16. Jackson
16
JACKSON
I ’ve never wanted a woman as much as I do this one. I can’t keep my hands off her. Every curve, every delicious inch of skin calls to me.
We tumble along the bookshelves, and onto the leather sofa that sits against the bay window overlooking the grounds. My hand comes up to cup the back of her neck, so that I can continue kissing her without her pulling away.
My other hand gropes her breast roughly over her clothes. Each touch ellicits a moan of desire from her lips that courses straight through me. My dick is harder than a rock and more than anything I want to sink inside of her and fuck her.
I lower my hands to her jeans that I unbutton swiftly. The denim is cold, providing a stark contrast to the warmth of her body seeping through. My fingers trace along the waistband of her underwear before tugging gently at it, teasing her; the anticipation building and mingling with our shared desire.
Her breath hitches, a tremor rippling through her as my fingers slide beneath the fabric, cupping her. I can feel the heat of her arousal and it sends jolts of thrilling need coursing through my veins. She is wet, ready for me and I can barely contain myself. I growl lightly in response to the intense sensations flooding through me.
My kisses deepen, growing more frantic as my fingers leisurely stroke her, each gentle touch striking sparks of pleasure within her. Her back arches against my palm as a soft sigh escapes her parted lips, sending shivers down my spine.
And then I stop. Just to tease her some more.
Her breath remains hitched, eyes fluttering open, bright with anticipation and a bit of confusion. My gaze locks with hers and there's an indescribable rush witnessing her so exposed, so vulnerable under my touch yet brimming with a desire that mirrors mine.
I chuckle lowly at her bewildered expression. "Patience," I whisper against her lips. But deep inside I know, patience is the last thing on either of our minds right now.
Without breaking eye contact, I let my hand wander back up, tracing the path it came from in agonizing slowness. My fingertips graze along the bare skin of her stomach leaving goosebumps in its wake before cupping her breast again.
I pinch her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra, feeling it harden instantly under my touch. She gasps, a heady sound that rouses the primal beast within me to lay claim to what is mine.
I chuckle darkly, the sound rumbling deep in my chest before I lean down to take the hardened peak into my mouth, tasting her through the lace. The taste of her skin, so sweet and inviting, sends jolts of desire crashing within me.
Her hand comes up to tangle in my hair, holding me close as I repeat the action on her other breast. Her body writhes beneath me in response to the dual assault, and I can't help but marvel at how stunning she looks.
After lavishing attention on both breasts, I straighten up. Her breath hitches in anticipation as I tug off her jeans, sliding them down her slender thighs and tossing them aside.
The sight of her half-naked on my couch, her body glowing in the soft twilight seeping in from the bay window is breathtaking. It's a moment imprinted forever in my mind, stirring up emotions I've never felt before with such intensity.
Almost reverently, I trace a path from her ankle upward, watching as goosebumps erupt against my touch. My fingers follow the curve of her hip before dipping controversially between her thighs where she is warm and wet for me.
She gasps out loud as I graze her sensitively, teasing her expertly. Her legs instinctively start to part, a silent plea for more. I can feel her trembling beneath me, can almost hear the unspoken desires coursing through her veins.
"Jackson," she whispers, her voice barely audible but enough to set my blood on fire.
My name falling from her lips in that husky tone sounds like the sweetest symphony to my ears, encouraging me to explore further. I look up at her, our eyes locking once again, and there's an unsaid promise in them—a promise of pure, unabashed pleasure.
With a devilish smirk playing on my lips, I lean down closer to her ear.
"Say it again," I order quietly.
She bites her lip before repeating my name. The sound of it drives me wild, stoking the flames of desire within me.
Gently but firmly, I slide my finger deeper into her warmth and she gasps out loud, arching her back off the couch. A moan escapes from between her parted lips as I begin to move rhythmically against her sensitive folds.
Her fingers grip into the cushions beneath us as she gives herself over to the sensations washing over her. Her breath comes in choppy gasps, each one punctuated with my name as she rides the waves of pleasure. Her body starts tensing as the climax builds within her, ready to shatter any moment now.
Just as she is about to tumble over the edge, I stop once again.
Desire flashes through her eyes as she whimpers in frustration but doesn't dare voice out her disappointment.
"Patience, darling," I murmur against her ear, my voice deep and raspy, matching the raw hunger coursing through me.
My wicked teasing earns a frustrated groan from her as she squirms beneath me, chasing the pleasure that's evading her.
I leave her abandoned for a moment, drawing back to admire the tantalizing picture she paints spread out on my couch. Her chest rises and falls with each heavy breath she takes, the sight stoking the already blazing fire within me.
Slowly, I slide my hand back up her silky thigh, tracing patterns on her heated skin. Her hips buck up in response as she chases my touch. I shake my head at her impatience and press a soft kiss on her trembling lips.
"Darling," I tease again, my voice barely audible over the sound of our ragged breaths mingling together, "you need to learn patience."
Her dilated eyes meet mine as I descend upon her once more without warning. This time, I go slower — painstakingly driving her crazy as I push deeper into her warmth. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, nails digging into my skin as she tries to pull herself closer to me.
She releases a strangled cry when I pull away yet again just as she nears the climax. The denial earns me another frustrated groan from her as she writhes beneath me — her delayed satisfaction driving her wild.
Her sweat slicked body moves rhythmically against mine, seeking release that is just within reach yet seems so far away. The tortured moans escaping from between her parted lips are an aphrodisiac to my senses, filling me with a lustful desire to continue the delicious torture.
Her body begs silently for relief. Her chest arches upward with need, her fingers clutching at the fabric of my shirt as though it offers a lifeline — a pathway to the release she so desperately craves.
My hand traces down her body once more, relishing in every quivering twitch and sharp intake of breath that I orchestrate. A moan ripples through the room as I slowly tease her folds again, taking my own sweet time to explore. Each touch is deliberate. Each stroke is calculated to drive her into oblivion.
Her breathing becomes erratic, her moans turning into throaty cries. But despite her desperation, I refuse to give in just yet.
"Patience," I whisper yet again, promising with a soft press of my lips against her trembling ones that the wait will be worth it.
With a deft twist of my fingers, I plunge deeper into her wetness, igniting a strangled gasp from her lips. My name tumbles from them like a hushed prayer; it’s music to my ears, spurring me on. This sweet torment was intoxicating — watching the way she writhed beneath me was a sight that would forever be burned into my memory.
Then, seeing the pleading look in her eyes, mirroring the fire burning within my own gaze, I finally relent. Slowly and purposefully, I start to move my fingers within her again with a newfound intensity. Her guttural cry echoes around us as waves of pleasure surge through her body, breaking over her like a storm.
“Let go," I whisper hoarsely against her ear, my own body thrumming with anticipation.
Her eyes flutter close as she trembles beneath me, barely hanging onto the precipice of pleasure. With a final, deliberate stroke of my fingers, I push her over the edge.
Her body tenses as she gasps out loud, riding the waves of pleasure that crash through her. It's an intoxicating sight—her eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a soundless cry of ecstasy and surrender.
As I softly withdraw my hand, her fingers tighten around mine in a silent plea. She pulls in a shaky breath and then another—each one a tremulous sigh of satisfaction mingled with exhaustion.
Kelley’s eyes focus on me and I see a change come over that perfect heart-shaped face.
“Shit,” she gasps. She leaps off the couch, pulling her jeans up.
She stumbles initially, her trembling legs struggling to hold her up, but she catches herself. The look in her eyes is pure panic, wild and uncontrolled. "I can't... I shouldn't..." she stammers, struggling to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swarming within her.
I watch in stunned silence as she scrambles around the room, gathering up her discarded clothes in a hasty attempt to cover her alluring body. I feel a dull ache in the pit of my stomach, realizing that our passionate moment has come to a jarring end — the afterglow replaced by a painful emptiness.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, sounding utterly lost.
She pauses, glancing over her shoulder with a look that tears at my heartstrings.
"I have to go," she murmurs, before disappearing through the door, leaving me alone and unsated in the dim light of my library. Her haunting gaze lingers in my mind — those bright brown eyes filled with an intoxicating blend of fear and desire.
A wave of anger ripples through me as I stare at the empty library. I can still feel the heat from her body lingering on the couch beneath me — a cruel reminder of what had just occurred or rather, what had been abruptly interrupted.
As I retrace our steps, running my fingers along the backrest where she had clawed at it during our short-lived tryst, I grit my teeth against the rising tide of frustration. With every fiber of my being calling out for resolution, for satisfaction that she had abruptly denied us me, I find myself consumed with a need for revenge.
As I stand, the room spins slightly — a dizzying mix of desire and seething rage. The smell of her on my clothes, on my skin... it taunts me—taunts my sanity. So enticing, so alluring, yet so far away now.
Payback will be worth it for leaving me hard like this.