“Like that, baby.”
Who the fuck am I right now? And why did I just call Jackson Reed baby?
He hides his face in a pillow and pushes against me again. This time I grind down, my cock sliding between his muscular cheeks. “Fuck, Reed. Are we really going to do this?”
Jackson turns his head, glaring at me over his shoulder. “You stop now and Iwillsmash your skull into the wall until your brains spill all over the carpet.”
I bite his shoulder, chuckling. “You say the most romantic things.”
“Shut up, asshole.”
My hips cant against Jackson, precum making his crack slippery. My breaths grow shallow, fingers digging into his hips. He writhes beneath me, most likely fucking into the bed. “Your cock aching, baby?”
His nails raking into the skin of my thighs as he scratches up, releasing the filthiest moan I’ve ever heard.
“Is that a yes?”
Instead of answering, the asshole turns and bites my forearm, hard, marking me yet again. I return the favor on his other shoulder.
Guess we’ve traded bruising one another with punches for doing it by biting.
When I sit up, the tiniest whimper escapes his lips and he buries his face into the pillow again. I swat his ass. “I heard that.”
He holds up a hand and gives me the finger. Shaking my head, I reach over and grab the lube and condom. Clicking the top open, I slick my fingers up.
After our encounter the other day, I found myself on the internet hoping to find something about what I’m going through in regards to my sexuality, kinda even wished there was some sort of miracle answer out there.
Curiosity also got the better of me and I started reading about having sex with a man. It was a bit overwhelming, especially when it came to preparing for it. There were different opinions about so many things.
But I still found myself wanting to try . . . with Jackson.
Jackson looks over his shoulder at me, a deep flush covering his neck and cheeks, his pupils blown. His lips are pursed, a slightly angry look on his face. “Are you going to fuck me or just sit there like you’re deciding what to order from the menu?”
I laugh so fucking hard I temporarily forget what we’re about to do, then I look at him and quirk a brow. “Well, there are options.”
“Blackwell!”
“Impatient much?” I spread him and my cock leaks an absurd amount of precum when my eyes fall on his clenching and unclenching hole.
My fingers slip between his cheeks, one pushing its way inside his body. When I meet resistance, I look up. Jackson’s eyes are closed, mouth agape, fingers white knuckling the sheets.
“Want me to stop?”
“No.”
After a few breaths, he relaxes and I push inside. He’s smooth and warm. Different than a woman yet familiar. “Fuck, you’re tight.”
“Add another finger. Now. Work me open.”
“I . . . how?”
He shakes his head, face buried in the pillow once again as he scoots his knees under him, opening up for me. “Don’t know. Just do something. Now.”
Pushing two fingers into him, I curl them and he pushes back, moaning loudly. My cock is painfully hard, aching to be inside him. When he starts fucking my fingers, I withdraw them, tear open the condom and roll it on, then slick it with lube.
His fingers tighten around the pillow as he arches, lifting his ass higher.
Seeing him like this snaps what little restraint I have. Grunting, I thrust inside Jackson hard enough to rip a strangled cry from him. It’s barbaric, selfish even. His body is tense and shaking, a sheen of sweat coating his skin.
