Chapter 43 #2
“Fuck, I missed this,” he rasps. “Missed this pretty pussy. Missed how wet you get for me.”
He settles lower, shoulders spreading my thighs, and presses an open-mouthed kiss right where I need him most. The first slow drag of his tongue pulls a broken moan from my throat. He doesn’t rush, he licks and sucks with devastating focus, humming praise into my folds like a prayer.
“That’s it… let me hear you. So sweet. So good for me. Gonna make you feel every second of this.”
Two thick fingers slide into me, curling just right, and my hips jerk. The stretch is already so good, but I know what’s coming. He works me open patiently, mouth never leaving my clit, until I’m panting and clenching around him, chasing the edge.
When he finally pulls back, lips shiny, eyes wild with that mix of hunger and fear, I’m trembling.
“Jackson… please.”
He sheds the rest of his clothes and my breath catches all over again. He’s the biggest of them, thick, heavy, the kind of size that always makes my body have to remember how to take him. The head of his cock is flushed dark, already leaking as he fists himself once, twice.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs, reading the flicker in my eyes. “I’ve got you. Gonna go slow.”
He notches himself at my entrance and pushes in, inch by careful, shuddering inch.
The stretch burns in the best way, that full, overwhelming pressure that only he gives me.
My walls flutter and yield around his girth, and the sensation of being opened up like this again, claimed, filled, rips a whimper from me.
“Oh god… you’re so big,” I gasp, nails digging into his shoulders. “But it feels… so good. Don’t stop.”
“Jesus, Lia,” he groans, voice cracking as he bottoms out, hips flush with mine. He stays there, buried deep, forehead pressed to mine, breathing hard. “You feel like heaven. Tight and perfect and mine. I can feel you squeezing me, fuck, I almost lost this. Almost lost you.”
Tears prick my eyes at the raw emotion in his voice.
He starts to move, slow, rolling thrusts that drag against every sensitive spot inside me, building heat and pressure in a lazy, devastating rhythm.
One hand braces beside my head, the other strokes my hair, my cheek, my throat, grounding me with every touch.
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Taking me so beautifully. Look at you… letting me love you like this. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
The words sink into me like warm honey, melting the last of my hesitation.
I let go, surrender completely to the feeling of him moving inside me, to the slow drag and push, to the way his body covers mine protectively even while desire makes his rhythm grow just a fraction deeper, a little more desperate.
He keeps talking, voice rough and reverent between kisses. “That’s my girl. Feel how deep I am? This pussy was made for me. So wet, so hot… you’re clenching so pretty around my cock. Gonna give you everything you need, sweetheart. Everything.”
The coil tightens low in my belly, winding tighter with every thrust, every word.
My hands slide down his back, feeling the flex of muscle, the slight tremble that tells me he’s holding back for me.
I wrap my legs around his hips, urging him closer, and he answers with a broken sound, hips snapping just a little harder before he catches himself and slows again.
When the orgasm finally crashes over me it’s devastating, wave after wave of blinding pleasure that rips through every nerve.
My back arches, a sob tearing from my throat as tears spill hot down my temples.
It’s too much, too intense, the release unlocking every emotion I’ve been stuffing down.
The fear, the relief, the grief, the love.
I cry through it, shaking, clenching around him so hard he curses softly, hips stuttering as he fights to keep control.
“That’s it… let it out, sweetheart. I’ve got you. Come for me. So beautiful when you fall apart like this.”
He rides me through it, murmuring praise until the last shudder leaves me limp and gasping, tears still slipping free.
Only then does Jackson let himself go.
His thrusts grow deeper, a little rougher, but still so careful of my side.
His breathing turns ragged, forehead pressed to mine, and suddenly his shoulders shake.
A low, wrecked sound escapes him as he comes, thick, pulsing heat flooding deep inside me.
Tears slip from his eyes too, tracking down his cheeks as he buries his face in my neck.
“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, voice breaking completely.
“I’m so fucking sorry I haven’t given you what you needed.
I was scared… so goddamn scared. I felt you slipping away in my arms and I.
..I love you, Lia. I love you more than anything.
I almost lost you. I won’t. I won’t ever lose you again. Never.”
He holds me tight as the aftershocks roll through both of us, bodies locked together, hearts hammering against each other. I stroke his hair, whispering his name until his breathing evens out.
When he finally eases out of me, he doesn’t go far, just shifts to lie beside me, pulling me carefully into his arms.
His lips brush gently over the tattoo, the scars forming there from what Paul tried to cut from me.
“He tried to cut this gift from your body. He tried to remove me from you.” He murmurs, almost to himself.
“But he didn’t. Your words are still there. You are always a part of me Jackson.” I whisper, emotion catching in my throat as he kisses the tender skin.
One big hand slides down to rest over my lower belly, palm warm and protective over the tiny secret we’re still so early with, barely seven weeks.
His thumb strokes slow circles there, and his voice is soft, awed, still thick with emotion.
“I love you,” he murmurs against my hair. “Both of you. Can’t wait to start this family with you, sweetheart. Can’t wait to see you round with our baby. You’re gonna be the most beautiful mama.”
I cover his hand with mine, fresh tears, gentle ones this time, slipping free as I smile into the curve of his neck.
We stay like that, tangled and breathing each other in, the fear and distance finally burned away in the slow, desperate fire we just lit between us.