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My orgasm exploded from deep inside of me, rolling through my entire body. My toes curled into the hard floors as I fisted the white comforter, hanging on and riding out the intense wave of pleasure. My pussy pulsed as Jackson continued to cover the entrance with his tongue, the sensation almost too much.
“Ooh,” I panted, my legs nearly giving way as I came down from the high. Jackson leaned away and stood to his feet. His cock brushed against me, and I shivered, apprehensive for what was to come.
But instead of shoving inside me, he pulled me back to standing, spinning me around to face him. His eyes were dilated as our gaze locked and he ran his tongue along his lips. Threading a hand through my hair, he dragged my mouth to his, giving me a taste of myself as he kissed me with a possession he hadn’t before.
His hands roamed my body, taking in the curvature of my hips. I probably should’ve worked out more, but I pushed the insecurity away as he lifted me into the air. He stumbled backward, not stopping until I was pinned against the wall.
“I wanna fuck you like this,” he growled into my mouth, my legs wrapped around his waist. He reached down between us and within seconds, his cock plunged deep inside of me. I cried out in surprise, but Jackson didn’t stop, thrusting into me harder.
I clung to him, threading my fingers through his messy hair. Our bodies were covered in sweat as he moved, my legs trapping the heat between us. I leaned my head back against the wall as he slammed into me, rattling the pictures so hard I thought they might fall.
My nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, but if it hurt him, he didn’t say. His head stayed buried in my neck, kissing and sucking on my skin as he fucked with sheer force. My pussy stretched, taking every inch of him over and over, and as much as it felt like almost too much, it was also driving me right toward the edge of another orgasm.
“Fuck,” he groaned, leaning away from me. He locked into my gaze as he continued to thrust his hips, and my chest swirled with emotions as I saw the desire there in his eyes. He came closer, brushing his nose against mine.
And I let out a whimper, coming a second time as his hot breath tickled my skin. “Jackson…” I moaned, and he responded, taking my lips with his as he continued to fuck me, never slowing. The sensation was intense, and I found myself breaking from a moan to a near scream as he finally came to stop, his entire body shuddering from his own climax.
“Lena,” he murmured into the nape of my neck as we stayed in the moment, still intertwined. His lips pressed against my sweaty skin, lingering as our breaths deepened and slowed.
My heart stuttered in my chest as I realized the gravity of sleeping with Jackson again. It was such a high, but the aftermath always had me feeling a mixture of complicated emotions—and I blamed my lack of flings for it. Jackson probably could sleep with someone and never have an attachment, but I had to battle myself not to create one.
Even if I didn’t like him.
“I should probably get dressed,” I finally said, tapping his shoulder lightly.
“Yeah, probably,” he chuckled, gently setting me down. “If you stay naked like that, I’m just gonna fuck you all night long.”
My eyes widened as I blushed, but I dismissed him. “Yeah, right.”
“Yeah, it is right,” he teased, grabbing my hand and pulling me back to him as I tried to walk away. “You’re like a drug, Lena. I can’t get enough sex from you.”
“Good to know.” I tugged my arm from him, sweeping up the clothes and heading for the bathroom. I shut the door and locked it, needing a minute to get myself together. I cleaned up and got dressed, stopping to stare at myself in the mirror.
I looked tired. And definitely sexed up.
Doing my best, I smoothed out my hair and then stepped out of the bathroom, his T-shirt nearly making it to my knees and hiding the boxers underneath.
“That’s a good look on you,” Jackson said from the bed, where he’d slipped on a different pair of boxers. “You hungry or anything?”
“Aren’t you supposed to take me home?” I eyed him uneasily. Every time we’d ever had sex, that seemed to be the solution—leaving like it hadn’t happened at all.
“Uh, I can.” He sat up from where he was leaning on the black wooden headboard. “But I was kind of hoping to show you the music room. I think you’ll really like it.”
I nodded, smiling. “Okay, yeah. Show me the music room.”
That seemed to make him happy, and he bounded off the bed, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the door. I laughed as Jackson nearly dragged me down the hall a couple of doorways.
“I don’t usually let people in here—except for Nel, Aaron, and Tyson. But most of the time we do stuff at Tyson’s place. But this”—he opened the door—“is where I write most of my songs.”
I stepped into the room, my mouth dropping. “Oh my god, it’s heaven.” My eyes took in the rows of guitars hanging on the walls, the recording booth in the corner, and the grand piano in the other. There were a few posters of his band, but other than that, it was nothing but music.
“It’s soundproofed in here,” Jackson said, sounding like a tour guide as he shut the door behind us. “I had it designed for the best acoustics too. The flooring came from a small company in London.”
“That sounds expensive,” I giggled, making my way toward the piano in the corner. “I’ve always wanted to have a grand piano of my own.”
“You don’t have one? Seems kind of crazy given how talented you are.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Thanks…but no, you’ve been to my house. I can’t afford a piano like that. Plus, even if I could, it wouldn’t fit.”
