29. JACKSON #2
I lean over and swallow as much of him as I can, mind reeling.
I had no idea sex could be this fun. Full of laughter and moans.
Teasing, but not just with touches. I never realized it’d fill me with the same kind of warmth I get when we’re fooling around in the kitchen, him dancing around me and trying to whip me playfully with a dish towel, or me scooping him up, throwing him over my shoulder, and dumping him on the couch when he gives me sass.
It all just feels right with him. No matter what it is.
His hand dips to my crease, and he squeezes my cheek lightly. I pull up, gaze locking on his while I suck on his head.
He pops off me. “Open for business?”
I nod around his dick, then quickly add a muffled “mmhmm”. His eyes flutter, and he lets out a shaky breath. Anticipation shimmies over my skin. I might be getting acquainted with my prostate today. Woof. We haven’t ventured into this area yet.
“I’ll go slow, dolcezza,” he murmurs. “You tell me to stop at any point.”
Something cool spreads down my crease, and I groan.
Lube. It was lube he grabbed before. Of course.
Frankie is always prepared. His fingers follow the lube, and his lips close around me at the same time his fingers massage around my hole.
A noise catches in my throat at the new sensation.
He continues that teasing, never passing over his final destination.
And it’s killing me. My nerves are short-circuiting.
He’s barely sucking me, his lips loose as he drags them up and down my shaft.
His slick finger glides over my hole, and oh my God.
I writhe, my moans drowned out by his dick stuffed in my mouth.
I don’t even know if he’s going to get inside me.
I had no idea how something so light and simple would light up my entire body.
He keeps up with those passes over my hole, a hint of pressure but nothing more.
My skin is buzzing, my insides zinging, ecstasy simmering and ready to boil over at any second.
But it won’t, not until he gives me what I need.
I barely hold back my growl. I thrust back, trying to force him to breach me.
He chuckles around me, all knowing and all fucking evil.
I pop off him. “Frankie, please.”
He groans. But he doesn’t give me what I crave. No, he slips off my dick, and what shines back at me in that heavy-lidded gaze has the blood stilling in my veins.
“Again,” he murmurs, deep, dangerous, and thick with demand. “Beg for it.”
The ache in my balls grows tenfold, and I whine. He’s going to destroy me. I’m not going to survive this.
“Frankie—” Desperation closes around my throat, stealing my words. “Please. I need you. Need you in me. I’m so…I’m so…”
His finger massages faster, and my body twitches and jerks. Sensations surge through me, like my skin is a live wire, set off by his touch. But something’s missing.
“What are you so, dolcezza?”
“Empty,” I whimper. “Please, Frankie. Fill me.”
He curses, his hips bucking into my face, and I press open-mouthed, lust-drunk kisses over his shaft. “Please,” I say brokenly, my tongue flicking out to lick up the pre-cum leaking down him.
And finally, finally, his finger sinks inside.
I stiffen, my brain’s reaction instantaneous, but it’s there and gone in a heartbeat, overshadowed by the bliss spiraling through me. I push back on him. I let myself sink into the feeling of having something inside me, and what I realize is…I want more.
He swallows my dick, sucking hard, and it doesn’t take long before I’m thrusting between those shiny lips and back onto his finger.
I mouth along his dick until I can bury my nose in his pubes. I inhale, drink him in. Pleasure’s coming at me from every direction. Frankie’s coming at me from everywhere. His touch. His taste. His scent. And it’s everything.
He slips in another finger. Fuck. I try to focus on my breathing, but my vision is dotting over.
It’s too good.
The tight drag of his lips, the light stretch that has my body dying in anticipation. I wasn’t prepared for how addictive that burn would be.
A hot simmer spreads through me, tingles down to my fingers and toes. Builds. Builds until I’m so full I know I’m going to burst. His fingers skate over my prostate, there and gone, and my body jerks, a cry escaping me.
My chest surges, a trickle of sweat trickling down my nape. This is all too much, a rampage of bliss tearing through me. And then he goes for the close out, throws that final strike. His fingers land on that spot. Massage. And don’t stop.
K. O.
Pleasure arcs through me, my back bows as my hoarse shout gets muffled in his thigh.
My hand flies to his head, yanking his hair tight as I hold him deep.
I shake against him, his throat squeezing around me as he swallows.
Another shudder of ecstasy rips through me at those muscles hugging me tight.
My teeth dig into his hip, eyes sealed shut, the pleasure so intense I’m afraid my body’s going to combust, go up in flames, and only ashes will be left.
Somehow, I make it through, still here, still with this glorious man. My orgasm fades, my ragged breaths bursting through the bedroom. I wiggle away when things get oversensitive.
He caresses my ass while he coats my hip and thigh and flagging cock with kisses. This man. I’m going to rock his fucking world. In, like, one minute. Just need to catch my breath. Then he better be ready for the best dick-sucking of his life.
We lock gazes, his still blown apart—lust drunk. It sends a ripple of determination through me. I’m up to bat. And I’m crushing this one to the bleachers.
I shove him to his back, clamp my hands on his hips, then I sink on him. His moan of surprise lights me up inside. Just you wait, babe. I loosen my jaw, and with each bob, I take him deeper. And deeper. He hits the back of my throat, and his hips fight against my hold. God, that’s hot.
“Jackson. Fuck. I’m going to—You need to back off.”
Nope. I want this. The next time he hits my throat, I swallow.
His body goes rigid beneath me, and his cock pulses on my tongue.
Damn, that’s so fucking sexy. And then he erupts, a deep moan falling from him.
I swallow and might be a tiny bit proud of how well I take him down my throat. Shane’s beer bong advice for the win.
As soon as he goes lax, I pull off him, gently licking him clean.
“Mmmm,” I hum.
He looks like he’s melted into the bed, eyes closed, body limp. I grin. Go me! I crawl up next to him and kiss his cheek.
He smiles, eyes still closed. His hand searches through the covers until it finds mine. He brings our entwined fingers to his mouth and presses a kiss to them. “Welcome home, Jackie-boy.”
Welcome home.
Such a common phrase. Tossed around all the time in the Olander household.
But I’ve never actually felt it until today.