Her pussy gushed with eager anticipation. She’d gladly ride him, anytime. With trembling fingers, she tore open the packet and rolled the condom onto his stiff cock. Then she straddled his legs and lowered on to him, pinching her breasts as she savored every thick, delicious inch. He rested his hands atop her thighs to help guide her down, filling her completely with his deep penetration.
As soon as he was inside her again, Carla let her self-control slip away. She wrapped her arms around him, bringing his head against her chest. Jackson took her breast into his mouth, licking, teasing, nearly making her come with his tongue as he sucked her swollen nipple. She cried aloud, too crazed with desire to care if anyone outside the window could hear her.
She wove her fingers through his hair, arching her back and thrusting her breasts forward, wanting Jackson to eat her whole. She rode him hard and fast, then agonizingly slow, teasing him to madness. His fingers were wrapped against her ass, holding on. But as she approached orgasm, Jackson again stroked her clit, placing his palm against her tummy while using his middle finger to rub her slick core.
She cried out, grinding her hips against his cock as he caressed her. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she rode him, plunging again and again on his scorching shaft as she barreled toward release.
Jackson’s palm whisked out to slap her ass, once, twice, and then she exploded, the orgasm consuming her. She clutched his shoulders and shook, her clenching pussy milking his cock as he bucked his hips and thrust. Seconds later, he let out his own guttural growl and she felt the hot pulses of his cock inside of her as he let himself go.
She rested against him in the afterglow, inhaling his scent, feeling the sweat from his chest mingle with hers and the soft exhalations of his breath blowing across her skin. Their breathing was the only sound in the room apart from the evening songs from the birds, though that had begun to grow fainter as darkness approached. At last Carla stood and began picking up her discarded clothing.
She glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand, surprised the readout was nearly eight. They’d been at it for two hours? She chuckled beneath her breath?
“What’s so funny?”
Carla turned back to where Jackson still sat in the chair. “Nothing funny, really. But I don’t actually remember ever having sex for two straight hours.”
“Never?”
“Is two-hour sex nothing out of the ordinary for you?” She tried keeping her tone light and breezy, but despite her best intentions she wasn’t quick enough to drive away the clutch of illogical jealousy squeezing her heart. Who, exactly, had he had two-hour sex with?
“It used to not be, anyway,” he replied, and then instantly seemed to regret the comment. She waited for him to continue, but knew the effort was futile. Jackson went silent on her. Again.
She expelled a breath of frustration. “Look,” she said, pulling on her clothes, “I meant what I said earlier. I respect you and I won’t push you to tell me things you don’t want to.”
He muttered his thanks, but she heard the tension in his voice as he waited for her to continue. She sure wished she knew what the heck was with him.
“Just tell me one thing — how do I keep you from going hot and cold? You make me feel like I’m in danger any given second of saying something completely offensive, except I don’t even know what it is that offends you.”
“You don’t offend me.”
“But then why—”
He sighed like a man bone-weary from having the world’s grief on his shoulders. “You asked for a level of trust between us. I ask the same from you. You have to trust me there are some things you can’t know, but understand it’s nothing about you. I think you’re…” His voice trailed away and he shrugged, seemingly at a loss for words.
“I’m what?”
“I think you’re amazing.”
The combination of honesty and vulnerability etched on his face nearly broke Carla’s heart. She wished fervently that Jackson wasn’t closing himself off to her, that he could tell her about whatever tore him up inside. It had to be something tragic because when she looked into his eyes, she was saddened to see pain.
And not fresh pain, either, but rather one that seemed to have settled in for a good long time. If she were indeed looking through a portal to Jackson’s soul, what she saw was a man who suffered in silence. Her own eyes pooled with tears, wishing he’d tell her more but knowing he wouldn’t.
She swallowed against the tight lump in her throat. “Okay. Well, goodnight, Jackson.”
With heavy feet she started for the door. As she placed her hand on the knob and twisted, Jackson suddenly stopped her by placing his larger hand atop hers. He stood behind her so she couldn’t see him, but the warmth of his body pressed against hers.
“I know I’m not telling you what you want,” he said softly. “I hope you can accept that, because I still want you. Badly. There are just some things about me I don’t want to talk about.”
They stood that way for nearly a minute, Jackson behind her, his chest against her back, his hand atop hers. At last she nodded, accepting what he was able to give.
“I want you, too,” she said. “But since it’s a guessing game about what you will or won’t talk about, how ‘bout if you don’t go radio silent when I pick the wrong topic. I’m not doing anything intentional, so it’s not fair for you to act like I’ve just… Oh, I don’t know…stepped on your snakes or something.”
His soft chuckle tickled her ear. At last, a crack in his icy armor. “Ouch. You wouldn’t step on a guy’s snakes, now would you?”
His teasing was music to her ears, a soothing, comforting sound like a warm blanket wrapped around her heart.
“No, I wouldn’t,” she admitted. “I love animals and besides, I’d have to get awfully close to a snake to step on it.”
His hand dropped away and he stepped back, allowing Carla space to turn around. Her gaze traveled the length of him, gliding over his tight washboard abs, his chest, his chiseled jaw, finally locking in on his beautiful eyes that revealed yet hid so much about him.
“So we have a deal? You don’t turn into silent man if I hit a nerve. Just tell me, okay?”
He nodded. “Deal.”
Neither of them volunteered to move. They stood together, not speaking, the smoldering beginnings of desire flickering to life once more. Carla placed her palms against Jackson’s chest, the heavy thumping of his heart vibrating under her fingers. His eyes turned dark, stained with need. He placed his palms on the wall, on either side of her head, effectively trapping her. He leaned in, his lips inches from hers.
“I don’t want you to go,” he murmured.
“It’s past dinner time. Aren’t you hungry?”
“Not for food,” he responded, bending down to give her his kiss.