“In any case, I still think you should keep that,” he said, touching the medal where it hung down just below her breasts.
“No way. It’s a huge achievement and it’s yours.” He reached down and put his arms beneath hers, lifting her from the chair. Her body molded against his, curves fitting perfectly along his muscled planes. She squirmed as his hands slid along her back to cup her ass. He bent down and kissed her, hot and hungry, like he’d been denied her lips for far too long. She groaned as his tongue slipped into her mouth, sliding next to hers in a sensual mating.
He broke the kiss only to nibble his way down along her neck. “Then at least wear it while you’re here,” he murmured against her skin.
“What?” His kisses fogged her brain; she struggled for coherent thought.
“To celebrate my achievement. Just as you said.” He traced the fine line of her collarbone with the tip of his tongue. She groaned.
“Wear the medal when I make love to you. Just the medal and nothing else.” He pulled away for just a moment, tossing her a wicked grin. “Then I’ll feel like I really got a prize.”
****
“Right here,” Jackson tilted the small pitcher in his hand so its contents drizzled directly onto Carla’s erect nipples, “is really the best place to pour the honey.”
Over the past week they’d settled into a pattern of having dinner in the caf, dessert in Jackson’s bedroom. He’d insisted dessert tasted a whole lot better in bed, and Carla wasn’t about to disagree. Besides, he was absolutely right. Having mind-blowing sex with Jackson every night beat chocolate soufflé by a mile and was fat free to boot.
He bent forward and began with slow and careful precision to lick away every drop on her skin. The thick, amber liquid dripped down her nipples to the sides of her breasts. Before it trickled to the bed sheets Jackson was there, licking away the honey with sensual swipes of his tongue.
“Don’t want to miss any,” he said with a wicked smile.
Carla let out a long hiss and settled back on the pillows, content to give him as much time as he wanted for this little tongue bath.
His lips captured her nipple and he swirled his tongue around the distended nub, making it hard as a cherry pit. Slow and steady pulses throbbed in her pussy, matching her heartbeat. Although she loved the way he sucked her nipples, even using his teeth to lightly bite and scrape her sensitive skin, she began losing patience with his game. She needed the delicious stretch of his thick cock in her pussy. Now.
Her thighs opened, invitation for Jackson to satisfy her hunger and fuck her.
“Need you in me,” she begged, arching her pelvis toward him.
“Not so fast.” He waved a scolding finger at her. “I’m not finished here.”
His attention returned to her breasts as he continued to clean off the sticky honey. But, as if granting a small concession to her demands, he dropped his right hand between her legs and made a leisurely exploration of her slick folds. His finger trailed through her juices, skimming her clit only enough to make her think she might lose her mind in frustration. He stroked, rubbing the swollen kernel just the way she liked it, then backed off as soon as her hips began to rock.
“Jackson, please.” She could hear the desperation in her ragged voice.
“You need something, chère?” he asked with feigned innocence.
“You know what I—ah!” He plunged two fingers deep inside her.
Oh, sweet heavenly bliss. She cried out, raising her hips to meet his sublime thrusts. She wove her hands through his hair and then dropped one of her hands down to trace the curve of his back and the sexy rise and fall of his ass. And what an ass. Tight and sculpted, like Michelangelo’s David.
With his thumb he made slow circles around her sensitive clit, his touch quick yet light. Carla closed her eyes and slipped further down the pillows, surrendering herself to his touch. She let her thighs drop open even further, allowing him as much access as he wanted. Her breaths grew quicker and more shallow and she couldn’t help but undulate her hips as he increased the pressure against her G-spot.
She tingled everywhere, from her hair to her toes, reaching, reaching to grab hold of the orgasm that was building but yet not quite there. So close, going full steam ahead to the edge of the cliff.
“Oh yes, oh please!” She rocked against his thrusting fingers, hips flailing, her fingers twisting the bed sheets into knots as she held tight. “Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop. Give me more. More, Jackson, please!”
He gave her what she wanted and then some, his fingers driving into her pussy until she reached the summit, nerve-sizzling pulses of pleasure rushing through her body like a storm, blissful spasms she hoped would never end.
When she finally floated back to reality, Jackson propped above her against his arm, trailing his fingers along the smooth skin of her breasts.
“That was beautiful,” he murmured, fingering her still swollen nipples.
“Yes,” she purred like a contented cat, “it was.” She looked at his body and his jutting cock, hard as a marble pole. “But I want that. Now.”
“Greedy.”
“For you.”
She adjusted herself, assuming he would climb atop her. But instead he rolled her to her stomach. Nice, she thought. Doggy style. She loved that position for the ease with which she could meet his thrusts. She heard the quick tear of the condom pack, but was surprised when Jackson settled his body atop hers, his weight pressing her into the cool sheets.
“You don’t want me up?” she asked.
“Not yet.” He swept aside her hair so he could lick and kiss her neck. “Need to hold you first.”
She sizzled with pleasure, loving the intimate feeling of his body draped over hers as she lay on her stomach. Jackson slipped his hands beneath her pelvis just for a moment, raising her hips and positioning himself before he slid deep inside.
She gasped as he entered, balling her hands into fists against the pillow as his thick cock stretched her. His rock hard abs were coated with a light sheen of sweat and slick as they glided over her back. It was difficult for her to meet his thrusts in that position but Jackson didn’t seem to care. He set a slow, almost leisurely pace, plunging into her but then pulling out nearly all the way and pausing before he thrust once more.
His hands braced on either side of her face, his fingertips skimming her cheeks, and she turned her head so she could take one of his fingers in her mouth, sucking it like a treat. He picked up the pace, plunging harder, and she curved her back so she could bring him more deeply inside of her. His arm slid beneath her belly and he brought her up to her hands and knees.
“Time to get serious,” he murmured, reaching forward to caress her breasts as he buried himself deep. His balls slapped her pussy as he pounded against her, his labored groans filling the air. He straightened and rested one hand on her hip while slipping the other around her waist to play with her clit.
Sensation overwhelmed her. She cried out, sure she wasn’t ready yet. It was too soon, she’d come just minutes ago. But even as the thought flitted through her mind, a seed of desire unfurled and she burned for him once more.
His skilled touch knew just the amount of pressure she needed. His fingers swirled around her swollen clit, circling faster; harder. A pleasing sharp sting of his hand landed across her buttocks. She groaned, savoring the addictive pain.
Jackson leaned forward again and turned his attention back to her neck, kissing the nape, his labored breathing gusting across her skin. Her eyes squeezed shut as the orgasm danced before her, just out of reach. Her pussy swelled, growing heavy, readying for release. She reached between her legs to caress Jackson’s balls and was rewarded with his low, throaty groan. A couple more thrusts and he cried out, swelling and pulsing inside of her. She rocked her hips forward, pressing her clit hard against his hand, and seconds later joined in the release.
Jackson pulled out and made a quick trip to the bathroom to get rid of the condom. Then he settled back down on the bed, bringing Carla with him. He lay on his back and she rested her head against his arm. His warm skin emitted his scent, faint but distinct. She breathed deeply, basking in the familiar smell.
Jackson noticed and raised a questioning brow. “I take it a shower is in order?”
She looked up at him. “Only if I can join you.”
“I wouldn’t object.”
He made to roll away but Carla placed a hand on his chest to stop him. “Not yet.”
“I thought by the way you were sniffing around I’m getting a bit ripe.”
“Not at all. I’m actually enjoying the scent of you. It’s wonderful.”
He chuckled. “You’re definitely unique.”
“Unique?” She lifted herself up and rested her head on her arm. “That’s generally euphemistic for ‘different’ or ‘weird.’ It’s not usually much of a compliment.”
“But in this case it is.”
“Yeah?”
Jackson propped himself up on the pillows and absently swirled the tips of his fingers across her cheek. “I think you know me enough by now to realize I’m a bit off the beaten path.”
A perfect opening; she couldn’t resist. She propped herself up on the pillows as well, putting some distance between herself and him. She pulled the sheet up as well, not feeling comfortable being naked at this very moment.
“Actually,” she began cautiously, “I don’t know if that’s true. About how well I know you, that is.”
It wasn’t her imagination; she was certain of it. He visibly tensed. “What do you mean?”
“I…” She hesitated. Did she really need to have a “serious” discussion with him? Two weeks of her assignment were already gone. Why not just enjoy the remaining time they had together and call it a day? But in her heart she knew it felt wrong. Like it or not, sensible or not, Jackson had begun to mean something to her. She tried like crazy to deny it, but after a while the truth just wouldn’t go away. She knew herself well enough to recognize feelings, and she was starting to get them, big time, for Jackson.
Before she could begin again, Jackson said, “You talked to Amy.”
She winced against the accusation in his voice. “It’s not like I was spying on you, Jackson. She came to me, not the other way around. Ask her yourself.”
“I don’t have to. I know Amy well enough.” He sighed, a long, tired sigh, as if just learning he had a monumental amount of work to do and limited time in which to do it.
“How much did she tell you?”
“I already knew about your parents, because you had told me. But she talked about how you blame yourself for the accident.” She turned to face him more directly. “Which, by the way, you shouldn’t because—” “Save it for someone else.” His voice had taken on a hard edge. “I know what I did.”
She heard the toughness in his words, but as she studied his face she could see the trauma in his eyes. He had put on a mask, the same one he donned for everyone else when the subject of his parents’ accident came up. Jackson shielded himself from anyone trying to help him while bearing the pain of their deaths squarely on his shoulders alone. He acted tough in a feeble effort to fool people. Maybe sometimes it even worked. But not with Carla.
“So do I,” she said. “You made them happy.”
“I got them killed.” He ran his hands through his hair and turned the other way, toward the night table. He grabbed his glasses from the stand and put them on.
Silence stole into the room like an intruder, robbing them of the intimacy they’d known mere minutes ago. She scooted off the bed and grabbed for her clothes, pulling them on and then walking around the room to stand in front of Jackson, who remained sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I know you didn’t want me to learn this about you,” she began, “but I did so I think we should talk about it.”
Even before she finished her sentence he shook his head. “No.” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but his conviction was undeniable.
She frowned. “Why not?”
“Because there isn’t anything to talk about.”
He rose from the bed and began reassembling his own clothes, pulling on jeans and a T-shirt and then looking for his socks.
Carla trailed after him, sputtering. “Nothing to talk about? How about the fact that you blame yourself for your parents’ death? How about the overwhelming guilt eating at you every single day, driving you to the ground? Shouldn’t that be talked about?”
He whirled around as if she’d physically grabbed hold of him and forced him to face her. He stared, eyes blazing fire, then he clenched his jaw and shook his head.
“Not with you.”