My eyes are closed to the sound of his voice and the feel of his hands. “Yes,” I say.
“You came storming into my office all self-righteous. Now look at you,” he says, continuing his gentle rubbing. “You’re desperate for me. Your pussy wants me. I did this to you. Tell me I did.”
“Yes. You did this,” I say, wondering what more he wants of me. He’s got me. “Please.”
“Please what?”
What? I don’t know. My head is swimming. All I know is that I want. I’m greedy and I want more and more and more. The words he’s saying are true but no man has ever spoken to me like this and it has me shy and hot at the same time. I like it, but I can’t do it.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You,” I say. I can’t open my eyes. I can’t look at him. “More.” More of his hands. More of his mouth. More of his tongue. I want his dick inside me—suddenly it’s all I can picture, but I certainly did not agree to go out on this one dinner with him to have sex.
I’ve never gone this far on a first date and frankly I can’t remember the last date I went on. In all my spinning thoughts, a tiny part of my brain that isn’t drowning in endorphins reminds me that this is not a date. I don’t know what this is, but my body aches for more and more.
“Be specific, Emily,” Jackson says, teasing me with my name. “Do you want more of me here?” His fingers drift over the roundness of my breasts, grazing my nipple.
“Yes,” I say, because yes it feels so good.
“Or do you want more of me here?” He moves back to my throbbing pussy, making me want to cry.
“Yes!”
“No,” he says. He moves his hands to my hips, no longer touching my skin. They rest there comfortably but suddenly feeling so far away from me. I slowly open my eyes. Won’t he give me anymore?
“Please.” It’s the only word I can manage, and the only word I need to speak.
The way he looks at me is beyond hungry. It’s an animal need. “I told you I always get my way. And I told you I wanted to taste you.”
Before I can react, in one swift motion he has lifted me up by my waist and set me directly on the dinner table. He shoves back the plates and I’m sure the clanking of the china is going to make the staff come busting down the door.
My legs are still spread open, my skirt hiked up to the top of my thighs. I’m panting as I watch Jackson pull up his chair and sit before me, perched up on the table. He runs his hand up my stomach, over the center of my heaving breasts and to my clavicle, where he gently pushes me back.
“Lean back,” he orders. “On your arms.” I go back on my forearms. His hands push up the remaining bit of privacy and he looks at my panties like he’s found the treasure.
“Please,” I beg once again.
“Please what?”
“Please take them off.”
A smirk comes up on his face. With his eyes locked on mine, he lifts my leg from beneath the knee and begins kissing the inside of my thigh, his tongue dancing over my skin as he goes. The higher he gets, the more I squirm, scooting down lower on the table to get myself to him, to his mouth and his tongue and all the pleasure I know is waiting for me.
“Jackson…”
He takes hold of the sides of my panties and rips them down, forcing me to temporarily close my legs so that he can get them off me. Soon he has me back in place, right where he wants me. He pushes my dress up again and stares down at me as he breathes heavily, hungrily. When he moves forward he doesn’t go slowly. His tongue is on me like a bee to the flower, licking up my throbbing walls. He flicks his tongue over my clit several times, making me sure I’m going to lose my mind. He has me panting, gasping for air. He pulls me closer to his mouth his tongue working over me as it throbs and pulses and I know I’m nearing the release. I have to see him.
I look down at Jackson, buried between my thighs, and I can’t believe this is happening. He’s beyond sexy, beyond amazing. It doesn’t even come close—no man has ever come close to making me feel this way.
I reach down for him, my hand brushing back his thick hair, wanting to touch him. He’s doing everything right but I realize I’m pulling him even closer to me, pushing his head more into my pussy, and for a moment I’m afraid he’ll stop and tell me he doesn’t like to be told what to do. Instead, his eyes open and he looks up at me. He slows only for a moment, and then his tongue picks up again, devouring me, working over my clit like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
“God, Jackson,” I moan.
My breaths become shorter, my vision starts to tunnel, and as I watch Jackson take over my pussy, his eyes locked on mine, I explode. My hips buck and he grasps my thighs, keeping his mouth in place as I ride out the orgasm, squeezing my eyes to all other sensations. I somehow manage to stifle the screams and moans that want to escape.
I can hear Jackson moving, but I still need a moment. I think I may have lost consciousness for a moment. I feel Jackson move my knees back together, then cover my legs with soft kisses.
“That was…” I begin.
“…intense,” he finishes. We both manage to laugh.
He helps me off the table and places the strap of my dress back on my shoulder as I tug down the skirt. I can hardly look at him but when I do, for just a quick moment, it feels warm and sweet.
“I just want to say, for the record, that I have never done anything like that in my life,” I tell him, once I’ve gotten myself dressed and back in my chair. I let my hair fall in my face, unable to look at him. “That was just…crazy.”
Jackson reaches over and tucks my hair behind my ear. He lifts my chin so that I’ll look at him. “You’re beautiful,” he says, and something in his eyes and the tone of his voice makes me feel like it’s more than just a line he’s using on me.
But then again, maybe that’s why he’s so seductive—he makes everything seem real, convincing, believable.
Does he mean any of it?
He walks back over to the door. He puts his fingers to his lips. “Shhh…”
I can’t help but grin as he unlocks the door then hustles back to the table like a naughty schoolboy trying not to get caught. Moments later the door opens and Rocco and another waiter arrive to clear away our dishes and present us with dessert. We all act like nothing out of the ordinary happened.
And it was so incredible, so unbelievable, I could almost convince myself that I made it all up, that I blacked out from the wine and had an intense, erotic dream. But then Jackson reaches under the table and clasps my hand and I realize—it’s real. I didn’t even have to dream it.
Jackson
That was not how I intended the night to go.
That was bad.
Well, it was fucking amazing. The hottest sexual experience I’ve ever had in my life. But it’s bad because now I’m hooked on Emily Brown and I don’t like to be addicted to anything.
I need my wits about me now more than ever, and all Emily does is make me lose my mind.
Is it possible that she’s everything you never knew you wanted?
The question hangs in my mind for a brief moment before I shake it off.