Rose #2
I'm not a switch. I have never in my life wanted to be underneath, held down, commanded. But pinned to this bed with his mouth on me and his hands shackling my wrists, I don't feel trapped. The desire to submit to him overwhelms me in a way I’d never have expected and it lights me on fire.
I’m strung so tight my muscles burn as I struggle to breathe.
“You’re so close, baby. Come for me.”
All at once, it explodes, a cascade of pleasure rolling down my spine and rippling through me.
"Fuck—" The release pulls a broken sound from my lungs as endless spasms rack my body. Jackson draws it out, wringing everything from me until the last aftershock has passed.
"You taste so fucking amazing when you come." He swipes his tongue over my center one last time, tugging the barbell just to watch me jolt, then crawls back up the bed and settles on his forearms above me.
“Hi, baby.” He leans down and kisses my chin, then my lips, softer now, and something about the sudden tenderness after everything that just happened makes my chest squeeze.
His eyes move over my face like he’s checking that I’m still here, still with him.
“I’m not done with you. I just need to look at you for a minute. ”
I smile before I can stop myself. “Hi.”
His grin spreads, stupid and beautiful and so completely Jackson that for a second I forget every reason this should be complicated.
“There she is.”
“You’re staring.”
“Yeah. I am.”
I hold his gaze and run my thumb along his cheek. “I love you too, Jackson. I’ve always loved you too.”
His eyes flutter closed, and he rests his forehead against mine. For a second neither of us moves. Then a tear hits my cheek.
Before I can look at him properly, he buries his face in my neck.
I don't say anything. I let him hide and just kiss his shoulder, then his neck, and slide my fingers into the hair at the back of his head, holding him there while he gets himself together.
And for once, I don't argue with the word that settles into me.
Mine.
He lifts his head and moves his mouth against mine. His lips are salty from his tears, and there's a quiet intensity to it that pulls a shuddering exhalation from my lungs. He breathes it in like it's his.
I let out a soft moan, and it unleashes him.
The softness of the moment is gone as his fingers roughly grip my face, deepening the kiss. We're starving for each other. That’s the only way to put it.
Another wave of desperate ache claws through me, and I use my feet to shove his shorts and briefs down his thighs until I feel the slap of his cock on my stomach.
The sound that rips out of his throat isn't a word. It’s feral, and there’s something so primal about the way he’s touching me.
I can barely function. My bones have left the building. I reach between us and wrap my hand around his length, and his whole body jerks like I pulled a wire loose.
Our night together all those years ago was one night and gone — he was a boy with a box of condoms and a dream. The man braced above me now is something else entirely, and I'm salivating to feel him.
"Are you sure?" His voice has gone to gravel. He's holding himself so still I can feel him vibrating with it, every muscle locked, waiting on my word.
Even now. Even like this. He waits for my word.
Fuck. I'm in so much trouble.
I lift my hips until the head of his cock grazes my entrance.
"So. Fucking. Sure."
He kisses me slowly as he starts to ease in. I open my thighs wider, but the plain fact is he's a lot of man and it's been a long time. We managed this once before, but somehow he feels massive now, and my breath stutters as my body fights the stretch.
My eyes squeeze shut.
"I've got you, baby." His lips brush mine. "Relax for me. You were made for me. You've always been mine." Another kiss. Another inch. He works into me slow and patient, murmuring against my mouth the whole way, until finally, finally, he's fully seated, and we both go still.
"God." It comes out a gasp. "I don't remember feeling this full before."
"You're good for my ego, old lady."
My mouth drops open in mock outrage, and he laughs — actually laughs, buried to the hilt inside me — then pulls out, plunges back in, and turns my indignation into a scream.
"Fuck, you're so tight."
"You feel so good," I slur, too far gone to manage anything smarter.
He shifts his hips, rolls back, thrusts in again.
Now that he’s inside of me, he’s so careful and controlled.
His entire body is shuddering with the effort, and I know exactly what he's doing.
He's on top, and he thinks that this time is borrowed.
He's holding back. We've learned a lot about each other since the last time we were together like this, and I hate that he's treating me like I'm fucking fragile.
I don't want careful.
I reach up and put my palm against his face.
"Look at me, Jackson."
His eyes open. He's so fucking beautiful it pisses me off.
"Let him out, baby. Unleash him." I hold his gaze and nod. "You won't hurt me. You're the only one I've ever trusted like this. You know that."
"Rose. No. I can’t."
"Jackson." I slap him across the cheek, and the crack of it echoes off the walls. "Let. Him. Out."
For a second, there’s nothing.
Then his eyes come back to mine, and the blue is mostly gone, swallowed dark, and the look on his face tells me exactly who I've unleashed.
Fuck, I've missed him.
"Yes. Yes, baby. Please." I drag my nails down his chest, and his back bows.
"Fuuuckkk."
He drags himself upright, spreads my legs wide, and buries himself deep with one hard thrust.
The cry wrenches out of my lungs before I can own it, and his growl floods my body with heat. His hand wraps around my throat and he fucks me hard, pounding me into the mattress. He's rabid. Exactly how I need him.
Then he flips me over like a fucking ragdoll, hauls my thighs back against him and slaps my ass hard.
"God!"
The next blow lands on the other cheek. Then blow after blow until I'm screaming into the sheets, and then he spreads me open and rains slap after slap against my clit until I'm shaking through an earthquake of an orgasm.
"That's it. Fucking scream for me." He snatches my head back by a fistful of hair. "You like being my fucking pet, don't you, Rosepetal?"
"Yes." It tears out of me. His hold tightens, the sting in my scalp is spreading as he starts rutting into me again. "Fuck. Fuck, Jack!"
His nails score down my back, and I fist the sheets.
"You like it when I leave my mark on you. Claim you." He thrusts hard. "Mine." Then his thumb presses against the ring of my ass, his saliva falling warm between my cheeks, before he pushes all the way in.
"Right there! Oh, God, right there!"
"Fuck, Rosepetal. You just clenched the fuck out of my cock. I forgot how much you love me playing with this little asshole of yours."
He slides his thumb in and out to match the rhythm of his thrusts, and I combust. The rush of liquid hits my thighs and the bed as I scream a sound I have never made in my life.
Not once. Not with anyone.
"Goddamn. My perfect fucking whore. Look at the mess you made. We're not done yet, though."
I'm not going to survive this.
That's the last coherent thought I manage before his thrusts turn punishing, and the room dissolves into his growls, my screams and the wet slap of skin.
Suddenly my knees leave the bed. My ass is airborne, his hands locked on my hips while he fucks up into me, and my legs are just useless things flopping beneath me while I'm being impaled.
"I love how fucking tiny you are. Give me another one. I'm close. I need one more."
I'd give him ten. I'd give him anything. I'll panic about that later.
Something about the angle has him impossibly deep, and my orgasm comes for me hard and fast, just busting through the fucking doors.
"Fuck. Fuck." He drops me onto the bed writhing, and jet after jet of hot cum hits my back.
My thighs are trembling so hard you'd swear I was freezing instead of burning alive.
And somewhere underneath the wreckage of me, one thought surfaces, clear and extremely fucking inconvenient: There's no box for this one.