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“Can you?” I flirt, wrapping him into a hug.
“Um-hm.” He nods and leans into me.
Our lips meet, and he devours my mouth with his. I taste the liquor on his tongue and enjoy every bit of it as the heat between us rises. My center awakens from the steam, from every brush of his fingers along my bare skin. I moan into him, digging myself closer, almost begging him for more. My eyes are closed, but I hear him chuckle, then his lips pull away from mine.
“What?” I ask, opening my eyes to stare at him.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, ignoring my question and cupping my face.
I squeeze his hands, enjoying the way it feels. Safe and desired.
“Come on, let’s get out of here. Care to join me for one more drink in my cabin?”
“Yes.” I almost hesitate in answering him. But I realize that I don’t need to. He doesn’t let off what his intentions are for inviting me back, but we’re both grown, and I’m yearning to feel his body close to mine. If the way he grinds against me on the dance floor, or the fuck me glares he gives me are any indication of how well he’ll take care of my temple, then sign me up.
We reach his room, and he escorts me in, locking the door behind us. Glancing around, I see that our rooms are almost exactly alike with one small exception. His has a balcony. I toss my clutch on the chair in the corner and flop down on the bed, leaning back on my palms and making myself comfortable. He opens his mini fridge pull out two miniatures of Jim Beam and hands me one. In unison, we break the seal and down the drinks in one gulp. Some spills on his hand, so he heads to the bathroom to wash it off. He returns and pushes my clutch aside, sitting in the oversized chair.
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as his gaze dances over me. Starting from my feet up to my legs and then on to the curve of my breast before he finally looks me in my face again. I dare not blink and interrupt this moment.
“Um.” He releases a throaty roar.
I cross my legs, leaning farther into the mattress.
“I can’t tell you all the things I want to do to you right now.” He sits back, adjusting his crotch along the way.
“Why not?”
“Your rules, remember? Don’t even think about having sex with me,” he mocks, and I laugh.
I’m more than curious of the thoughts running through his mind. If they’re anything like mine, then I’m sure he’s just as eager to explore them. But when I think we may be getting somewhere; his face turns serious.
“I’m sorry about tonight. I never wanted you to see me like that.” He reaches forward to retrieve another drink from the fridge.
He offers me another one, but I decline. He pops the top and downs his second beverage. And again, we play the staring game, and this time I swear I witness a growth happening in his pants.
I pick myself up and take slow, sensual steps over to him while reaching to undo the clasps that keeps my jumpsuit up right. Jackson is now sitting at attention, fully focused on my naked chest when the outfit falls and dangles boldly at my hips. He smiles that delicious smile and calls for me with his finger. He peers at me with such hunger and passion, giving me no choice but to oblige. I let my ensemble find its way to the floor and step out of it, leaving it puddled between his feet. He reclines and with one hand traces the fabric of his jeans in an attempt to release the pressure that’s obviously building.
In nothing but black G-string panties, I’m exposed to his desires, his touch, and whatever seductive thought he has. With one swoop, he pulls me close, guiding my legs until I’m saddled on top of him. My skin burns with pleasure when he traces my breast with his thumb, then firmly grips my mounds in his palms and takes it all in his mouth. The upside to having smaller breasts…it’s a mouthful. First, he suckles, then he nibbles, sending my head back in a frenzy of tantalizing bliss. With expert precision, he moves on to the left side, giving it equal care and attention.
My panties are slick with my juices against the stiffness in his jeans. I want to touch it, him, every limb. But when I reach for the zipper, he stops me.
“This isn’t about me,” he says, prompting the confused look on my face.
“I—”
“Shh.” He places a finger over my lips, stopping me mid-sentence.
I obey, releasing my hold on his zipper.
“Suck,” he demands while rubbing that finger between my lips.
I do as I’m told, swallowing his long, slender finger whole. A low groan escapes him as I slide his finger backwards and forwards in my mouth.
He pulls his hand away, using it to trail saliva down my neck, between my breasts, and across my belly. The moisture dried up long ago, but the tingling sensation remains. Our gaze meets his hand. He peels at the fabric of my panties and snakes it to my sensitive spot.
“It’s bare. I like that, baby.” He growls at the feel of my freshly waxed vagina. He rubs my naked skin, but is careful not to touch my clit, almost as if he wants to tease me.
I think he’s going to give it some attention, but he brushes past it slightly while he feels around the rest of my flesh.
