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I forget the rest.
PLAYLIST II
I’m In Love With You - The 1975
touch tank - quinnie
God Is Fair, Sexy Nasty - Mac Miller (feat Kendrick Lamar)
Electric - Alina Baraz, Khalid
Love on the brain - Rihanna
Throw Me Around - That band Honey.
Stay - Mac Miller
Garden (Say It Like Dat) - SZA
It Will Come Back - Hozier
Tenerife Sea - Ed Sheeran
13
LUNA
Oscar Jackson kisseslike he talks.
Soft and slow and always leaving me wanting more in the most gloriously frustrating way.
I’ve never been one to feel… breakable. To be treated as such.Delicateis not a word often—or ever—used to describe me and yet, that is exactly how Oscar Jackson treats me. Like I might shatter beneath the gentle thumb sliding along my cheekbone, the fingers cupping my face reverently, with a foreign softness that’s as unnerving as it is exhilarating.
God, a girl could get used to this.
Which is exactly why I need him to stop.
I pride myself on my ability to make a man lose his mind, and never have I needed to pull through more than now. Rising on my toes, I eliminate the concept of distance between us, pressing myself as close as humanly possible. When I bury my hands in his hair, nails scraping his scalp, Jackson groans into my mouth, and just like that, a flip switches.
It’s like he’s suddenly possessed. RIP sweet Jackson, hello… well, not sweet Jackson. Dirty Jackson. Rough Jackson. Kinda Slutty Jackson.
Makes Me Wanna Rip His Clothes Off Jackson.
Teeth spear my bottom lip demandingly, and when I gasp at the contact, Jackson uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, tangling with mine, fighting a battle I’m suddenly not sure I want to win. He kisses me desperately, full of want and lust, and I can barely keep up. If it weren’t for the hand resting on the small of my back, the other palming the curve of my neck, I fear I’d fall to the floor, shock and desire sending me there.
That hand shifts, settling high on my throat and exuding just enough pressure to tilt my head for better access yet still holding complete control over me. The possessive touch sends a zing down my spine, pooling in the pit of my stomach, awakening a fierce burn that I’m positive only Jackson can douse.
And I’m confused. I’m so fucking confused, my inner monologue a chant ofwhat the fuck what the fuck what the fuckbecause where has this come from? Who the fuck is this? It’s been weeks of gentle but obvious flirting and you’re telling me all it took was a little bit of straight-talking to getthisout of him?
A wanton moan leaves me when his touch drifts to my ass, yanking the hem of my skirt up and out of the way so he can palm the bare skin underneath hungrily. Like his kiss, his touch is anything but gentle as he kneads the soft flesh, fingers digging in hard enough to leave evidence. Calloused fingers travel upwards and hook around the band of my panties, a yelp escaping me when he snaps the fabric against my skin.
Unfortunately, the noise snaps him out of his lusty haze.
With a deep groan, he pulls away from me, expression twisted as though it physically pains him to pry his lips from mine. Our heavy breaths mingle in the air, chests rising and falling in unison, the heat of his skin bleeding through me as he rests his forehead against mine. I try to lean in again only to be denied by the hand on my neck tightening, restricting my movement and his strained, husky voice.
“Fuck.” Jackson releases me, pushes me away slightly, the back of his head hitting the door behind him with a thud. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“The only thing you should be sorry about is stopping.”
