35. Aliyah
ALIYAH
"Come on." I tug Jackson toward our bedroom. "Let's get you cleaned up."
He follows me without protest, though I think he just doesn't want to be separated from me. I flip on the bathroom light and start the shower. Steam fills the air as I turn back to him, helping him out of his blood-stained shirt. My fingers trace the stitches on his shoulder.
Jackson catches my hands, drawing them up to his face. His dark eyes lock onto mine. "I've had worse. Stop worrying."
The tenderness in his touch, the way he's trying to comfort me even when he's hurting - it hits me all at once. The walls I've built, the distance I've kept, they all come crashing down.
"I love you." The words spill out before I can stop them. "I know you said it first during that fight and I ran, but I'm done running. You make me feel safe in a world where I never let my guard down. You see past my masks, past all my defenses, and you're still here."
His expression remains stoic but his hands tighten on mine. "Aliyah..."
"No, let me finish. I've spent my whole life using people's secrets against them, keeping everyone at arm's length. But you - you crashed through every barrier I put up. And instead of using my weaknesses against me, you became my strength."
Jackson pulls me closer, his forehead resting against mine.
The steam swirls around us as his thumb traces my cheekbone.
When he kisses me, it's different from before - slower, deeper, filled with everything we've left unsaid.
There's no power play, no battle for control.
Just us, finally letting our guards down together.
When we break apart, he looks me deep into my eyes. "I love you, angel. With everything I've got. I couldn't stop if I tried."
I grin, cupping his face. "I love you, too."
His lips move against mine, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every touch. My hands glide over his skin, warm and rough beneath my palms. I trace the hard planes of his chest and the dips of his abs, earning me a groan that lets me deepen the kiss.
Jackson’s good arm wraps around my waist, lifting me effortlessly onto the edge of the bathroom counter. The cold marble bites into my thighs, but I don’t care. My focus is on him, on the way his dark eyes burn into mine, like he’s trying to memorize every detail.
His calloused fingers slide under the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. The air between us feels charged, electric, but there’s no rush. Only the slow, deliberate rhythm of two people who’ve finally stopped running.
His hand traces the curve of my waist, and I reach for the waistband of his pants, my fingers fumbling slightly as I unbuckle his belt and push them down.
He steps out of them, never breaking eye contact.
There’s something raw in his gaze, something vulnerable I’ve never seen before.
It’s like he’s letting me in, past the walls he’s built, past the cold exterior he shows the world.
His other arm hangs at his side, the shoulder too tender to move, but he doesn’t need it.
His free hand slides up my thigh, his touch firm but gentle, as if he’s afraid I might disappear.
He leans in, his lips brushing against the hollow of my neck, and I tilt my head back, giving him more access.
His teeth graze my skin, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make me gasp.
My hands slide up his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm.
It matches the wild rhythm of my own. I tug at the edge of his boxers, and he steps back just enough to let them fall to the floor.
My breath catches at the sight of him - all hard muscle and scars, his body a map of battles fought and won.
He returns to me, his good arm bracing against the counter as he kisses me again, deeper this time.
His other hand finds the clasp of my bra, and with a flick of his fingers, it’s undone.
The cool air hits my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his body pressing against mine.
My bra falls away, and his eyes drop to my chest, his expression softening for a moment before he leans in, his lips trailing down my collarbone.
His hand slides into the waistband of my jeans, unbuttoning them and then pinning me with a look.
I shift, shimmying them off as he watches me with a heated gaze, leaving me bare except for the thin fabric of my panties.
His fingers trace the edge, teasing, before he hooks them and pulls them down my legs.
He steps back, his gaze sweeping over me, and for the first time, I see something in his eyes that isn’t control or dominance.
It’s hunger, yes, but it’s also something deeper, something that makes my chest ache.
He’s looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters, like I’m the center of his world, and it’s overwhelming.
He closes the distance between us again, his lips crashing into mine.
His hand fists in my hair, tugging gently, and I moan into his mouth.
His other hand grips my thigh, lifting my leg to wrap around his waist. The movement pulls a hiss from him as pain shoots through his injured shoulder, but he doesn’t stop.
He shifts, careful not to put too much weight on it, and presses himself against me.
My hands roam his back, feeling the tension in his muscles as he holds himself back. He’s always been in control, always the one calling the shots, but now he’s letting me see him - really see him. And it’s everything.
His breath is warm against my skin as his lips trail down my neck, each kiss slow and deliberate.
I lean into him, my fingers tangling in his dark hair, pulling him closer.
Every touch feels electric, like we’re discovering each other all over again.
His hand skims up my thigh, sending a shiver through me, and I can’t help but smile.
“Jackson…” His name slips out, soft and breathless, as his mouth finds mine again. This kiss is different - slower, deeper, like he’s savoring every second. His tongue teases my lips, and I open for him, letting him take his time. There’s no rush, no urgency, just the two of us in this moment.
His hands move over my body, exploring every curve with a tenderness I’ve never felt from him before. It’s like he’s trying to memorize me, imprint every detail into his mind. His touch sends sparks racing through my veins, and I can’t suppress the soft moan that escapes me.
“You’re beautiful, angel,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice low and rough. His lips brush against my collarbone, his teeth grazing just enough to make me gasp. The sensation is intoxicating, and I arch into him, craving more.
I run my hands down his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath my fingertips.
His body is a map of scars and bruises, each one telling a story of the life he’s led.
But right now, none of that matters. All that matters is him, and me, and the way he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world.
“I love you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own heartbeat. His eyes meet mine, dark and intense, and for a moment, the world around us fades away.
“I love you too,” he replies, his voice thick with emotion. He kisses me again, slow and deep, and I feel it all the way to my core. His hands move to my hips, lifting me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me to the bed, the shower forgotten
He lays me down gently, his eyes never leaving mine.
His touch is soft but firm, his fingers tracing patterns over my skin that make me tremble.
Every kiss, every caress, feels like he’s pouring everything he’s feeling into me.
I reach up to cup his face, pulling him down for another kiss, and he groans softly, the sound vibrating against my lips.
“Jackson…” I breathe, my hands sliding down his back. He shifts, careful not to put too much weight on his injured shoulder, and presses himself against me. The sensation is overwhelming, and I clutch at him, my nails digging into his skin.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble in my ear. His hands grip my hips, guiding me, and I let him take control. The world narrows down to just us, to the feel of his body against mine, the sound of his breathing mingling with mine.
“I love you,” I whisper again, the words spilling out like a prayer. He kisses me hard in response, his movements growing more urgent but still controlled. Every touch, every movement, is filled with a raw intensity that leaves me breathless.
“I love you, angel,” he growls, his voice rough with emotion. His hands tighten on my hips as he moves, his eyes locked on mine. The connection between us is palpable, like an electric current that binds us together.
“Jackson,” I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders. His name is a mantra on my lips, a desperate plea and a declaration all at once. He kisses me again, swallowing my moans, and I feel myself unraveling beneath him.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl against my skin.
He moves faster, driving into me harder, I cling to him. I've fucked before but I have never made love and that is exactly what this feels like. His gaze holds mine as his hips stutter and I hold on, waiting for him to get to that point.
His jaw clenches and he drives into me with a deep groan that has me squeezing him hard as I hit my peak. Together, we find our release, holding on to each other until we have finally caught our breaths.
Then, I reach up, brushing the hair back from his face. "Shower now?"
A grin pulls at his lips. "Only if you join me."
"Always." I cup his face as he lifts me in his good arm and starts toward the bathroom. "I'll always be with you."