"Tell me," I breathe, my own desperation matching his.
"It makes me want to worship every single inch of you, Maya. It makes me want to show you how fucking beautiful and desired you are."
His hands roam under my shirt, tracing the curve of my waist, before impatiently working the hem up. I help him pull it off, and my bra quickly follows. His mouth finds my breasts, his tongue, teeth, and raw heat driving me wild, a dizzying combination of tenderness and hunger.
"Jackson," I manage to moan, hands tightly tangled in his thick hair, urging him closer,deeper.
"Tell me what you want," he whispers, pulling back, his eyes burning with fierce intensity.
"Everything," I gasp, arching my back into his hands. "I want everything you've been holding back."
He strips me of my remaining clothes. My jeans and underwear are tossed aside, and then he's kissing down my body: stomach, hips, thighs. It feels like adoration, a ritual performed just for me.
He pauses, taking a deep, ragged breath. "Can I taste you?" he asks.
"God, yes," I gasp, my voice trembling, unable to hold back the sudden rush of tears brought on by how gently he asks, how much it means that he’s giving me a choice.
And then he dives in.
His tongue is relentless, hot, and probing, circling and teasing me with worshipful intensity, making me gasp and writhe on the bed. One of his hands slides under my hips, lifting me to give his mouth perfect access.
"You taste so fucking incredible," he murmurs against my skin, the sound vibrating deep inside me. "I've wanted this for so long. To have you this close, to feel you wrap around me like this. You feel amazing, Maya."
He sinks his fingers into me, two strong, calloused digits joining the exquisite pressure of his mouth. He moves them in perfect sync with his tongue; every flick, every press, every swirl is a combination of filthy intent and adoring praise. He's taking me apart, glorifying my body without ever oncedemeaning the experience.
“Jackson, please. I can’t hold it—just fuck me,” I gasp, my whole body shaking with how close I am.
He lifts his head, his lips glistening. He takes another long, slow breath, giving me a moment to gather myself. "Are you sure, baby? I want you to be ready. I want you to want this as much as I do."
"Yes," I gasp, arching into his touch, needing him to stop asking and just take. "I want you, Jackson, please."
His mouth returns to me, longer this time, harder, curling, sucking, lapping at me as my moans grow louder, muffled only by my hand. He murmurs filthy, adoring praises against my skin, whispering how delicious I taste, and how badly he's wanted me for years, his desperation turning into pure devotion.
I shatter, coming hard, clenching around his fingers and tongue as my back arches. He keeps going, not letting me catch my breath, pulling me immediately to a second climax with steady, adoring pressure. My body shakes, hands flying to grip his hair tightly, and I cry out—a sharp, muffled sound that he quickly covers with his hand.
Finally, when he pulls back, his face is glistening, his breathing heavy. He climbs up my body, kissing me deeply, and I taste myself on his tongue. "You're incredible," he whispers against my mouth, his voice hoarse. "So perfect for me, Stardust."
He positions himself between my legs, his erection hot and heavy against my entrance, teasing me with the tip. He waits, not moving a muscle, his eyes fixed on mine.
"Can I, Maya?" he asks, his voice low, heavy with lust, yet still asking permission.
"Please.” I pull him down for a kiss. "Justfuck me."
He slides in, slow and deliberate, watching my face, making sure every inch is mine to take, every breath accounted for. Iremember every time he’s done this before—how he fills me, stretches me perfectly, how the intensity is always so all-consuming it robs me of my breath, no matter how many times we’ve done it.
“You feel… so good,” he groans, eyes squeezing shut, voice rough with need. “So perfect around me.”
He holds still for a moment, letting us both adjust, letting every inch of him settle. Then he begins to move again, a slow, deep pace at first, familiar and precise, making me ache with every thrust.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs into my ear, still checking, still asking, even as his hips pick up a powerful, desperate rhythm. “Tell me if you need me to slow down.”
“Don’t stop,” I beg, legs tightening around his waist, pulling him deeper. “I want you. Just… fuck me, Jackson.”
The pace quickens instantly, turning desperate, hungry, and powerfully rhythmic.
"So good for me… you feel amazing… you're perfect… you're mine, Maya… all mine…"
I clench around him, shivering, moaning his name, undone by the combination of his words and his movements.
