Pulling away, I watch in fascination at the way my hand stands out against his tattooed skin.
From what I see, there isn’t a single drop of color. Different shades of black and gray swirl together, one image flowing smoothly into the next. On his right arm, waves clash against an old ship on his bicep. Intricate rope rises from the water in a few spots and wraps around a rustic anchor on his forearm. Darkened clouds behind the ship’s sails spread up his shoulder and fade into a detailed compass entangled in the same rope on the right side of his chest.
His other arm starts at his wrist and goes up to the top of the shoulder where it fades off. This one is of a forest with a river winding between the trees, mountains peek at his biceps. When I look closer, I notice a few detailed wolves scattered in as well.
What holds my attention the most is the bare area on the left side of his chest. The stark contrast of his detailed sleeves against the blank canvas has me reaching up. When my hand traces over the tanned skin, he places his hand over mine.
“Why haven’t you gotten one here yet?”
He watches me closely before staring down at our hands on his chest.
“If I ever put anything there, over my heart, I want it to stand for whatever holds the most importance to me. Not just something that is a part of my story, but of the thing that holds my heart.” He shrugs, tucking a stand of my hair behind my ear. “I haven’t found what that is yet.”
Before I can say anything, he kisses me again. His hands wrap around the bottom of my thighs and tug me to him.
I squeal when he lifts me off the counter. My arms and legs tangle around him on reflex, holding on to him as he turns to leave the kitchen.
“Where are we going?” I giggle.
“While you are hands down the best thing I will ever eat on the kitchen island, and thoughts of bending you over and fucking you at the kitchen table has been on my mind for a while, I plan to take my time with you right now.” He squeezes my ass in his hand and carries me up the stairs.
“And if you thought for one second that our first time was going to be anywhere but my bed, you were sadly mistaken.”
22
Jackson
I’ve always prided myself on being a patient man in everything I do. Never felt the need to rush through things since that is a sure-fire way to guarantee a mistake.
In all of my past physical relationships, that patience and control never slipped. No matter what I felt or wanted, I always kept a tight grip on both.
However, for the first time, I find myself at war with restraint.
At the sight of Kat, naked and sprawled out on my bed beneath me, I clench my fist and force in a slow breath.
I wasn’t joking when I told her that I had thought about bending her over the table. A huge part of me aches to fuck her with abandon, hard and fast. The way her sweet pussy gripped my fingers while she came almost had me doing just that.
Even though I crave that, I also want nothing more than to take my time. To kiss and touch every inch of her while on a quest to find the spots that bring her the most pleasure. The sounds she makes are like music to my ears and I want to play them on repeat.
“Jackson,” she whispers, snapping me from my thoughts. My name leaves her lips on a breathless pant, and I move to her.
Kneeling between her legs, I hover over her, arms braced on either side of her head and kiss her. Her soft lips move in sync with me and I can’t imagine ever getting tired of the way her mouth feels against mine.
Her hands slide around and up my sides, tugging me down to her as she runs her fingers up my back. I settle a little more of my weight onto her, shifting the rest of my weight to my left arm so I can fit my other hand between us.
I squeeze her breast in my palm, running my thumb over her nipple. Her nails scrape against my shoulders while she squirms beneath me, and I swallow her moan of approval with my kiss.
Kat lifts her hips, hooking a leg around my waist and pulling me into her. The warmth of her bare pussy grinds against my covered cock and it’s almost enough to snap my resolve.
Fuck.
I push up, resting on my elbow to watch in rapt fascination as I run my hands down the length of her ribs to her thigh. Gripping her leg tightly in my hand, I grind against her.
She breaks away from my kiss on a gasp, tilting her head back and allowing me the space to kiss down the length of her neck.
“I need…” Kat’s sentence is caught off by another moan as my fingers slip around her thigh, skimming along her soaking pussy.
Repeating the movement, I kiss the edge of her jaw. On the next slide of my hand, I dip the tip of my finger inside of her. She groans in pleasure, the hold her leg has around me tightens slightly and she gyrates her hips.
