60. Chapter 60 Margot
Chapter sixty
“Yes, thank you so much for your warm wishes. I’m still not interested at this time, but if that changes, I’ll be sure to consider your team,” I say politely, masking how much I want to bite the head off the representative for the third giant corporation who’s tried to buy me out this week.
The New York store has been an amazing success, and although it’s been a whirlwind, I’m having a good time.
There have been a couple of moments, though, when I’ve considered what it would be like to take a step back from the administrative duties and solely focus on creative direction.
Then the devil on my shoulder reminds me that we’ve only just achieved all this.
Why would we give it up so soon? I don’t really have time to unpack all of that tonight, so I shake it off as I grab my things and move downstairs to meet my driver.
Milan and Berlin have both been floated as potential expansions, and I have the weekend to prepare before meetings next week.
I look up from the sidewalk to find my driver, but instead, Jack is waiting in front of a sleek SUV.
“Hi, Princess,” he says, kissing my cheek and taking my things before opening the back door for me. Sliding in beside me, he places his hand on my thigh, immediately causing goose bumps to erupt across my body.
“What is this? Is anything wrong?” I ask, a little breathless from his presence.
He chuckles and shifts over to be closer, his entire body pressed against the side of mine.
“Nothing wrong. A little birdie told me that you’ve had an extremely busy week, and I was hoping you’d indulge me with dinner at home tonight.
Nothing fancy. Just to relax. If you don’t want to and you’d rather be home alone and do your skincare and go to sleep, we can drop you off there. No pressure.”
I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and think about how, since I’ve been slowly letting Jack back into my life, I’ve felt lighter and more like myself than I have in years.
He seems to really just want to take care of me, and as hard as it is to accept it, I really like it.
After being pretty independent for over two years, I’m starting to like the idea of a partner, someone to share things with.
I could fight him for taking me away from my pre-planned evening of, well, nothing.
But I think I might be done fighting. At least, I think I’m getting there.
Leaning into his side and putting my head on his shoulder, I smile. “I think a quiet dinner sounds perfect.”
It’s a bit surreal, pulling up with Jack to my old apartment building from my time in the city while completing my master’s. He usually isn’t the forgetful type, and didn’t he say we were going to his place?
“I don’t live here anymore, Jack,” I say, furrowing my brow and checking to see if he’s showing any overt signs of a stroke.
Trying to remember the acronym, I see his face isn’t symmetrical, but I think it’s due to his half grimace, half grin.
He wasn’t slurring his words in the car.
The driver has dropped us off and left, so now we’re stuck here for the time being. “Are you okay?”
“Ha. Yeah. Yes, yes, I’m okay.” He awkwardly chuckles, clearing his throat and leading me by the hand into the building and up the elevator. “So, I know you don’t live here, Margot. But, uh, well. I kind of do.”
Too much time passes as I blink at him sheepishly.
“You live here.”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“It’s been a while. I don’t really remember the move-in date. I might have the paperwork around here somewhere if you want details, or we can ask Mrs. Goldsmith across the hall. You know she never forgets anything and probably has a time-stamped video of me moving all my stuff in…”
He’s rambling, but I’ve stopped paying him any attention.
As soon as he opened the door and led me in with one hand on my lower back, I made a beeline for the corner of the living room that always got the most natural light during the day.
Now I’m running my hands along the beautiful grand piano from his other apartment, feeling tears fill my eyes.
“Why do you have this?” I ask lowly, not daring to turn around. He takes slow steps until he’s a foot away, then he stops.
He’s not going to answer me, and as I move to sit on the piano bench so I can see him, I ask him again.
My voice is clear, making it obvious he’s getting nothing from me until he answers.
This is an answer I’ve deserved for a long time, I think.
I’m going to hear it from him whether he likes it or not.
“Why. Do. You. Have. This?” I ask again, through clenched teeth, before I can’t take it for another second.
I turn on the bench, fully facing him and seeing his head bowed, eyes on the floor, jaw clenched.
“Why do you have this ? And why do you live in my apartment, Jack?” My voice that had risen falls to a whisper on his name, like I’m scared to speak it and conjure him, even though he’s already here.
I see his jaw clench once more before he tips his head back, eyes to the ceiling, and then he kneels so that his eyes are level with mine.
Tears stream down his face, and after a moment, his face crumples.
He takes a moment to reach out and grab one of my hands, playing with my fingers before he speaks, so quietly I can barely hear him.
“The piano is here because I…I had to pretend in any way that I could that one day you’d be here, too.
It’s not…it’s fair, it was my fault. I deserved it.
But Margot, I….” He lets out a heavy breath, and his words come faster but no louder, and the tears don’t stop.
Jack’s emboldened, I guess, by the fact that I haven’t run screaming yet.
He continues, playing with my left ring finger although I doubt it’s intentional.
“I regretted everything the instant you left. And I knew, immediately, that I was to blame, and I deserved every ounce of pain coming my way. And I took it all, I promise you. Please never doubt that every moment you were in France was a penance for me, one that I know I deserved. But I’m so selfish, Princess.
I had to have something to delude myself, deep down, that you might be back where I was, one day.
So I bought the apartment. I hoped it would still smell like you.
” He lets out a watery, self-deprecating laugh at this.
“It did for a while. God, it was heaven while it did. I could go to work, come home, sit on this couch, and think about Thanksgiving and eat chocolate like an asshole and pretend. Then it faded, and I started buying your perfumes and shampoos, but it didn’t smell right, and fuck if that wasn’t a dark hole to crawl out of. ”
He’s back to staring at me now, with the most earnest, pleading look I’ve ever seen, and I feel my heart break along old lines and then snap back together, tighter than before.
I think he’s waiting for me to say something, or give any indication that I’m internalizing what he’s saying, but the glint of silver at the cuffs of his shirt has caught my eye.
His cuff links are delicate and clearly custom.
A replica of Sprinkles, my favorite childhood stuffed animal.
He sees me notice them, but doesn’t say anything, and my gaze travels up his torso before snagging on the chain I’ve only ever seen glimpses of.
Instead of a cross or some other emblem at the center, it’s a crown. Or maybe a tiara.
He sees me notice the necklace, too, and must decide it’s time to say something, anything at all, to try to salvage how creepy he just made himself sound.
“Princess, I…fuck!”
Whatever else he was planning to say is silenced forever by my mouth as I pounce off the piano bench and onto him, straddling his waist and pushing us both to the floor.
Threading my fingers through his hair, I grind against him, reveling in how hard he is underneath me, how much bigger he is.
I bite his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood before sucking it into my mouth, needing him inside me in every way.
Sitting back up, I rip his dress shirt open, buttons flying, and scrape my fingernails down his chest and torso as hard as I can. I hope I leave scars.
Grinning down at his bewildered face, I growl out, “ Mine. That piano is mine. This necklace is mine. You. Are. Mine.”
Something about this brings him back into himself, and he gives me a saucy smirk before he sits up effortlessly to bring his forehead to mine and look into my eyes. “Yeah, Princess. It’s all yours. It always has been.”
He moves to stand, and I squeak and wrap my legs around his waist, convinced he’ll drop me from this awkward angle, but he stands to his full height, holding me like I’m weightless.
I’m expecting to be dropped softly onto the bed, or set on the back of the couch, or hell, on top of the piano.
Anything except him slamming me into the wall so hard a frame falls to the floor, one hand coming behind my head to protect it from the force.
The look in his eyes is different from anything I’ve ever seen from Jack before. He’s unhinged. Feral. I might have enough sense to be scared if I wasn’t so horny.
“I’m yours, Princess. I have been, and I will be, independently of anything you could ever do in this life.
Nothing can ever change that. You have to know.
” He pulls back, eyes blown black, and moves his hand from behind my head to cradle my jaw firmly, holding me in place while he stares into my soul.
“I am yours and you. Are. Mine,” he growls. “You’ve always been mine, Margot. I won’t let you go again. For anything.”
Fuck. Yes. Yes, you stupid man who’s atoned and fought for me. I want you. Yes.
“Please,” I breathe, and he’s on me again.
By the time we make it to the bedroom, we have more clothes off than on, and we’ll both be covered in scratches and bruises tomorrow.
It’s like we both want to dig into one another, burrow inside so deeply that nothing can tear us apart again.
Finally, my blouse is torn away, and I’m left lying on the bed in the simple matching bra and thong I wore today in soft pink lace.
“You’re such a fucking vision, Margot Sinclair,” he moans. I yelp as he pushes my panties to the side and plunges two long fingers into me, finding me soaked.
“Oh my God,” I wheeze as he adds a third, stretching me out as if he’s on a mission.
“Gotta make sure you’re ready for me, baby, but worshipping you like you deserve has to wait. I have to be inside you. It’s been too long.” He’s shaking with the effort of keeping himself off me now, and I need him.
“Please, Jack. Please. Inside me, I need you,” I gasp as he gives me exactly what I asked for, ripping my panties off and slowly sliding the thick cock that I’ve missed so much all the way inside in one devastating thrust.
He doesn't even ask, just slides into me bare. Nobody has since him, and I forgot how much better, how much...more…it feels.
“I hope you're not on birth control, Princess.”
“Don't you mean...” Fuck, he's deep, and I wiggle, trying to find a way to catch my breath as he’s forcing it out of me, one long thrust at a time. “You hope I am?”
He stops thrusting, settling deep inside me and leaning down to stare into my eyes as his fingers find my clit. “No, baby girl. I really fucking don't.”
I come immediately, his words and his fingers leaving me unable to resist falling apart.
“That’s it, darling. Mine. My orgasms, isn’t that right?
” He pulls back to give me a long look full of a wild adoration that I sincerely hope I’ll be seeing for the rest of my life.
Pressing a sweet kiss to my forehead, he moves both of my legs to his shoulders and bends me in half.
Oh fuck, that’s deep. I wince, then moan as he drags his way out.
The push and pull of the pain and pleasure is going to send me over the edge again.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he teases, drawing my attention back to him and placing one hand around my neck.
Not much pressure, just enough to remind me that he has me where he wants me.
God, I like this new sex Jack. “You pay attention to me when I’m fucking you, Margot.
And you damn sure look me in the eyes when you come on this cock. ”
I do. I stare right at him, fighting the urge to let my eyes roll back into my head but keeping them on him the entire time.
“Oh fuck,” he says gently on an exhale, before giving me the same honor and holding my eyes as he comes inside me, his warmth spilling as deep as he can. “That’s my girl.”
He releases my legs from his shoulders, and I wrap them around his waist, eager to stay connected for as long as possible.
Our kisses turn sweeter and sweeter, and I’m lost in them when I realize he’s hard again.
Or he was never soft. He’s fucking back into me slowly now, our combined cum making a mess of my pussy that I can feel dripping down onto the sheet.
As he picks up the pace, he gives me one more kiss before pulling out, flipping me over onto my elbows and knees, and driving back in, pausing deep with the sexiest groan escaping his mouth.
“You look confused, Princess,” he taunts. “Did you think we were done?”
I whine as he refuses to thrust, staying firmly pressed against my G-spot as he teases me. “I thought… ugh… you came, so I thought we were done.”
Wrapping my hair around his fist, he pulls me up, still speared on his cock, until my back hits his chest. Gently turning my head so that I can see him, he’s giving me a confused look as his thrusts begin again, just enough to remind me that he’s there.
“You thought that I would have you for the first time in years, and come inside you once , and that would be enough for now? That I would need a break? I hate to break it to you, darling, but we’re nowhere near done for the night.
You might as well settle in,” he trails off into a whisper before pushing me back down onto my elbows, and I let him.
His thrusts become more punishing, and I feel his strong arms and the delicate chain dangling down to tickle my back, and I float away.