Jackson kicked the underwear aside. He took slow, deliberate steps to cross the space between us and reached down to free my poor, impatient cock from its confines. It jutted out hard enough to slap my belly before it resumed its upward salute to the man who could torture me like no other human on any planet.
“Looks like you’re havin’ trouble, babe,” he drawled as he walked around the bed. The mattress dipped as he knelt on it beside me, the head of his cock right next to my head.
I licked at my lips. “Do youthink?” I retorted.
“Mm.” He reached down to slide my cock through the tight channel of his hand from tip to root in a slow, lazy motion.
“Jackson!” The word burst from me. Fortunately for my pride, nothingelseburst from me, but that would not take long at this rate. “Please, Jackson, touch me more.”
Another lazy stroke of his hand on my shaft. I was quivering under his touch now, built up and turning more desperate by the moment. Jackson could use kissing and devastating, heated looks in the same way some people used their hands to ratchet your desire higher, mental foreplay of a caliber I had never experienced before.
As he promised, I writhed. I couldn’t help it. My body refused to stay still. I arched my hips to push my cock into his grip, trying to draw out the touch and beg for more. He watched, a wolf waiting to pounce, as I shuddered and rolled under his hand.
“You want more?” Jackson didn’t wait for me to reply. He knew I did. He just leaned over so the head of his cock touched my lips, and I opened my mouth to take it in as I’d longed to do since the first time I saw it.
Thick. Hot. A gorgeous weight on my tongue. I suckled it, drawing my head back and pressing it forward as best as I could to work my way along the length. A low, rough cry broke from Jackson as I did. He leaned forward, one hand still on my cock, the other on the bed frame to steady him as his hips started to move.
He fucked my mouth slowly, at first, with his hand working my cock in tandem with his motions. I lost myself in it. My nerves turned electric every time his hand slid down my length, pulling out cries that he muffled with his shaft as it thrust between my lips. I drowned in the storm of sensations that filled me. Sucking his cock grounded me, gave me a point of focus to cling to. Climax threatened to crash through me, and a muted wail escaped to betray me.
Jackson’s hand stilled. He was breathing hard, panting with his own fight to control his body’s urges.
“Not yet,” he rasped. His hand slipped lower to gently pull my balls down from where they’d tightened against my body, ready to spill. “I’m gonna come in your mouth. You ready for that, Bastian?”
Ready. Willing.Needing.I answered by stretching my head forward and sliding the bottom of his cock over my tongue.
He didn’t need more of an answer. His hips thrust forward again, the hand that was on my cock now on my head to steady it as he fucked my mouth in earnest. That touch almost sent me over, even without the touch on my cock. Feeling him there, struggling against me, pushing his cock into my waiting mouth, that was damn near enough to end me.
Focused on his shaft now, and not on his hand stroking mine, I could appreciate Jackson’s reactions at last. The soft grunts and heavy breaths. The way his body shook and shuddered as my mouth begged for his pleasure. His thrusts turned harder, the rhythm disorganized as the climax rushed to fill him.
And me.“Bastian!”he cried, and heat spilled over my tongue as he came. I swallowed, breathed, swallowed again, teased out every wave until his weight fell onto the arm that braced him on the headboard.
“Jesus fuck,” he said, tone breathy and broken by gulps for air. “Your mouth is so hot, babe. Don’t know how I haven’t fucked it five times over by now, but we’ll be changing that. After I get the rest of what I need.”
A fine sheen of sweat gleamed on his body, turned gold by the lamplight. He pushed off the bed so he could walk around to the end and kneel between my legs. Had he finished me with his hand, I would have counted myself a lucky man, but he wanted more. Hands rested on my thighs to press them open wider. I sprawled on the bed, naked but for the shirt I had all but forgotten, and watched his head lower until his lips touched the head of my cock.
And I was lost again. My entire body jolted as he lowered his mouth down my shaft, sucking gently to pull me inside. I struggled for purchase on the bed, trying to fuck his mouth as he had fucked mine, but the hands on my thighs stopped me. Again, I was at his mercy, and he would claim my climax when he wanted it.
I hoped he wanted it soon. It hadn’t taken long for it to build up again, ready to erupt. Jackson worked his mouth down my shaft, demanding my pleasure and suckling harder when he got what he wanted. My entire body felt taut as a tripwire, ready to explode with the tension that built, vibrated, and clawed higher up my spine and out through my limbs.
“Jackson.” My voice broke as a moan overcame it. “Jackson. Please. Close. Going…to…”
“Come for me,” he said, a plea and a command.
I came for him, screaming his name, and knowing I was his until I had no more life left in me.
14THE PAST IS A STONE COLD BITCH
We wereall on the front porch the next afternoon, drinking iced tea and laying waste to the plate of sandwiches Brenda had fixed for us, when Jackson’s phone rang. Until that interruption, we’d had a nice day, one that had started with biscuits and gravy dense enough to form their own gravity well. (Gravy-ty well?) Brenda and Randall kept up a light but interesting conversation about their ranch, their marriage, and how they’d fallen in love with Wyoming.
No one admitted that the kids were named for the cities they’d been conceived in, during my in-laws travels around the state. No one really had to, and I didnotwant that fact confirmed. My ignorance of this makes me happy and you will pry it from my cold, dead fingers.
Laramie didn’t bother with conversation. He ate, lingered like a cabbage fart in a stuck elevator, and gave me blank enough looks that I wondered if my body would end up in his freezer in the near future. The Sadlers had alotof freezers full of meat. Would they even notice one more baggy of random body parts?
Jackson pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. His expression stormed over, as fast as a supercell in a time-lapse video, and he stalked off the porch before he jabbed at the screen. I couldn’t hear what he said, since he kept walking after the brusque, “Hello.” Neither could I read his lips since he had his back to me, but I could see the tension in his posture and the slump of his shoulders.
“It’s that fucker, Owen,” Brenda said, unprompted.
I glanced at her. “How do you know?”