64. Margot
64
margot
It took everything in me not to replay the song as soon as it ended. It’s devastating, but there’s a beautiful longing and ache to it, too. I’m so proud of him—I’m so impressed by him. He never ceases to surprise me in all the best ways. The fact that he’s here, the fact that he’s fighting for us, the fact that he wrote a song about me at all, let alone after we broke up. They’re all things I never imagined him doing, and I realize that even though I’ve always thought highly of him, I still wasn’t giving him enough credit.
Toward the end of our relationship, I had convinced myself I was the only one sacrificing for us. He got to be on tour, have adoring fans, and when he came home, he’d get to have me, too. It felt like an imbalance I desperately wanted to right. But the distance was a sacrifice for him, too.
“Margot.” His voice is soft and low, like a light nudge.
I blink, snapping out of my thoughts.
Jackson lets out a light laugh. “Take all the time you need, but if you don’t say something soon, I might pass out.”
His hands are wound tightly together as he leans his forearms on the kitchen counter. He’s tense again .
He’s afraid like I am.
We’re probably fearing different things, but the feeling is the same. He’s suffering because he wants this so badly, and I know exactly how that feels. Except last time, I ran from that fear. I tried to escape it only to have it catch up with me when I was vulnerable and alone in the dark.
I don’t want to be scared anymore.
I don’t want to run.
I don’t want to hide from the possibility of getting hurt.
With Jackson, it’s always felt like jumping in with both feet. Why should this be any different?
“I’m thinking . . .” Jackson lifts his head, his face neutral but his eyes clinging to hope. With a slight nod, I say, “I want to come with you.”
His piercing eyes are laser-focused on me. “Really?”
I nod, and the prickling sensation behind my eyes picks up again for a completely different reason. I’m a mess. Any emotion could probably make me cry after everything that’s happened tonight.
“I love you.” His words come out like a breath of relief—like he’s been holding them in this entire time. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to hearing him say it. Those words coming from him is a dangerous combination that has the power to stop me in my tracks and make my knees buckle. Jackson holds my face in his hands and kisses me. The urgency behind his kiss ignites my core with an entirely new flame—one that’s hotter and brighter than anything I’ve felt before.
“Say it again,” I say in heated breaths against his lips.
Jackson lifts me off my feet, and my legs wrap around him as he carries me toward my room. “Trust me, Red. By tomorrow morning, this entire apartment is going to know just how much I love you.”
A small smile comes to my lips, but even his humor can’t shake the need building inside me. My fingers weave through his hair and my mouth finds his neck. I lick just below his ear before gently sinking my teeth into his earlobe. Jackson’s grip tightens, and he pushes my bedroom door open with his foot.
Lying me down on the bed beneath him, Jackson holds himself over me. The gray-blue of his eyes are almost completely swallowed by black as he looks down at me in my oversized sweater and shorts like I might as well be wearing lingerie. “You’re mine,” he says with an unmistakable hunger in his eyes.
“I’m yours,” I answer, already frantically reaching for his pants. It isn’t until I have the button undone that I hesitate. “Um.” I swallow. “Have you been with anyone since?—”
He’s already shaking his head before I finish speaking. “No.” I only have half a second to feel relieved because the next thing I know, his mouth is on mine. I hook my leg behind him to pull him closer, and his hard length gives a delicious pressure where I need it most. I writhe against him, but too quickly he’s gone. Jackson holds himself up, keeping space between us. “What about you? Did you and Braden ever . . .”
My eyes widen. “No. Nothing happened. Not with him—not with anyone.” My chest rises and falls as I nudge him closer with my leg again. “Only you. I only want you.”
Jackson wipes a hand over his mouth as he looks me up and down, his eyes darkening. “Sit up.”
I do as he says, and with more care than I expected, he pulls my sweater up and over my head.
I reach behind, having no patience to wait for whatever he’s trying to do, and unclasp my bra before tossing it on the floor a few feet away. Those eyes take me in unapologetically, lingering on my chest for a beat too long before they lift to meet my stare again.
“Lie down.”
I do, and he works to unbutton my shorts. My eyes jump from his hands working them down my legs, up to the ceiling, and back again. My rapid breathing makes it impossible to think straight, but I know I’ve never seen him like this. My body buzzes, and when he carefully slides my underwear down too, I suck in a breath.
Jackson stands from the bed, his eyes never leaving mine. His pants are already unbuttoned, but he undoes the zipper and takes them off the rest of the way. I can clearly make out the shape of him, straining against his briefs, and the heavy heat between my legs intensifies. It’s only been two months since we were together in New York. We’ve gone longer without being together, but with everything that’s happened between us, it feels like it’s been years. It feels like I’ve been waiting for this moment, my entire life.
“You’re beautiful.”
My legs shake slightly, but I let them fall open, my eyes never leaving his. Jackson stands at the foot of the bed, drinking in the sight of me. He curses under his breath and reaches into his briefs to stroke himself, and I whimper at the sight of him touching himself while he looks at me.
Jackson’s dark eyes flick up to meet mine as he removes his briefs, and the sight of him hard and bare has me aching. He positions himself over me on the bed again, spreading my legs wider with his knee. “I’m going to show you how much I’m yours.”
I thought he would thrust inside me right away, but he doesn’t. My heart hammers in my chest as he runs his thumb over my bottom lip before taking it between his teeth, dragging across it with equal parts pleasure and pain. “But first, this,” he says, his voice rough. He kisses my swollen lips softly. “Mine.”
With his hand on my throat, he moves to kiss me just below my ear. He kisses my shoulder. My chest. His hand moves from my throat to my breast where he slowly palms me while he takes my other nipple into his mouth, his expert tongue teasing me exactly how he knows will get a reaction from me .
My back arches, and I can feel him smile against my skin. “And these,” he says before nipping at me again. “Also, mine.”
Repositioning himself, he settles between my legs, and the head of his cock teases my slick entrance. “This too,” he says, his voice dragging out of him. Bringing his mouth to my ear, he moves his thick head over my clit, and I gasp. “It’s all mine, Margot. Every taste, every touch, every moan that comes from that pretty mouth. Do you understand?”
I nod, but I can’t take much more of this. “All of me is yours,” I pant and press against him, desperate to be filled.
Jackson groans like my words physically do something to him and goes back to massaging my clit with his cock. “Good girl.” His voice is low in my ear and followed by his mouth on my neck as he spreads my shaking legs further. “And I’m yours,” he says as he finally presses against my opening. “I will never stop being yours.”
He eases in, inch by delicious inch, stretching me in the best way. My head presses back against the pillow, and I relish in the feeling of being his again. He feels so good— too good. The pressure of him inside me satisfies my aching need, and once he’s fully rooted, I roll my hips to feel him deeper.
Jackson curses under his breath. “Fuck, you feel good.”
I nod, agreeing with him , and roll my hips again. Our chemistry has always been undeniable this way, and when we started dating, it got more intense. But now? Now that I know he loves me and he knows I love him, it’s even better.
Jackson starts to move, and I feel all of him. My nails dig into his skin, and I never want this closeness between us to stop. Every time he thrusts into me, I’m desperate to pull him deeper. He moves slow and deliberate, like he wants this to last as much as I do.
In.
Out.
In .
Out.
With every thrust, he hits deep enough to make me cry out. My hands knot in his hair as he swallows the sounds I make and thrusts into me harder. My legs tighten around him, holding him to me, and he groans. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you?”
“Please,” I beg, my eyes rolling back as he hits deep again.
“Fuck, Margot. It’s been months, you can’t beg like that and expect me to last.” His head falls forward like he’s trying to collect himself, so I roll my hips again to grind against him deeper.
I’m so close. Everything inside my body is wound tight. All I need is for him to let go and fuck me harder. I need to feel him stiffen and pour into me. I need to feel him claim me. I need to be his. I need him to make me his again. “Jackson, fuck me like I’m yours. Please.”
With a possessive hand on my throat, he picks up the pace, slamming into me harder. He doesn’t swallow my cries anymore, and I know it’s because he’s watching. He’s watching what he does to me, and I can’t take how good it all feels. My walls clench around his cock, and he fucks me into oblivion. I cry out his name as I shatter around him, and with one final thrust, he comes deep inside me, finding his release.
He stays there while he brushes my hair gently out of my face and peppers kisses across my neck and throat. I think he’s worried he gripped me too tight as he spilled into me, but even that felt good. Everything with Jackson feels good.
“I love you,” he whispers against my skin. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”