38. Margot
38
margot
Jackson stands again, the water only kissing his hips. His eyes are everywhere but on mine. He takes in my body without reservation and without shame. Every dip of his gaze is another caress, and even though he isn’t touching me, I feel him everywhere. There’s a hunger behind those storm-like eyes, and just knowing I’m wanted by him is enough to make me ache.
“Jackson,” I plead. If he doesn’t touch me again soon, I might pass out.
His eyes flick up to meet mine. “You’re beautiful, Margot.” His voice is low, like it’s a secret he’s been keeping.
It’s the third time he’s ever said that to me, and my entire chest warms. Jackson’s gaze momentarily slips, and I know he’s taking in my physical reaction. I know my chest, neck, and cheeks are flushed just from those three words. My breath comes in short pants, and it isn’t until he closes the space between us that I feel my heart rate calm and spike all at once. He casually drapes his arms over my thighs as he stands between my legs, his thumbs tracing small circles on my lower back .
He presses a kiss between my breasts, and I finally inhale a full breath. Lifting a hand, he pushes some of my wet hair away from my shoulder, his fingers grazing my skin. Another kiss, and he murmurs, “Somehow, when she’s not here, I’m the one who feels miles away.”
My breathing halts.
Jackson presses a warm kiss to my neck, and I suck in a breath at the contact. “Someone, catch me. I’ve fallen for her icy stare.”
Moving to the other side of my neck, his fingers graze down my breast, down my stomach, and over to my hip where he lazily traces circles, and I have to suppress a shiver. “She’s unstoppable,” he says against my skin, his warm breath teasing my flesh. “She’s a force I never saw coming, but I’m so lucky to have been in her way.”
I’m afraid to move—afraid to stop whatever this is—but at the same time, I need more of him. He’s being too gentle, too teasing, and combined with the words leaving his lips, I’m done for. Slowly, he runs his hands back up my waist until he’s palming my breasts, and I let out a soft moan. He presses a kiss between them. “If loving her is playing with fire, I’m begging to be burned.”
My lungs lock. Did he just say what I think he did? My heart hammers in my chest. Was that a confession or a lyric? Are they all about me? Is this how he feels? He doesn’t look at me. Instead, he kisses lower and lower until he gently lifts me closer to the edge of the pool. So many questions swarm in my head, and I want to ask him all of them. I want to know how deep these lyrics go. I want to hear more of them—all of them.
But before I can remember how to speak, Jackson lowers himself and buries his face between my legs, his eyes only flicking up to meet mine a moment before he leans in to part me with his tongue. My head falls back, a throaty moan leaving my lips. I choke on a sob when another flick of his tongue sends me reeling. He sucks hard on my clit, and I yelp at the sudden mix of pain and pleasure. Then he follows with gentle strokes that make it hard for me to hold myself upright. I swear, the way he uses his tongue shouldn’t be allowed. It isn’t fair. He flattens his tongue against me, and I feel like I’m on the verge of blacking out.
Heat coils in my core and my legs start to shake. How am I this close already?
His tongue slows to teasing strokes, and I’m desperate for more. Propping myself up with one hand, I use the other to grip his hair, and he groans. “We’re slowing down, Margot.”
I don’t want slow. I’m panting and needy, and the fact that he’s keeping my orgasm just out of reach has me reeling. Pressing my heel into his back, I try to bring him closer, and he lets out a low laugh against my center. “Let me take my time.”
“Why?” The word comes out breathless.
“I’ve missed the way you taste.” Jackson grips me tighter, his tongue working slow and deep up my center, his next words dragging out of him like a groan. “Fuck, I love the way you taste.”
A whimper leaves my throat.
The sound brings a slight lift to his lips before he goes back for more. Moving one of his hands between my legs, he slowly pushes into me with two fingers, and I desperately clench around them. Finally, he gives me more. His fingers curl deep inside me while his tongue delivers dangerous strokes to my clit. The combination is too much, and I lose it. I come hard, and through every pulsing current of electricity, he savors me.
I’ve barely come down from my orgasm when Jackson hoists himself out of the water and pulls me to my feet. I’m still dazed when he picks me up. I feverishly kiss his neck. I don’t care where he’s taking me. He can have me anywhere he wants .
Droplets of water fall from his hair as he lays me down on one of the large luxury loungers inside a decorative cabana, and before I have a chance to think, his mouth is on mine. There’s a new hunger in the way he’s kissing me, and it’s making my mind a blank slate. His hands are greedy as he rakes from my breasts, to my waist, to my ass, and as soon as he straightens and frees himself from his briefs, I can feel him at my entrance, hard and ready. My legs open wider, my body begging him to ease the empty ache, and he doesn’t take his time. With one quick thrust, he’s inside me, thick and dominating. The air rushes from my lungs, and my body tries to catch up, my walls tensing then relaxing around him. My head falls back as my hips tilt to take him in deeper because he feels so good. It isn’t until Jackson is rooted deep inside me that he takes a breath, like fucking me is the fix he needed.
Leaning forward, he kisses me gently while he thrusts into me hard. The contradiction has my head swimming. Taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger, he’s gentle but firm as he forces me to look at him. His eyes are dark, the gray and blue almost completely swallowed by black.
“You’re mine.”
Panting, I give a faint nod. “I’m yours.”
That’s all it takes for his mouth to crash into mine. He fucks me like I’m his for the taking, and I am. There’s something about seeing him use my body this way that turns me on. There’s something carnal about the way he’s taking me. Each hit has me clinging to the cushion, and with every hard thrust, my hips open to him, begging for more.
“Say it again,” he commands through heated breaths.
It’s hard to find my voice. It ends up coming out shaky and cracked. “I’m yours.”
He picks up his pace, angling my hips in such a way that my eyes cross. I’m going to come if he keeps this up. “Jackson,” I plead, and he answers by slamming into me harder. I tighten around him like a vice a second before I fall apart. I cry out on the lounger beneath him, and he covers my mouth with his hand a second before he stiffens, pouring his release into me. I clench around him as I ride out the aftershocks of my second orgasm and take a little too much pleasure in the shiver that runs through him. I love that I’m the only one who gets this side of him.
I love that he’s mine.