Something flickers in his eyes, there and gone too fast to decipher, but then his gaze drops to my hand. He steps closer, his fingers brushing over the damaged skin and the touch sends a shiver down my spine. “You really did a number on the glass this morning.”
“I couldn't just stand there and watch him hurt you.” The words slip out before I can stop them, too honest, too raw.
“You can't say shit like that,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “Not when I'm trying to hate you.”
I let out a shaky laugh, my hands coming up to grip his hips. “Think we're a little past hate at this point.”
He groans. “Didn’t care to see your pretty face looking so distraught.”
“So, you think I’m pretty? Is that what gets you all hard?”
Jesus, fuck. Where’d that come from?
As if someone else just invaded my body, I follow up with, “Or do you like the way my pierced cock feels. Bet you’d scream like a whore with it up your ass.”
Jackson erases whatever distance is between us, grabbing my hair. “Listen, you jerk off. If anyone’s screaming, it’ll be you when I fuck you so hard you forget your damn name.”
The scent of bergamot, rich oak, and sandalwood fills my nose and I inhale deeper. My cock is steeled, pulse thrumming in my ears. I lean in and bite his bottom lip, reaching down and palming his groin. “This all for me?”
“Think you can take all of it?” Between his tone and that sly smirk, he’s mocking me.
“I’m bigger, and we both know it.”
He yanks my head back by my hair, his teeth sinking into my neck. My hips buck against his thigh and I start grinding. He grunts low and pulls back, a wolfish smile spreading across his face. “Fuck, Blackwell, so goddamn needy.”
And as if proving him right I grab his wrist, pulling it out of my hair, then slam my mouth down on his and moan against his lips.
He moves forward, backing me up to the bed, unbuttoning my jeans as we go. “This is such a bad idea.”
“The worst,” I agree just as Jackson grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls it up and off. “We should stop.”
“We should,” he echoes, but his hands are everywhere, sliding over my chest, my arms, my back. His touch is electric, igniting sparks under my skin until I'm burning with it, aching for more.
He pushes me down onto the mattress, then I help him take my jeans off because fuck, while I’m not sure what I’m doing, right now, all I want to do is bury myself inside him and see the sounds my Jacob’s ladder can rip from those pillowy lips.
Once my boxers are off and I’m on full display, his gaze rakes over me before he sheds his clothes. I catch the momentary fault when he removes his shirt, the way he winces.
He’s injured.
It can’t be that bad, though. Otherwise, he’d be kicking me out.
I sit up, scooting my knees under me, my cock pointing straight up. But instead of joining, he walks toward a bag in the corner and rifles through it, returning a moment later with a bottle of lube and condoms.
“Why do you have that?”
“Who said it’s mine?” He tosses the items onto the bed, then lunges forward, attacking my mouth.
“Ugh, we’re using Petrov’s—”
His palm smacks my ass so hard I jerk forward, pressing myself into him. “Say another man’s name again and see what happens.”
I look right at him and in the sluttiest voice—or at least what I think a slutty voice would sound like—say, “Petrov.”
Jackson’s entire face turns furious, but when he moves, I twist to the side, then pull his knee out so he lands onto the mattress on his stomach. Quickly, I mount him, laying my full weight on him, my chest to his back.
I chuckle, nipping his ear. “Like I said, I’m going to be the one fucking you.”
A growl tears from his throat. A literal growl. Like a goddamn wolf. I expect him to fight me, to try and flip me. Instead, he pushes his ass up into my cock and moans.
