CHAPTER 33 JACKSON #3
She’s so warm against me. Bare breasts, bare hips, bare legs. Wild hair, tumbling down her bare back. Her naked body, curled on top of my fully clothed one. I groan and bite at her skin. Sink my mouth against her collarbone and whisper out a quiet, Fuck, Delilah.
She rocks her body against mine and I palm the length of her thigh.
“This is how I want it to be with us,” I murmur, panting open-mouthed against the hollow of her throat as her hands reach between us, tracing the open fly of my jeans.
I’m so hard I’m dizzy. Just the scrape of her fingernail is probably enough to set me off.
“Don’t settle. Ask for what you need. Let me give it to you. ”
“Don’t let you off easy.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
She sinks her hand down into my waistband and curls her fingers around me, pushing my jeans over my hips.
“Then give me this,” she whispers, so sweet and breathy it makes me ache. “I think I need you, Jackson.”
I think I need you too, I almost whisper back.
Instead, I groan. A rough, broken sound.
She’s rolling her hand against me, and I can barely think, my entire body vibrating.
I tuck my forehead to hers and look between us, watching the way her hand works at me.
She shifts her body and presses my bare cock against her, right where I’ve made her warm and wet.
She rolls her hips in tight little circles, grinding against me.
My fingers bite into her hips. “Delilah.”
A laugh catches in her throat. “Please tell me you have a condom in your wallet.”
“I do, but—” I wet my lips. I’m having trouble stringing sentences together. I came here because I missed her. Not because I expected this. “I don’t want you to think I do this sort of thing, Delilah.”
“Hush,” she whispers. “I know who you are.”
She’s still moving her hips. Getting me wet.
Making everything smooth and easy. My cock nudges at her clit with every roll of her body, and her head drops back, the ends of her hair brushing over my still-clothed thighs.
“Like this, okay? Just for a second. Then I’ll let you get that condom.
But I’m—” A deep, satisfied sound rolls out of her.
“I’m always careful and I’m protected. You can have me like this, if you want. ”
I almost laugh. If I want. I squeeze her hips so hard I bet she’ll have fingertip-sized bruises tomorrow. Ten perfect presses of blue and purple. The shape of my need for her.
“Me too,” I grunt. The rest of my explanation eludes me. “I’ve never missed a physical.”
She laughs into the corner of my mouth. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Health is important.” I nip at her bottom lip and smile. “You sure?” I whisper.
She nods, fingers curling in my hair. “Very much so.”
I black out, a little bit, at that. Gray creeping into the corners of my vision while the desire fists so tight my lungs burn.
I urge her off my lap and pull off my clothes, chest heaving, hands shaking.
I reach for my wallet, fingers fumbling with the packet, then tearing.
Delilah helps, which is no help at all, and then it’s my bare skin against hers, my hands smoothing over her hips and turning her until her spine is pressed tight to my chest, my arm hooked around her middle.
“Sit back,” I tell her quietly. “Like this.” I gently press her legs wide, hooking her thighs over my knees.
I angle my cock against her as she reaches down, lightly tracing the length of me.
A few tight strokes and then hot, blunt pressure as she eases back.
Delilah works herself over me slowly, taking me bit by bit.
Her breath hitches about halfway. It’s the most excruciating pleasure of my life. “I don’t think I can—”
I bare my teeth against the back of her shoulder, my sanity in pieces somewhere on the floor. “You can,” I rasp. I drift my hand down over her belly and swipe my fingers across her clit, trying to ease my way. She whines and I exhale a sharp sound. “That’s it. You’re perfect. A little more.”
She angles her body forward and takes the rest of me with sweet little rocks of her hips, her body shivering once I’m all the way inside her. She wiggles and groans and sighs and makes a thousand other tiny, bitten-off sounds that I want to sink my teeth into.
I hook my chin over her shoulder and stare down the length of her body.
I can’t make out much, but what I can see makes me groan, my hips rocking under hers.
The pink-tipped swell of her breasts as they bounce in time with each smooth roll of my body.
My arm, a pale band across her middle as I hold her tight.
All blurry smudges of an indecent picture.
I wish I hadn’t thrown my glasses across the room when I put my mouth on her.
“Did you think about this?” I rumble below her ear. “In that hotel room?”
“Yes,” she breathes, chasing my hips, grinding down harder. Her hands plant on my thighs, working herself against me, her nails digging half-moons into my skin.
She laughs, breathless. “I thought it might be like this,” she says. Her hand finds mine and she tangles our fingers together. “That I would tell you what I want and you would take what you need. That I’d be so, so good to you, Jackson.”
I clench my teeth around a moan, then tighten my arm around her waist. I shift forward, kicking at the coffee table, pressing us down on the floor. I’ve never been like this before. Rough. Demanding. Taking instead of asking. Completely out of control.
“Put your hands—yeah, like that.” Delilah grips the edge of the coffee table and I roll back into her. She hiccups a sound that settles like a boulder at the base of my spine. “Fuck,” I breathe. “No.”
Delilah tosses her head back, looking at me over her shoulder. “No?”
I shake my head. “Want to see you.”
She laughs as I pull out of her and roll her over, letting me arrange her body against the carpet.
I grab a random pillow and shove it under her hips, then press back inside.
The way is easier now. She’s soft and warm and so, so wet.
She stretches her arms above her head and yeah. This is better. This is what I needed.
All of Delilah. Right in front of me.
I slide my palm down her thigh while my hips work and press my thumb between her legs. I draw sloppy circles and her breath hitches.
“Jackson,” she breathes, and her body tightens around mine. Her knees ease wider and she says my name again, a sharp whisper that pinches and prods. “You’re going to make me come.”
“Good.”
Her orgasm steals her breath and then it steals mine.
More heat, more wet, and that’s it. I’m gone.
I grip her hips and work myself against her, lightning rocketing down my spine, pulsing through my body in time with her small panting breaths.
I come with a deep groan as I collapse against her on the floor, my forehead against her shoulder, my body trembling.
It lasts a long time—the loud panting of my breathing and the tremors that shake free of Delilah’s body.
I let myself sink further against her and brush soft, gentle kisses over every inch of skin I can reach.
Her shoulder. The hollow of her throat. The faint impression of my teeth marks on the curve of her breast. She laughs when I hit a ticklish spot and I groan again, rocking my forehead against the space between her breasts.
Her fingers scratch through my hair. Down my neck. Her knuckles bump against the collar of my sweater and a breathless laugh slips out of her.
“Is your sweater still around your neck?” she laughs, sounding dazed.
I hug her body closer to mine, my arms around her middle. “I think so.” I peck a kiss against her shoulder. “I don’t know. I’m not really worried about it.”
She laughs and tries to wiggle out of my hold. I make a low sound of annoyance and grip her tighter. She reaches for something I can’t see, palm patting at the rug beneath us, shifting some of the pillows that tumbled free while I wrestled her to the floor, arm stretching and body twisting and—
“Here,” she says, easing my glasses over my face. Her thumbs rub at the curve of my ears. “Now you can see.”
I look at her smile, so wide her eyes crinkle shut. The tousle of her hair and the pink on her cheeks. My heart gives an unsteady thump, right in the middle of my chest.
I think I know what this feeling is. This ache. This . . . hollow wanting whenever she’s not around.
I think I fell in love with Delilah in the middle of a snowstorm.
My mouth opens, then shuts.
“Yeah.” I swallow hard. “I can see.”