I wondered where his question came from. "Do you really need your ego inflating after that?" I said, laughing.
He gave me an amused smile. "Other than just having had two spectacular orgasms, how do you feel?"
"Relaxed, happy, safe," I said, taking the towel he passed me. He flung a towel around himself, water still running over his chest and biceps. He then started to dry me down, softly, carefully, as if I was the most precious, delicate creation. "I can dry myself, Jacks."
"I know," he said quietly. "But I want you to let me look after you. Doesn't mean you can't do it."
I brushed my hands through his damp hair as he went again to his knees to dry my legs and in between them. He was half hard again, but his ministrations were tender rather than trying to turn me on, not that it wasn't having that effect anyway. "Who looks after you?"
He looked up at me, his hands drying my feet. "Maxwell, Claire. The rest of my siblings. Marie and Dad in his own way. And my friends – Amelie especially. I like being in control and having power, Vanessa, it's who I am. But I'm strong enough to know that I can't do everything on my own, unlike Max."
He was making a point but I decided not to dwell on it. "Will you tell Max you christened his room first?"
Jackson lightly kissed the inside of my thigh and I realized I was getting wetter rather than dryer in a certain spot. "No. I'll make sure I'm here the next time he visits and I'll just smirk when he comes in here."
"He'll get revenge."
"Eventually." He stood up and kissed me, his towel slipped and he pressed his body against mine. He was fully hard, his cock pressing against my stomach. I moved my hand down his body and cupped his balls, hearing his sharp intake of breath.
"I want you again," I said.
"Carpet? Check out the softness?"
I took his hand and guided him out of the bathroom; as soon as I found the soft carpet I lay down, guiding him over me and positioning his cock so it was ready to enter.
"Are you ready for me?" he said, his hands either side of my shoulders.
I shifted, angling myself so his cock was close to where I wanted it. "So ready. I don't get how you turn me into this pool of raging horniness."
He moved a hand and checked me, brushing my clit. "As long as it stays that way," he said, pushing into me deeply again. This time he was rougher, harder, his fingers pinching my nipples, teeth biting my neck. He went onto his knees, pulling my hips further up so he was balls deep and at that point, my mind wasn't lost, it was well and truly drowned in the Pacific Ocean, too deep for any search party to even attempt to find.
I felt Jackson's weight on top of me as he groaned and I wrapped my legs around his waist, keeping him close, keeping him inside me. "I think my body's addicted to your semen," I said, managing to find words eventually. "It's clearly mixed with a cocaine-like substance and I'm going to need it to keep me sane."
He nuzzled into my neck. "You can have as much of it as you want. Just ask. And you don't always need words to ask." He stretched an arm out and pulled a towel to us. "Lift your hips." He pulled the towel under me and pulled out, watching between my legs. I should've felt vulnerable, being so open, my body there for his viewing. "You look fucking beautiful, lying there, dripping with me." His eyes then met mine and I knew that if he suggested we never returned to London and just stayed here forever I was likely to agree, which in itself, was somewhat of a problem as I really needed to eat.
"I'd look fucking beautiful eating lunch too," I said, sitting up, thankful for the towel underneath me. "Bathroom, change of clothes and then lunch maybe?" I stood up as he laughed and headed for the toilet, closing the door.
"There's a decent pub about a mile away through the fields if you fancy a walk there?"
"Sounds good. A different form of exercise would be nice too." I opened the door and Jackson handed me my briefs and jeans.
"Or you could stay like that and I'll order in," he said, his eyes flicking to my breasts.
I stepped into my briefs and then my jeans. "No, Jackson. We need to do something else other than screw each other's brains out."
He pulled on his top. "Fair enough. I need some recovery time anyway."
I agreed. His balls must've been pretty well emptied.
We toured the rest of the house before we left to walk to the pub in the nearby village. The house belonged in a magazine; it was full of discreet touches that made it seem stylish without losing its warmth. Jackson explained what the rooms used to look like when his dad and Marie had seven children running around the place and for a stupid moment I felt the pull of a large family, something I'd never had, with someone always there to play with or talk to.
My phone had been ignored for the latter part of the morning. When I checked it I saw three missed calls from Sophie and a voicemail.
"Everything okay?" Jackson said, putting the keys to the house in his pocket after locking the door.
"Not sure." I listened to the voicemail. "Shit."
"What is it?"
