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Then again, it already did. Once. I take some comfort from that fact as I draw a deep breath.
Jackson pushes a finger deep inside of me. My breath leaves me in a hiss.
“Relax,” he tells me as he pushes in another finger.
I don’t know how. Still, I tell myself to calm down.
“Does it hurt?” Jackson asks.
“No,” I answer.
I know it’s tight where his fingers are, and it feels a little weird to have something down there, but there’s no pain.
Jackson withdraws his fingers. After a few seconds, I feel a wet, firm knob of flesh prodding between my legs.
“Here I come.”
He pushes the tip in slowly and I gasp as I feel myself getting stretched. I purse my lips and hold my breath as he keeps pushing, filling me little by little.
“Are you alright?” Jackson asks me.
I open my mouth, about to complain about how big he is, about the tinge of discomfort I’m feeling, but then I see the look on his face. I see the beads of sweat on his forehead. I see the tension in his jaw. In his eyes, I can see smoldering desire, but it’s tempered by concern.
He’s holding back. He’s doing it for me.
The thought fills me with warmth and courage.
“Don’t worry about me,” I tell him with a smile. “I’ve done this before, remember?”
Jackson grins. “But I thought you didn’t.”
“I’ll be fine,” I assure him. “It’s your turn now, remember?”
He shakes his head. “It’s our turn.”
He bends over to kiss me tenderly and whatever fears I have left evaporate. I place one arm around him. My other hand strokes his hair.
With his lips still on mine, Jackson continues to move, a little faster this time. With a few jerks of his hips, he fills me to the brim. Afterwards, he lifts his head and pauses to catch his breath. I just stare at him, taking a moment to savor the feel of him deep inside me, of our bodies connected as one.
When he throbs inside me, ripples of heat flow through my veins. I give him a squeeze.
“Aren’t you going to move?” I ask him with a grin.
Jackson chuckles, then moves off me and grips my thighs.
“You asked for it.”
He starts out slowly, so slowly that I almost feel like he’s teasing me. I’m about to tell him to speed up when he does just that. He starts pounding into me. His cock rubs against other pleasure buttons which I never knew existed but which send fresh swirls of heat through my chest and my belly.
I close my eyes and grip Jackson’s shoulders as I surrender to this new wave of pleasure, somehow not as sharp as earlier but still good, maybe even better. This thrill isn’t like an assault on the senses. It’s gentle, like a song lulling me into the depths of an abyss, urging me to fall over.
Jackson moves even faster. Beneath me, I hear the bed creak. Above me, I hear him panting in between grunts. I can feel his balls slapping against my skin. I feel myself getting wetter and hotter around him.
“Cathy,” he says my name in what seems like agony. “I’m co…”
I don’t hear the rest because I finally fall into the abyss. As Jackson’s hips jerk sporadically, I move my own. When he buries himself deep inside me, I cling to him with trembling arms. As he grunts, I let out soft cries. As his cock spills, I feel floodgates break open inside me as well, my heat mingling with his.
For a moment, we stay still, gasping for air in the silence. Then Jackson bends over to press a kiss to my forehead and pulls his cock out of me.
Only then do I open the eyes I’ve squeezed shut. I see Jackson tucking his cock back into his boxers and zipping up his pants. He leaves the button undone, though. As for me, I’m too tired to put my clothes back on. I can’t even put my bra back on, so I just slip it off my arms and toss it aside.
Jackson glances at my breasts, then narrows his eyes at me. “Are you tempting me again?”
“No,” I answer weakly.
He sighs. “At least move under the covers. You’ll catch a cold.”
I do that with his help, then pull the covers up to my chin. Jackson lies down beside me.
I turn my head to look at him. “Thank you.”
He meets my gaze. “For what?”
“For bringing me to Trisha’s grave,” I say. “For helping me say goodbye. For helping me realize that I should be living for her instead of letting myself die with her.”
Jackson shakes his head and grasps my chin. “I only did what I think she would have wanted me to do. And I only wanted you to be happy, or at least, feel less lonely.”
