I cry out against the panties, and they do indeed muffle my sound.
Jackson picks up his pace again, threading his fingers back through my hair, but he doesn’t need to force me to watch. I’m spellbound.
His other hand doesn’t go back to my hip, instead going in between my legs.
Shit … he’s going to make me come again.
I love and hate when he gets determined that way. The orgasm he just gave me was so shattering, I’m convinced there’s no way I have anything left inside to give him.
But the minute his fingers touch my clit, yearning rolls through me, and I know I can’t fight it.
Pounding, pounding, pounding away inside me. Fingers working hard between my legs, me watching Jackson in the mirror as he gets closer.
As I get closer.
The wet glide of him inside me, a new feeling since we disposed of condoms, makes me feel closer to him than ever.
Jackson’s hand abruptly pulls away to give me a sharp whack on my ass. I scream into the silk and lace, and my orgasm starts firing.
Jackson throws himself into me and his fingers are back at my clit where he pinches it lightly, and I am done. The panties in my mouth soak up my scream as my back arches low. Things go hazy, but I vaguely hear Jackson grunt, “Fucking beautiful,” before he shoves in one last time and comes with a long growl.
He milks every bit of himself by rocking and flexing his hips against my ass, forcing every last drop from him to me. Jackson’s hands slide around my stomach and he lowers us to the mattress, rolling us to our sides so we are spooning. I pull the panties from my mouth and toss them to the floor. Jackson is still lodged deep within me, and I’m blissed out beyond repair. If I could stay like this forever, I would lead a happy and fulfilled life.
Cuddling with Jackson is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It’s always done in the quiet, with his muscular arms wrapped securely around me. His chest rises and falls heavily, and I feel the steady thump of his heartbeat against my spine. I’m safe and cherished.
It’s within this quiet, without the need to say any words of affection or affirmation, that I feel deep in my bones the closest to him.
I wonder if it’s the same for him.
Normally, the silence is eventually broken by one of us making a silly comment. But this time, it’s Jackson who speaks first, and the comment isn’t silly at all. “You haven’t said anything about me staying on until after your birthday.”
It’s true. I didn’t see Jackson all day after we returned, but I’d promised I would come to his room. He surprised me instead by coming to mine not long after I had dinner with my parents. In fairness, he didn’t give me much opportunity to say anything. He closed the door and his mouth was on mine. Hard to talk about my thoughts and feelings when he’s kissing the breath out of me.
“I’m obviously glad you’re staying,” I say carefully. I want to keep my emotions out of this, because they have been swirling all day thinking that Jackson was leaving tomorrow. “I know I’m safer when you’re going to be protecting me.”
“Mmm,” he says, a hum of affirmation, and then silence once again.
I decide to give him something more. “On a personal level, I’m glad I get more time with you.”
There… I said it. A simple statement, still vague enough to hide the true depth of my feelings for this man, because deep down, it’s a gift to be given more time.
I settle back into him, accepting quiet if that’s all there is left. I even imagine myself dozing in his arms before he has to leave.
I’m not prepared for him to say, “I obviously agreed to stay on to protect you, but also because I wanted the extra time too.”
I smile, happy to know we’re on the same wavelength. I’ve been gearing up the last few days for us to make the break. But when my father told me Jackson would be staying on, no part of me thought, “Oh no … now I have to harden myself all over again in preparation for his inevitable departure.”
Because the hurt is going to compound the more time I spend with him.
But no, I never thought it was bad in any way, and I figure it’s worth feeling that increased pain to have eleven more days with him.
“You have big things ahead of you,” Jackson says conversationally, and I know it’s his way of moving away from something that could turn heavy.
I chuckle. “You mean, a ridiculously large birthday party that will be a complete spectacle and most of the people my parents have invited I don’t even know? Yeah … I have big things coming.”