louder I moaned. The more aroused I became, his cock matched with a mind of its own. I was so close to coming with only his thumb on my clit, his fingers fucking me, his hands on my body.
The heat flooded my core and the blood rushed to my head, then I began to spasm and I could no longer control myself. I found myself screaming his name. It sounded so fucking right falling off my lips.
I wanted to do it again.
“There’s number one.” He teased as he pulled me onto the bed and drug me so that I was on the edge. He took his place between my thighs and gently spread them apart.
“Fuck, I think I am going to explode watching your pussy drenched from your cum.”
He did not give me any reprieve. I had barely come down from the first orgasm and he was licking, biting, fucking me with his tongue. He licked and sucked on my clit. It didn’t take long for me to succumb.
“Oh God, Jackson, that was fucking epic.”
“Is that number two or are we still working on number one?” He growled seductively. “You taste fucking epic, but I need to be inside you. Angel, are you ready?”
“I was ready the minute you stepped through that door.” I wouldn’t lie to him. I might not be able to reveal all my secrets, but I wouldn't lie.
He climbed on to the bed and pulled me on top. “You said something about making my toes curl. I’m waiting.”
He wanted me to take the lead, to take control. He really was fucking perfect.
I placed his hands on my hips. He understood that I wanted him contribute. I teased the tip of his cock by rolling my thumb across its curved head.
“I see I’m not the only one who’s wet.” His precum coated the tip of my thumb.
I leaned down to him and traced my tongue down his neck to his collarbone. I retrieved a condom off the night table, lifted myself up and rolled it over his enormous cock. I straddled him, lining the head of his cock over the entrance of my pussy and took the plunge.
The pulse of my next orgasm was building. There would be no issue with a third. I had no doubt by the time I made Jackson’s toes curl, there would a fourth and fifth.
I began to slowly gyrate my hips, taking my time. I wanted to give my body time to adjust to his size. He was patient. I could see the strain on his beautiful face.
I could also see the desire and lust of what was to come.
I picked up the pace and laid my hands over his. He bucked his hips, driving into me deeper, harder. I continued to guide his hands, letting him know I didn’t want him holding back any longer.
I wanted all of him deep inside me. I wanted him to impale me with his cock.
The sound emanating from both of us resembled wild animals calling for their mate. It seemed fitting; that was how it felt. I had been waiting too long for this unbridled passion of heat and lust.
Our movements synchronized with each thrust, each buck of our hips. I let his hand steady me and I began to gently apply circular pressure to my clit with my own hand.
Jackson’s eyes widened and low grunts of pleasure escaped his throat.
I slowed my movements, I wanted him to come with me this time. I picked up the pace, enticing him to follow suit. He pulled himself into a sitting position, impaling me deeper onto his cock. I gasped and cried his name as I spasmed around him.
He pulled me in for kiss then whispered, “that’s three.”
I barely recovered when I felt his own release. The sensation of him coming filled inside me — I realized the condom broke. I should have been horrified, but instead the thought of him coursing through me sent another shockwave through my body. I screamed his name with a voice I did not recognize.
How was it possible that each time he brought me over, it was more intense, more incredible, just more?
We laid beside each other, regaining focus. He brushed the hair from my neck and nibbled his way down to my collarbone. “Do you still want to flip for the cabin?”
“No,” I laughed, “it makes more sense for me to leave. As the photographer, no one will question why I came in late. I wouldn't be expected to leave until the party was over. It would make sense that you passed out on your way home and ended up here.”
“Are you calling me an alcoholic?” He turned around to take off the condom. “Fuck, it broke.”
He turned to face me. Why did he appear more pleased than upset?
“I know, I felt it when you came. It’s ok, I’m on birth control.” I already knew he was going to question why I needed the morning after pill last night. I answered him before he could ask. My doctor suggested I take extra precaution. Recent changes in medications sometimes decreased the effectiveness of birth control.
“You only brought one precaution because your expectation was we would only be together one night. The wedding night. You hadn’t planned on having unplanned sex in the shower, or having the condom break?”
I shrugged my shoulders and tilted my head. “I hadn’t plan on any extracurricular activities, no.”
He brought me in for hug. “We could both go to the inn together. Who cares if everyone sees us? I sure as hell don’t.” He leaned down and his soft lips caressed the top of my head. “You know I would take care of you if anything happened, right?”
“Don’t worry, Jackson, it was probably overkill anyway.” I wanted to believe that, I had to believe that.
I laid in the crock of his arm and splayed my hand across his chest. He was right, who cared? We were two consenting adults.
It was warm and comfortable in his arms. The slow rhythm of his heart was calming, soothing. I closed my eyes for a few seconds.
There was a warmth and there was a familiar scent. Familiar, yet wrong. I felt warm arms but they were too tight. I was suffocating.
Something was wrong.
Someone was calling me.
Liam.
Only that wasn't what he called me. These were not Liam’s arms, not Liam’s gentle hold.
They were too tight, too constricting.
Where was Liam?
I needed Liam.
“LIAM!”
Chapter 13
Jackson
She stirred in my arms. She was having a nightmare.
I pulled her in close and whispered in her ear. She needed to know I was here for her. I wanted to comfort her. She trusted me enough to fall asleep in my arms. Did that mean she trust me to chase away her demons?
“It’s ok, Angel, I’m here for you.”
“LIAM!”
I stilled and waited, watching for her eyes to refocus. She was paralyzed, her eyes glazed over. It didn’t take long for the recognition to return.
Then the realization of what she did.
One of my arms was trapped to my side with her thigh. My hand was pinned above my head, and her knee pressed into my throat.
I laid still.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She released me and jumped off the bed. Wrapping herself in the quilt on the chair, she searched for her clothes.
“Angelic, come back to bed.” My voice remained calm. She was terrified and gettin
g ready to run.
“Fuck, Jackson, I almost strangled you in your sleep.” She was horrified and frightened.
“We had a deal, no running until we talk.”
“Are you fucking serious?” She sat in the chair beside the bed, shaking. I wanted to go to her and hold her, but now wasn’t the time. She needed to come to me on her own.
“Angelic, if you don’t stop and take a breath, you are going to hyperventilate.” My concern was more for her safety than mine. “Like you said, I’m not as dumb as the tabloids say I am. I recognize the signs of PTSD. I knew if I stayed calm until you woke up, you wouldn’t hurt me. I’m going to come to you, ok?”
A whispered choked “Ok” was all that came out of her mouth.
Her eyes skidded in every direction. She was embarrassed, maybe even ashamed. It was my responsibility to let her know being vulnerable was nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of.
I crossed the bed and made my way to where she was sitting. I wrapped my arms around her and she leaned into me. I guided her to the bed and helped her under the covers and climbed in facing her.
Brushing the hair from her forehead, I leaned in and kissed her.
“You don’t have to talk. I want you to know you can trust me. I want to help you. Let me help you.” I didn’t ask the question that was killing me. Now wasn’t the time.
She scratched my sweet spot. A vibration from the low growl escaped, proof of the pleasure it provided. I should be comforting her, not the other way around. I didn’t want her regretting falling asleep in my arms.
“I’m not sure where to start.” The crack in her voice broke my fucking heart.
“Is this about your claustrophobia?” I figured that was a good a place as any for her to begin.
She smiled weakly at me. “Mostly. It goes a little a deeper.”
“You told me you won’t beg, can you tell me why?”
She snuggled into my chest, her breathing long and deep. “Don’t let me fall asleep.”
Her pleas were almost a sob. It took everything she had to ask that of me.
Womanizer Heir (The Heirs Book 4) Page 7
