Chapter 21 This Changes Everything #2
He backed me up until my back hit the side of the car. His mouth moved down my jaw to my throat, then he bit down at the curve of my neck and shoulder — hard enough to make me gasp, not hard enough to break skin.
I shuddered.
“Fuck,” he breathed against my skin, licking over the bite before sucking hard.
His hand slid under my dress, hot against my inner thigh, moving higher. He pressed against my panties and groaned when he found me soaked. “Jesus, Harper.”
“Back seat,” I said against his mouth.
He yanked the door open. I climbed in, shoved my dress up around my hips, and kicked my panties aside in one motion.
By the time I turned, his jacket was gone and his eyes were fixed on me, dark and hungry.
With a rough growl he grabbed me and yanked me onto his lap.
I braced my knees on either side of him as his hands shoved my dress higher, locked onto my bare ass, and pulled me down hard.
I kept the rhythm, rolling my hips over the thick line of his cock through his jeans.
His head dropped back against the seat, teeth sinking into his lower lip.
I tore his shirt open. Buttons scattered across the seat.
His eyes flew open. A deep, feral growl ripped from his chest as I shoved the shirt down his arms and ran my hands over the hot skin underneath. When I bent and bit down on his pectoral, his whole body jolted.
“Fuck—Harper,” he rasped, voice ragged. One hand fisted tight in my hair, the other digging into my ass hard enough to bruise. He pulled me down harder against him, grinding up into me with a sharp roll of his hips.
I couldn’t wait anymore. I shoved my hand between us and ripped his jeans open. When I pulled his cock free and wrapped my hand around the thick length of him, the sound he made was raw.
“You sure?” he asked, voice strained, catching my wrist.
“Yes.”
His forehead dropped to mine, breath turning ragged. “Harper. No going back after this.”
“I said yes.”
He let go of my wrist.
I gave him one slow, tight stroke, then rose up and lined him up. I dragged the thick head of his cock through my wetness, back and forth, letting him feel every inch of how ready I was.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
“Mm.”
“You’re killing me.”
On the next downward glide his hands clamped hard on my hips and pulled me down. I sank onto the thick head of him, just an inch, and we both went still. The same hard shudder hit us at the same time.
Then reality cut in.
“Condom,” I gasped.
“Fuck.” He lifted me onto his thighs, grabbed a condom from his wallet, and rolled it on with quick, practiced movements.
“Come here.” His voice was rough as he pulled me back onto his lap and kissed me hard.
I lifted up again, lined him up, and sank down in one long, burning push. He filled me inch by inch until I was fully seated and we both went still, shaking. He was thick enough that the stretch bordered on pain, and the full, buried weight of him inside me knocked the air from my lungs.
“Fuck,” he groaned, forehead pressed to mine. “You feel so good.”
I started moving. Slow rolls of my hips at first, then longer rises and drops that took him deeper every time. He let me set the pace, hands locked hard on my thighs, eyes fixed on my face like he didn’t want to miss a single second of it.
But it wasn’t enough.
I leaned in and nipped his earlobe. "Is this really all you've got?"
Jackson went perfectly still. "You have no idea what you're asking for."
I smiled. "Show me."
Whatever leash he’d been keeping snapped.
His hands locked hard around my hips, he dragged in one sharp breath through his teeth, and then he planted his feet and slammed up into me.
Hard. Deep. Wet skin met skin in a relentless filthy rhythm.
I braced one hand on the roof, the other clawing into his shoulder, and met him stroke for stroke.
“Like that,” I gasped.
He growled, slowing just enough to search my face. "Still okay?"
“Yes,” I gasped. “Don’t stop.”
That was all he needed. One hand stayed clamped on my hip, the other forced between us to work my clit in tight, ruthless circles. The angle hit that place inside me with every stroke until I was making sounds I barely recognized, raw and broken every time he bottomed out.
The windows were completely fogged. Outside, the world no longer existed. The car rocked with every thrust. His mouth found my neck again, sucking hard enough to make me gasp, before trailing down to my breast. His teeth grazed my nipple, and my whole body tightened around him.
I was close. So fucking close.
“Jackson—”
“Come,” he growled against my skin, thrusting harder. “Let me feel you.”
The orgasm slammed into me without warning.
Three weeks of resistance collapsed in a single brutal wave.
I clenched hard around him, thighs shaking, a raw sound ripping from my throat as it tore through me.
He kept thrusting, relentless, forcing the climax to keep going until I was reduced to broken whimpers.
Only then did he let himself follow.
With a deep, guttural groan he buried himself to the hilt and came, arms wrapped tight around me, face pressed into my neck as his body shuddered with release.
We stayed locked together for a long time, breathing hard, hearts hammering against each other.
I didn’t know what to call this. Ten years of fear and planning, and somehow I had let myself trust him completely. My cat trusted him. That alone should have terrified me, but it didn’t.
He stayed buried inside me, breathing against my throat, one hand cradling the back of my neck while his thumb traced slow, absent circles over my skin.
Eventually, he lifted his head and studied my face. His gaze drifted briefly to my neck before his thumb brushed gently over the spot where his mouth had been.
That small, tender touch snapped me out of it.
Reality crashed back in, cold and brutal. I was still joined to him. Still sitting in the lap of the man whose father I planned to kill. Two names left on the list, and I had just fucked the one person who could destroy the entire plan if he ever learned the truth.
I climbed off him without a word, settled onto the seat beside him, and pulled my dress down. My hands shook while I tried to smooth my hair. I forced them still and looked away.
Jackson stayed quiet. He dealt with the condom and straightened his ruined shirt, eyes never leaving me.
“Harper…”
“I’m fine,” I said, twisting my hair into a quick knot.
He didn’t push. He simply watched me for another second, then opened the door and stepped out into the cold.
I snatched my panties from the floor, balled them in my fist, and climbed out the other side.
The night air hit my bare legs hard. I walked around the car without looking at him and got into the front passenger seat.
The drive home was silent. No music. No conversation. Just the dark road stretching ahead and the heavy, unspoken weight between us.
I stared out the window, jaw locked, forcing the walls back up piece by piece. They had only been down for a few reckless minutes, but the damage felt larger than that.
He pulled up in front of my house and killed the engine.
I reached for the door handle.
“Harper.”
I stopped.
His voice came low in the dark. “I’m not going to pretend this didn’t happen. And I’m not going to let you pretend either.”
I swallowed. “It doesn’t change anything.”
“It already has.”