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It's his eyes that really change. They harden and gleam with someone wicked. It’s the tense, dominant power rolling off him. It's his voice as he asks, slowly, calmly, deadly, “Are you going to fuck him?“
Say no,my inner voice begs me. The angel on my shoulder, or maybe my self-preservation skills.
But I can't help it.
I shrug.
Despite the fact I wouldn’t touch Owen with a ten-foot-pole anymore, I fucking shrug because provoking Jackson is too damn fun. Too damn rewarding. Which is why I push harder, challenging him and that pesky self-control. “A girl has needs.”
Oh, does that work.
In the blink of an eye, Jackson is on his feet and stalking towards me. Predator and prey, he forces me to take a step back, then another and another until my back bumps against the wall. No, a door. My ajar bedroom door. Jackson shoves it open and keeps advancing until my calves hit my bed and I’m forced to sit.
My breath catches in my throat as Jackson towers over me. Goosebumps erupt as his knuckles brush a path down my cheek. “I know what you're doing, Luna.”
I grasp my bedsheet with a death grip. “What am I doing?”
I don't get a reply. I get pushed onto my back, the hem of my t-shirt shoved up my thighs before I can blink and for a split second, a crack appears in Jackson’s demeanor. Lips curling, he snaps the waistband of my pale pink panties covered in a Hello Kitty print, a stark contrast to the usual lacy numbers I wear. A joke birthday present from the girls that became my favorite comfy pair.
When Jackson chuckles teasingly, I slap him upside the head. “Shut up.”
“I like them.” He ducks his head, and I inhale sharply when I feel his hot breath through the flimsy fabric. “You wear these for Owen?”
I try to retort but it dissolves into an open-mouthed moan when teeth nip my clit, and already-damp material is only made damper by a teasing tongue. Jackson something else but I don't catch it, too caught up in the zinging sensations shooting up my spine.
All of a sudden, I'm on my stomach, my confused yelp muffled as my face is buried in my bedsheets. The sound morphs into a moan when lips kiss a path down my bare back. Hands are suddenly everywhere, caressing, stroking, slapping, slipping my panties off. Heavy weight hovers over me, hips press into my ass, breath tickles my neck. “I said what needs, Luna?”
I don't reply. I can't reply. I'm too focused on the hard cock digging into me, begging for some attention. And I beg for some of my own, with a low moan and a thrust of my hips.
“You wanna get fucked?” Jackson croons, teeth nipping at my racing pulse point, tough darting out to ease the sting. “You need me to fuck you?”
Like I need oxygen.
When I glance over my shoulder, Jackson is right there, his nose brushing mine, our breaths mingling. “Please.”
Calloused fingers graze my skin, sweeping my hair back from my face. “So pretty when you beg.”
“Please.”
“No.“ He punctuates the single word with a harsh, stinging slap on the ass. “Maybe when you learn how to fucking behave.”
“But-”
The argument I know I shouldn’t make but can’t fucking help is cut off when rough, demanding hands guide me upright, positioning me on my knees, spreading my thighs. “Up.”
I rise up on shaky knees. Without warning, he slides underneath me and tugs me down onto his face, his tongue slipping inside me before I can even fathom what's happening.
My legs give out almost immediately. Falling forward, I clutch the headboard, holding on tight as he fucks me with his tongue. Two fingers spread me open, baring me completely to him, a third joining his tongue and eddying my mind of all coherent thoughts. “Holy fucking shit.”
The sounds echoing around the room are obscene. Wet, sloppy sounds. Moans and groans. My neighbor probably thinks I'm making porn but I can't find it in me to care, not whenhe'sin me.
So many curses fall from my lips, intertwined with praises to Jackson's name. I find purchase in his hair, tugging hard, and that seems to only spur him on, his tongue and fingers plunging in and out of me just as manically as I'm writhing on his face.
I come quick, so hard I almost pass out. I lose all feeling and control in my legs. I briefly worry I'm crushing Jackson but he seems pretty fucking happy, still lapping away at me like a man on a mission.
I moan, long and pained, as he licks and nips and caresses until I can’t take it anymore. I try to rise, desperate for a break, even for just a second, but he just yanks me down again, arms wrapped around my thighs tightly so I can't move, fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to bruise, and I swear I can hear his voice in my ear, a ghost of a whisper from the first night we spent together.I didn’t say you could stop.
I think I might be sobbing.
