Chapter Twenty-One JACKIE #2
With one hand tangled in my hair, he pulls me back and drags his lips down my jaw and neck, murmuring into my skin, “Tell me you want me to stop.”
It’s too late for that.
“You said I shouldn’t tell lies.”
In one movement, he kicks the door shut and lifts me, setting me on the workbench. He towers over me, standing between my legs, hands braced on the inside of my thighs, his fingers spread, his thumb nearly grazing the seam of my jeans.
I rock my hips, chasing the pressure, but he doesn’t let me have it.
His hair is disheveled, pupils dilated, eyes close to black. “I don’t have it in me to be gentle.”
I don’t want that from him. It would make us something we’re not.
“I didn’t ask you to be,” I say clearly while I make quick work of the buttons of his shirt, sliding over warm skin, down his chest, then lower, until I hook my fingers into his waistband and pop the top button.
For all his talk, he seems hesitant all of a sudden.
“Show me,” I whisper, sliding my hand inside his briefs, stroking him, feeling him tense beneath my touch. “Everything you want to do to me.”
I twist my wrist and palm his head, spreading the moisture, and he chokes back a broken groan.
“I want to feel it.” I might sound a bit desperate, but I don’t care, I’m too far gone.
His forehead drops to mine, breath coming harsh and uneven. His hands flex on my thighs. Then he hooks his arms under my knees and drags me to the edge, kissing me until I’m dizzy.
When he unzips my jeans, his fingers brush the silk fabric of my underwear, deliberate and slow. He ghosts his hand up to my breast, teasing over the nipple, until it hardens beneath his touch. He pinches it. I gasp, and he catches the sound in his mouth.
Then he’s back between my legs, fingers tracing, rubbing circles, lower, closer to where my panties are soaked. His quiet growl of approval only feeds the fire.
The pressure builds. His mouth hovers over mine, barely touching, exchanging breaths. I’m right there, I can feel the wave building, swelling until…he pulls away and I’m left grasping at nothing.
A frustrated sob claws up my throat. He smiles and eases his palms under the back of my pants, tugging them lower.
“Something the matter, Jackie?” His large hands cup my ass, fingers pressing into my flesh.
He really wants me to beg. Is this what he likes now, or is it just for me?
Any other time, maybe I’d stop to ask myself why it’s so easy to surrender to him. Give him complete control. I like to have an iron-fist grip on every aspect of my life. But I keep giving him power I never let anyone else have.
My body is too coiled with need. Answering for me.
“Please.” I whisper another broken whimper against his neck, pride dissolving. I hate how pathetic I sound. “Please, touch me.”
The hand grazing the curve of my ass is gentle, but his next words aren’t. “You don’t deserve slow and sweet.” The dull laugh that vibrates out of him sounds more like he’s talking to himself. “Turn around.”
Shock and heat twist in my bloodstream, the taste of anticipation heavy on my tongue. When I take too long to comply, the sharp sting of a slap to my buttock echoes through the small space and travels down to my core.
“Do you need another reminder to behave?” His tone is deceptively calm, but the flex in his jaw has me quickly turning around.
Heart pounding, I brace against the workbench, facing the tools hanging on the wood panels.
Slowly, he presses his palm between my shoulder blades, guiding me down until my cheek rests on the worn wood. Then his hands slide down my sides, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of my jeans and tugging them down.
My cheeks burn at the way he first steps back and, for a few seconds, doesn’t say anything. Just stares.
Then his palms smooth over my hips. Moving down. Spreading me open, exposing me.
I’m already trembling when he slides his thumbs over my flesh, circling, drawn out and steady, until I’m slick beneath his touch.
“Isn’t this a pretty sight?” he growls. “All ready for me.”
He keeps teasing, too light, too slow, until he pushes two fingers inside me, and I nearly fall apart.
“Mmm. So tight,” he murmurs, voice rough. “So fucking greedy.”
My nails scrape the wooden table. I do my best to stay still, but the tension is unbearable.
I feel him moving behind me, and I swear I’ll scream if he leaves me like that.
“Adam, I’ll—”
The words get lodged in my throat when his tongue replaces his fingers between my legs. My knees buckle when his mouth closes over me, sucking hard, drawing out a desperate sound.
I bite my lip, because I don’t want to alert the guard pacing around the house. I squirm, teetering on the edge, praying to all the gods. I want a release so bad I’m about to burst into tears.
And then he stops.
He fucking stops.
I want to scream. I swear I’m going to shove his power trip down his…
But before I can, he’s there, the blunt head of his cock pressing against me. The next moment, his hands hold my hips in place, and he thrusts, deep, filling me in one relentless motion.
It steals my breath. The feeling is so overwhelming that I cry out, but he quickly covers my mouth with his hand, his body caging me.
“Do you want your guards barging in?” His harsh whisper in my ear drops hot liquid in my belly. “You want them to see you get fucked?” Adam grunts, sliding in and out in short, sharp bursts.
All I can do is shake my head, breath hot and wet against his palm.
My muffled whimpers mingle with his sharp inhales, and his rhythm builds, ramming me into the table, but I don’t care.
All I want is him. Rough and relentless. Fucking me like he hates me. I couldn’t handle anything else.
“Do you still have the implant?” he grunts against my ear.
I nod, and it’s all it takes for him to pick up the pace.
He grips me between my legs, playing with me, while he drives into me, faster, deeper. It’s too much, too intense.
He’s not tender. It’s destructive and vengeful, like he wants to punish me, and deep down, I crave it. Adam’s coming apart, and I’m unraveling with him. Every thrust burns what’s left of my control.
Tears line my lashes, the pleasure sharp enough to hurt. Tension builds in swelling waves. Hot and tempestuous. Then it all twists into a void. Like the ringing silence before an earth-shattering explosion.
Within the next beat, it unleashes, ripping through me, scorching every nerve ending. I break apart, shaking, gasping.
Adams’s rhythm falters. Then he stills, groaning into my neck, body trembling as he lets go.
For a long moment, there’s nothing but the feel of his head bowed on my back, and the sound of our breathing, rough and uneven.
In the eerie quiet, the weight of what we did almost knocks me over.
“Are you OK?” His voice is barely a whisper, his hand tracing the side of my rib cage.
Oh, no. Don’t do that. Don’t be gentle now.
“Yeah,” I say, though my throat is raw.
“You’re shivering. Let’s go inside.”
My nose burns. Shame, laced with panic, swallows me whole.
I shake my head, turning away before he can see the tears, but a small sob slips out. “I’m fine.”
Adam pulls my jeans up, too careful now, together with my ruined panties, and gathers me in his arms, his chest heaving against my spine.
“You don’t sound fine.” His earlier fury is replaced by concern.
I take a few calming breaths, blink away the tears, and force my heartbeat to slow. Then I pull at his hands until there’s enough distance between us so I can think.
“You go first,” I sniff, dragging the back of my hand under my nose. “I need a minute.”
“Jackie,” he breathes my name. “I didn’t mean—”
With trembling hands, I straighten my clothes, avoiding his troubled gaze. “Yes, you did.” My voice wavers, but I make myself look at him. “I wanted it like that. Now go.”
He slowly steps back, buttoning his shirt, looking far too worried.
Common sense rushes back in with every breath.
How could I be so damn weak?
He touches me, and I lose all trace of dignity. He’s a liar, and I hate how easily his hands make me feel like none of it matters.
This was a massive mistake. I can’t let him think it changes anything.
“I don’t want to leave you like this,” he says finally, lingering by the door. The way he looks at me is exactly why I can’t trust myself around him.
“Please stop it.” My tone is more cutting than it needs to be, but I’m so mad at myself right now. I gather my hair and twist it back into place. “We both know what this was.”
A shadow flickers across his face before he smooths his expression, nodding once. But before he walks away, I need to make things crystal clear.
What happened just now did not fix or erase anything. It only made the ruined pieces of us harder to ignore.
“Oh, and Adam,” I say, a metallic ring to my voice, forcing the lie through the lump in my throat, “this never happened.”
His fists clench.
“Right,” he says, but the word sinks like a stone in my gut.
It might not be true, but it’s the only thing keeping me from clawing my way back to him.