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There. That should be enough. I came really good. I’m hot and breathless, and my body is relaxing. I collapse on my back, closing my eyes and trying to enjoy the little aftershocks of pleasure.
I doze off pretty quick, but I dream about Jackson’s strong arms and stern voice and wake up a couple of hours later with my heart hammering.
Damn it. What the hell is wrong with me? I shouldn’t be like this.
I’m going to have to get myself off again.
Or else...
With a groan, I roll out of bed, light my candle, and walk down the hall to his room. I let myself in, and the board on my third step squeaks.
Before I know what’s happening, Jackson is out of bed. Naked and aiming a gun at me the way he did the very first time.
He blinks when he realizes who it is, the alarm on his face relaxing. “Faith? Jesus, what— Is everything all right?”
This isn’t how he responds to my presence in his room. He never acts surprised. He never questions it. We just do what we do and move on.
But he’s shocked tonight. He didn’t expect me. It’s too soon. I shouldn’t be here. We fucked last night, and I’m not supposed to come back so soon.
For some reason, his reaction mortifies me. I made a mistake in coming here, and now I’m exposed, embarrassed, eager. Too young.
With a snarl that’s mostly protecting my raw feelings, I turn on my heel and start to stride out of the room. I never should have done this.
“Faith, wait.” He follows me, grabbing my arm before I can reach the door and swinging me back around.
I stare up at him, the candle in my hand wavering.
He takes it from me and puts it on the table where I usually leave it. Then he tilts his head down, searching my face with a strange urgency.
Maybe he’s trying to figure me out. He’s not going to get very far since I can’t even figure myself out.
Then he rasps out one word. “Kitten.” Right before he pushes me up against the wall and kisses me hard.
I should be annoyed by the mocking nickname, but I’m not. Irrationally, it gets me really hot. I grab for his neck and open to the kiss, and before I know it, I’m wrapping one leg high around his thighs and grinding my aching pussy against his leg.
He wasn’t hard when he started the kiss, but he is now. I can feel his cock pressing against me as his tongue thrusts into my mouth and his hands cup my bare bottom under my gown. The gown evidently gets in his way because he impatiently tears it off, breaking the kiss to pull it off over my head.
I’m not sure which of us starts the process, but pretty soon I’m parting my legs so he can bend his knees and line his cock up at my entrance. He pushes in as he lifts me up, holding me firm against the wall as my legs wrap all the way around him.
I gasp with pleasure at the thick, tight penetration. I toss my head against the wall as he holds us completely still. He’s panting against my neck, and I’m dying for him.
“Move, Jackson,” I demand in a harsh whisper. “Please. Fuck me hard.”
He makes a guttural sound as he starts to pump his hips. I’m trapped between the wall and his body, so I can only take what he gives me. He works up a strong, vigorous rhythm of tight thrusts, and I squeeze him with my arms, legs, and pussy. Our panting turns into soft, animalistic grunts as we work up momentum, and I bite down hard on his bare shoulder as I come in deep, powerful spasms.
I’ve barely come down when he’s carrying me over to the bed, parting my legs, and kneeling between them so he can fuck me again in a different position. This time I can see him better, and he can see me spread out naked and completely exposed to his view.
I can’t lie still. It’s like I’m possessed by a shameless stranger. I fondle my own breasts as he fucks me, tweaking my nipples until it almost hurts. Then I rub my clit until I’m fluttering around his cock, but he doesn’t stop fucking me. His eyes rake up and down over my body like he’s trying to swallow up everything he sees.
My head tosses restlessly on the mattress. My hair gets in my face. My body is raw and wild and achingly needy. I come again. He lowers my ass and folds my body until my ankles are hooked on his shoulders. Then he starts up again until I’m sobbing and muffling the sound against his chest.
This time when I come, he lets out a strangled sound like he’s about to lose control. He adjusts our positions, freeing my legs and pulling his cock out just in time to come on my stomach.
After he’s worked out the spasms of his climax, he falls onto the bed beside me, looking just as worn and exhausted as I feel.
I can’t move for a few minutes. I literally cannot move except to gasp out my breaths.
That core-deep craving has finally been answered though. This was what I needed all along.
The candle is flickering in the dark. I wipe sweat off my face and his semen off my belly with the sheet. I try to find the will to get up and go back to my own room so I can finally get some sleep.
Still breathing unevenly, he turns his head in my direction. “Y’okay?”
I don’t answer the question. For some reason, it embarrasses me.
I manage to leave after that.
