Until Her

Chapter 12-2

“Shut the f**k up.”

Anna took a deep breath and continued talking.

“Jackson needs his woman to be strong. He needs to know she can handle the toughest of situations and not fall apart. A woman who can hold his s**t down as well as her own. You’re not any of those things. But you can be for someone else. Just not him.”

Fuck, if Anna hadn’t delivered a direct hit of truth.

It was Maxey who showed up and escorted Vivian out of the restaurant moments later.

Anna turned to Jackson with her hands on her hips after they’d gotten another table.

“Can’t take you anywhere. Horse riding, you have admirers. Doctor’s office, one of your exes scorned. Restaurant, baby-momma drama. Is there anything else I should know?”

She was semi-serious, but Jackson played along anyway.

“What can I say? Women go crazy to give me pleasure.”

Anna was silent for a beat too long, her eyes wide with what looked to be confusion before there was nothing but laughter dancing there. She chuckled quietly before sliding back into their new seat. Then she said rather loudly, “Show’s over, folks. Let’s eat.”

Dinner was still a success. Vivian had tried to ruin it, but Anna and Jackson continued as if it were a tiny hiccup to their plans. Once dinner was done, Jackson made sure to pay promptly and tipped the waiter. The moment he had them in the parking lot, he pulled Anna to him. Her breath whooshed from her lips, and he almost didn’t let her catch it before he descended on her mouth. She tasted like mints and sugar. Soft and sweet. He couldn’t control himself or the kiss. His mind was singular in its focus. Tonight, he was going to be buried balls deep inside the warmth of this woman.

Jackson tore his mouth away to catch his breath. His hands were filled with ample globes of her ass as he pulled her closer. He’d more than mauled her out in the open. When he looked down at her, she was panting for air. Her lips were wet from his kiss, her mouth open as if in offering. Her hands bunched at his chest and gripped his shirt. Anna’s eyes were fully dilated and clouded with lust.

“I can’t wait to sink inside you, Anna.”

“Less talking, Jackson, we need to get wherever we’re going or I’m gonna kill you,” she said on a long exhale. She didn’t need to say another word. The hotel he’d chosen was only a few miles up the road. He’d gotten them the honeymoon suite. Not because of the size of the room, but because of the Jacuzzi tub and, yes, there were f*****g mirrors on the ceiling and the walls. He wasn’t missing one damn moment of taking in all that was Anna Macon-soon-to-be-Storme.

My brain is mush. I don’t even know what day it is anymore. Ask me my name, and I’ll have no answer for you. I got nothing. The room is huge, that much I know, but beyond Jackson biting on my shoulder, there isn’t much else I’m focused on. There are mirrors on the ceiling and the walls. The only reason I know is because Jackson tilts my head back to rest on his shoulder and orders me to watch what he’s doing to my body as he nibbles my neck and kisses along my shoulders. The mirror is huge, ornate. It’s tastefully framed and doesn’t take away from the ambience of the room, but rather adds to it. The hotel itself is very trendy, and I know it’s the honeymoon suite. It said as much on the door. You remember something, my mind supplies. Okay, yeah, but barely.

“Jackson,” I breathe as he captures my ear between his teeth. His arms are banded around my waist and chest, holding me to him. I can feel the hardened length of his c**k against my ass as I push back, and he pushes forward. I feel like I’ve been waiting a lifetime for this moment, and now that it’s here, I’m freaking the hell out, or more aptly, I’m hyperventilating. To the point my chest is heaving and my lungs actually burn. f**k, I need more air.

Jackson has hold of my throat now. His other hand is in the process of bunching up my dress. My eyes are unfocused as I try to zero in on what’s happening to my body as I stare up at us in the mirror. My skin is flushed, and his is hot to the touch. He wastes no time going into my underwear and plunging not one but two fingers deep inside. I gasp when he slides in and out, making my legs tremble. A moan crawls up my chest and slides from my throat. The sound is long, needy, and if I weren’t watching this for myself, I would think the woman it was happening to is in need of a good f*****g. My body has been ready to go the rounds with Jackson between the sheets for what feels like an eternity.

“You’re always so wet for me, gorgeous,” Jackson says against the shell of my ear. The calloused pads of his fingers press into the column of my throat, almost as if he’s trying to gauge my reaction from the pulse in my neck. He rubs his face against mine like a cat would its paws, only he isn’t purring. He’s growling like a wild animal right before it goes in for the kill. I wish I could see his face, but the angle at which my head is tilted only gives me the vantage point from above. I try to move my gaze to the wall mirror when his fingers constrict around my throat maneuvering my head so I remain looking up. It’s sexy and a bit intimidating. His head slides up, and our eyes clash in the mirror. There’s love in his eyes, and a confidence so arrogant all I can do is stare.

At us.

At him.

At me.

There’s an ottoman a few steps in front of us, and as Jackson digs deeper with his fingers, his hand around my throat squeezing lightly again.

“Don’t take your eyes off of us, Anna. Understand?”

“Yes,” I croak. My voice vibrates along the inside of my throat, and I do as I’m told. I watch.

I watch as his fingers pull free from my soaked p***y. I watch as he slides them through my lips and circles my c**t lightly underneath my dress. I can’t see his fingers, but I can feel them. I can see the movement of his hand, but that’s the extent of what I can see. What I feel, on the other hand, is altogether different as he teases me with alternating strokes. Heavy and light, mixed in with a slight pinch to my c**t. The flush on my skin is darkening, and the heat from Jackson’s body is almost too much. My chest heaves, breath sawing in and out, my heart beating rapidly. My lips are plump, parted, and wet. I look thoroughly aroused as my n*****s point through the fabric of my dress as my breasts swell. Tiny electrical impulses go off like mini explosions inside my body as Jackson continues to play with me. The stubble on his face is a balm to my overheated skin as it lightly scratches me when he rubs his face against mine. We’re both staring at his hand, and what it’s doing beneath my dress.

His eyes rake over my body in our shared connection through the mirror. I watch as a grin forms on his lips before he begins to work my neck and shoulder with his mouth. The hand between my legs is being used in multiple ways. His fingers stroke deep inside as his palm presses against my c**t. That same hand is pushing me against his erection as he grinds against my ass. My hands grip his pants leg, to pull him forward. Damn, I so need this. The entire time I watch, I incoherently repeat over and over how much I need him. My dress is falling off one shoulder, and my breasts are seconds away from being exposed. In the quiet of the room, the only thing I can hear is the air conditioner, Jackson’s harsh breathing, and the lust-filled adrenaline shots racing through my veins at breakneck speeds as blood courses through my body. The sound of the blood in my veins is loud. Like too much bass pumping through a subwoofer.

“Anna,” he heaves. “There is only one of you and one of me, and we’re so insignificant to something so expansive.”

Huh?

“We don’t matter in the grand scheme. But to me darlin’, to me, you’re all I see, all I want, and so much more. A plethora of stars, clusters, hell, even molecules pale in comparison to what I feel for you. That’s a f**k ton of emotion coursing through me.”

My mind is scrambling because although I’m smart, I have no idea what the hell he’s going on about. Is Jackson that overtaken with me that he’s talking about stars? Am I even supposed to understand what he is saying, and dammit, I wish he’d slow down because my body is about to take a nosedive into the mirror in front of us. And how embarrassing would that be?

“Stop talking, Jackson, you’re going to throw me off my game,” I whisper-moan. I’m about to close my eyes to clear my head when I hear his harsh voice in my ear.

“Anna, watch.” It’s an order. He can be extremely bossy in the bedroom.

He takes my breasts, one in each hand, and starts kneading them. Massaging me, pinching my n*****s with his thumb and forefinger until my head feels heavy. I’m lust-drunk and at this point, I just want to get to the part where tab A slides into slot B.

“Jackson,” I beg.

“I got you, Anna. Trust me to take care of you.”

“I trust you, but I’m ready now,” I whine.

“When I’m ready, baby, and not a moment sooner.”

I whimper, and no lie, I’m ready to beg with everything I have. I keep watching. Jackson’s broad shoulders move with the motion of his hands as he continues to play with my breasts. It’s tortuous, maddening. My entire frame is vibrating with the need to be satisfied. Like a tuning fork, I’m being manipulated into making the sounds he wants to hear, until he’s ready. I know that’s his intention. To get me so worked up I’ll die at the first contact of skin on skin. His hands move from my breasts to my waist. He squeezes playfully, and our eyes meet again in the mirror.

If I couldn’t see Jackson clearly before, I definitely see him now. His nostrils flare slightly, and he smiles against the shell of my ear. He doesn’t look away as one of his hands goes back beneath my dress to tempt me further. I’m given the opportunity and the honor to see all that he is in this state as I stare at his beautiful, golden eyes. Sometimes, people are afraid to look. To see what’s buried beneath the surface. It’s something we’re taught at a young age. Not to stare too long, or deeply into someone’s eyes.

There in the depth of his stare is a love so real, so infinitely deep, and so pure, my soul aches. I see it all. The beginning, the middle, and the end. It’s enough to weaken my knees and almost make me lose my balance. Jackson catches me around the waist as I teeter forward. After I’m steady, my dress is pushed to my hips. My string thong can be easily untied. In perfect unison and without either of us opening our mouths to speak, my hand slaps the marble wall next to the mirror to balance myself as I bend forward and tilt my hips. My thong is untied and moved out of the way as I hear his zipper give to release his c**k.

Jackson eases inside.

Slowly.

Steadily.

Inch by magnificent inch, he stretches me open to his very welcomed invasion.

“Jackson.”

“Annabelle.”

We each say the other’s name.

Synced.

There’s slight hesitation from Jackson. He’s checking to make sure I’m ready.

I’ve been ready.

Forever it seems.

One hand is at my waist. His other arm is across my chest as he pulls me close to get deep. He lets out a savage groan, and then there’s no hesitation.

He pulls out.

Thrusts deep.

Pulls out again, only to thrust deeply again. Each push and pull steals my breath as I use the mirror against the wall to brace myself. My head drops forward, and I try to catch the beauty of Jackson and me f*****g in front of the mirror. He’s still wearing his slacks, and the zipper is hitting my skin with the force of his thrusts. I’ll be marked for sure. I feel taken, owned, and soon, the breath leaving my lips is cries of passion. The power of his thrusts becomes faster, harder. I can’t breathe. I can’t catch my breath, and the feeling of free falling settles into the pit of my stomach, whipping back and forth until I stand on the tips of my shoes and push back and give him as good as he gives me. I want to use my hands, but can’t. They’re the only things keeping me grounded and steady.

“f**k. f**k. f**k,” Jackson pants into my back. We’re both sweating. I can feel him cooling the heated flesh of my skin with his perspiration. My mind is desperately trying to catch up with my body, but I’m too far gone. My back begins to tingle right at the base, and I grip Jackson’s c**k, clamping down as my orgasm rushes forward. Large swells of pleasure sweep over me from head to toe until my legs shake with exhaustion and my breasts tingle. I can’t scream or talk. Nothing. My body seizes over and over. My limbs lock everywhere until my orgasm releases me from its grip. I’m as malleable as potter’s clay.

Jackson follows soon after. His hand constricts on my waist, and the arm banded across my chest tightens as his head comes to rest on the back of my neck where he gives me a light nip. I almost fall to the ground as he pulls himself free, but Jackson pulls me into his embrace. My back to his front. He kisses my neck, and bites down harder, sucking the skin between his teeth, before soothing the sting with his tongue.

“Thought we were pulling an all-nighter?” I joke.

“Not done, baby. Every great sexcapade has at least two, maybe three intermissions.”