Skin Deep

by Evans, Anna J.

  Nicky moaned and wiggled her hips, taking him in even deeper. “You make me wet, I can’t help it.”

  “Little slut.”

  “Yes,” she said, a shudder of desire working through her body as her pussy tightened around where he lay buried inside her. “I’m a dirty little slut who likes to get fucked. So go ahead and fuck me al—”

  “Watch your mouth, slut,” Jackson said, delivering a sharp smack on the cheek of her ass, his cock swelling inside Nicky as she cried out in excitement. “I’ll fuck you when I’m ready to fuck you. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes,” she said, another cry escaping her lips as he swatted her other cheek.

  “Yes, sir,” he corrected, moving his hands back to her hips and digging his fingers into the full flesh with enough force to make her moan in pleasure at the slight hint of pain.

  “Yes, sir.” The tension in the muscles trembling beneath his hands made it clear Nicky wouldn’t last much longer. A few more cracks of his hand and she was going to come before he had the chance to thrust inside her a second time.

  Normally he’d be glad to feel her come at least once before he did himself, but not now. Not even thinking of dead puppies was going to help him maintain control if Nicky’s pussy started pulsing around his aching cock. He was too close to his own release.

  “I’m going to fuck you, but you’d better not come until you get permission,” Jackson said, beginning to pump in and out, slowly at first, but with enough force that Nicky’s ass rippled every time he thrust home. “If you come before, I’m going to use those clothespins on your pussy.”

  “Yes, god, yes.” She gasped and her breath came faster as his rhythm increased.

  The clear desire in her voice was nearly enough to make Jackson laugh, no matter how close he was to the edge. He should have known Nick wouldn’t consider clamps on her pussy lips a punishment. She was into a little bit of pain. He could understand the kink completely. He enjoyed a little pain himself, and couldn’t wait to feel her teeth on him again, raking across his lip, digging into his bicep as she writhed beneath him.

  “Don’t come. Don’t come, Nicky,” Jackson said, punctuating his words by beginning to spank her in earnest.

  “Please, I can’t wait. Please,” she begged, her breath coming so fast he feared she might hyperventilate. “Please, I can’t.”

  “You can. You will,” he said, abandoning the last of his control, holding back nothing as he drove into her slick sheath. “Wait for me. Wait.”

  Faster and faster he moved, ramming inside Nicky even as he reddened her ass until his hand itched and stung. She cried out and shoved back into his strokes, her fingernails digging into the carpet, desperate little grunts sounding at the back of her throat as she got closer and closer, until finally he knew she couldn’t hold back a second longer.

  “Come, come on my cock.” He groaned as Nicky screamed his name and her pussy squeezed his dick. Seconds later, he lost himself inside her, thick jets pulsing from his aching sac with a bliss that was almost painful. This time, he didn’t pull out, but spent himself deep inside her welcoming heat, the sensation of marking her insides with his cum making the orgasm hotter than any he could remember.

  Jackson’s entire body shook with the force of his release, turning his bones to jelly by the time the waves of pleasure finally began to abate. “God, Nick,” he panted as he fell forward, palms landing on either side of Nicky’s. He buried his face in the sweat-dampened hair at her neck and inhaled the intoxicating scent of aroused woman. “I love fucking you.”

  “I think it’s clear I love getting fucked,” she said, her voice breathy with laughter. “That was . . . perfect.”

  “I’m just sorry I couldn’t make you come at least twice.” Jackson wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer, relishing the feel of his cock softening inside her. “I knew I wouldn’t last through more than one, you felt too amazing.”

  “But what a one it was.” She sighed as she twined the fingers of her left hand with his. “I’m not greedy—one can be plenty. Though, next time, let’s skip the next-to-the-fire thing. Very romantic, but I’m a little dizzy from the heat.”

  “And here I thought it was my superior fucking skills.”

  She laughed. “That probably has something to do with it, too.” She shifted beneath him, dropping her forehead to the carpet. “I actually don’t mind the dizziness, but the dripping sweat I could do without.”

  “I don’t know. I like a little sweat.” He ran his tongue along her shoulder, catching the lightly salty taste of her with his tongue.

  “Me too, until it dries and starts to get all sticky and gross.”

  “Hint taken.” Jackson pulled out of Nicky and sat back on his heels, watching her as she rolled over to face him. “What would you say to a shower?”

  “I’d love one.” She grinned as she met his eyes. “I’m assuming this shower will be coed?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t want you to have to clean your own back. Or pussy.” He stood and then reached down to help Nicky to her feet, marveling that even something as simple as taking her hand sent a shock of electricity through his body. “Besides, someone has to show you how to work the shower nozzle.”

  “Oh, I know how,” she said. “In fact, I think I could show you a few things, mister.” She reached her hand between his legs, cupping his sac and rolling his balls in her fingers. “I could do a few very nice things to these in massage mode.”

  “I bet you could.” He groaned and bent down to capture her lips.

  She met his tongue with her own, sighing as they explored each other with a sweetness that surprised him. No matter how raunchy the tone of their fucking, it seemed the tender mood they’d established before hadn’t been destroyed. In fact, if anything he felt he loved her more than he had a few minutes ago.

  “I love you,” he mumbled against her lips. “I hope you know I’m not going to stop saying that anytime soon. If it freaks you out, you’ll just have to get over it.”

  “I think I can do that.” She wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him, pressing her breasts and the clothespins still attached to them against his chest.

  “Are you ready for those to come off?” he asked, running one hand up to cup the underside of her breast. “They must be stinging a bit by now.”

  “I like stinging, but, yeah. They need to come off if you’re going to soap my nipples.” She pulled away from him and removed the clothespins, a mischievous look on her face. “And once you’ve done my nipples, you might as well get my tits all slick and soapy and fuck them in the shower. I heard something about a man wanting to fuck some tits awhile back. That was you, right?”

  Nicky squealed and made a run for the stairs as Jackson lunged toward her, squeals that turned to laughter as he chased her straight into the shower. They jumped inside and turned on the water without waiting for it to get hot, clinging to each other for the first few chilly minutes. Then, when the cool stream had warmed, Nicky reached for the soap and turned back to him with a smile. A smile that promised everything naughty and nice, everything Jackson hadn’t dared to hope for.

  His deepest, most secret wish was coming true. Nicky was going to be his, and this time he was never going to let her go. No matter what he had to do to keep her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nicky indulged in a full body stretch, luxuriating in the softness of Jackson’s featherbed. Her body ached in all sorts of forgotten places, but it was the soreness along her jaw muscles that shocked her the most. When was the last time she’d smiled so much it made her face hurt? Had that ever happened?

  But then why shouldn’t she be smiling?

  A few feet away, a gorgeous man who had made her come twice in the shower and two more times once they’d stumbled into his bedroom was digging through his suitcase and making noises about cooking tortellini for dinner. Every once in a while, he turned around to smile at her as he plucked jeans and a tight brown sweater from the neatly fo
lded clothes in his bag and pulled them on, the look in his eyes leaving no doubt that he loved her.

  He loved her. Jackson still loved her, and wanted them to have a future together.

  The thought was exhilarating . . . and completely terrifying. Despite the fact that she felt the same way about him and he seemed to be everything she’d ever wanted in a partner, there was still that shred of doubt.

  What would he do when he found out the mess she’d gotten herself into with her ex? No matter how much he loved her, she was betting it would be hard for Jackson to respect her knowing she’d willingly turned her entire life over to a man she’d barely known for six months before they were married. He would think she was a complete fool. Hell, she thought she was a fool, so she couldn’t really blame him.

  And even if he could look past her poor decisions, what would Jackson do when he found out she wasn’t flying solo anymore? That she came with extra baggage in the form of a nearly one-year-old little girl?

  Would he still want her when he found out the truth? And even if he did, would he be able to really love another man’s child? Nicky couldn’t imagine living with and loving a man who couldn’t love her little girl as much as she did. And if that meant she was destined to be alone for the rest of her life, so be it. When she finally got her daughter back, she was going to make whatever sacrifices were necessary to ensure Abby had the happy, healthy, idealistic childhood she and Jackson hadn’t.

  Even if that meant giving up her second chance with the man of her dreams.

  “I’m going down to start supper,” Jackson said, turning back to her with a pile of clothes in his large hands. Nicky hurried to force a smile back to her face, not wanting him to see the direction her thoughts had been taking. “I brought you jeans, a sweater, and a long-sleeve T-shirt for underneath. In case the sweater’s itchy. Size two on the jeans and small on everything else. Is that about right?”

  “That’s perfect.” She took the clothes from his hands, marveling at the softness of the pale blue sweater. It was obviously very expensive, which made her a little sad. She’d been with Derrick for years and he’d never spent money on clothes for her. Pricey lingerie, yes, but those had been more for his pleasure than her own.

  “Just about perfect.” Jackson reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with a smile. “A little skinny, but I think I can remedy that. I’m a pretty decent cook if I do say so myself.”

  “You’re an amazing cook, but you can’t fatten me up until I get some modeling work first. I’ve got bills to pay, my friend, and people prefer their models bony.”

  “What people? I think most men would like to see a little more meat on a woman’s bones. Especially a lingerie model’s.” He smiled and moved toward the stairs. “Besides, I’ve got enough money to take care of your bills. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Jackson,” Nicky said, waiting until he stopped and turned back to her before continuing. “I don’t want you to pay my bills. I care about you and I love submitting to you, but I’ve learned there are aspects of my life that I need to be in control of myself.”

  He nodded. “Understood. But just know I’d love to help you if you decide to take me up on the offer,” he said, the matter clearly dismissed. “Now hurry up and get dressed. I’m going to put you to work chopping vegetables—can’t have you thinking you’ll be waited on every meal.”

  “Yes, sir.” Nicky smiled and made a show of leaping out of the bed and scrambling into her jeans, making Jackson laugh before he headed down the stairs.

  As soon as he was gone, however, she felt her spirits deflate and sank back down onto the bed.

  The fact that he’d so easily understood what had been a huge point of contention early in her marriage to Derrick just made her more anxious. Jackson really was the man she’d been dreaming about, the type of dom who understood that being in control of a submissive didn’t have to mean taking charge of absolutely every aspect of her life. She just knew he’d never try to make her sign the kind of contract Derrick had, the one that gave the dominant partner complete control over his submissive’s finances as well as everything else. Men like Jackson didn’t need that kind of stran glehold on another person to feel in control.

  “Right, and how stupid is he going to think you are for agreeing to sign something like that in the first place?” Nicky dropped her face into her hands with a sigh. When had this weekend become so complicated? She had a gift for getting herself in impossible situations.

  This isn’t impossible, just impractical and crazy and probably doomed from the start.

  Damned inner voice. No sense in sitting around listening to it prophesy certain disaster.

  Nicky stood and shrugged on the long-sleeved tee and sweater—which was one hundred percent angora from Neiman Marcus, so her expensive vibes had been right on the money—and headed to the bathroom to try to do something with her hair.

  She worked a little of Jackson’s gel through the still-damp curls and then dug through her purse for some lipstick and mascara, determined to look as good as possible considering she had few of her usual weapons of beautification. She wanted to look pretty for Jackson, to just relax and enjoy the rest of their time at the cabin together, but she knew she had to take more aggressive action.

  There was no point in stressing out about what he would think of her stupider decisions, or foretelling the end of their relationship before they’d even really begun. She was just going to have to talk to him, tell him everything, and let him make his own decisions about what he could or couldn’t deal with in a woman he was dating.

  Dating. It was a strange word to think of in conjunction with her and Jackson.

  They weren’t the dating kind. Their relationship was already far too intense for such a casual term. After only a day, she felt she couldn’t breathe as well when he wasn’t in the room. Jackson could quickly become a person she depended on, someone she needed as much as she needed anything else in the world.

  Dangerous, scary thoughts there, Nicky.

  “Well, life can be scary. And not everything worth having is easy,” she said to her reflection as she coated her lashes with dark brown mascara.

  That’s what you said about Derrick. Look how that turned out.

  “Oh, shut up. Just shut up.” Nicky threw her gloss back into her purse.

  Great, now she was yelling at the voices in her head. She had to nip this insanity in the bud.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, Nicky turned toward the stairs. She would go down to the kitchen and tell Jackson everything. Right now. Before they ate tortellini, before she fell any more head over heels for him than she was already. Even if telling the truth meant she would lose him, at least she’d know how this was going to end. She couldn’t handle any more suspense.

  Suspense was one of her least favorite things . . . unless it was of the sexual variety.

  She was nearly to the bottom of the stairs when she heard Jackson talking and froze in place. For a second she thought someone else must have arrived at the cabin, but after a few seconds it became clear he was on the phone. She hadn’t seen a landline in the any of the rooms, so it must be his cell. Which made her wonder if her own cell was getting reception.

  Some smarty-pants she was. And here she’d thought that stellar grade on her GED and the A’s in the classes she’d taken at the community college had meant something. Checking her cell reception should have been the first thing she did as soon as she was alone if she’d really been focused on getting out of here and away from her captor.

  Of course, that was the problem right there. She hadn’t wanted to get away, not really. Not even when she’d run from Jackson when they’d parked on the side of the road. Even as she’d run like hell for the headlights coming around the corner, she’d wanted him to catch her.

  “Yeah, I need a complete background check. I want to see what she’s been up to,” Jackson said to the person at the other end of the line.

  Background c
heck? On her? Dear god, what did he think she’d been doing for the past eight years that required a background check? He was the one who had turned into a kidnapper.

  “See if there’s any criminal record, and if so, what she was charged with.”

  Oh. My. God. He thought she was a criminal, and was making sure she wasn’t dangerous before he took things any further in their relationship. The lack of trust implied by that action was . . . staggering. She’d trusted him not to hurt her and submitted to him without question, even after he’d told her he intended to permanently mark her body without her permission. And still he was the one who felt the need to do a background check.

  It didn’t just hurt her feelings—it made her angry. Really angry. With Jackson, but more important, with herself.

  She should have known better. After years in a horrible dom-sub relationship, she’d been ready to jump right back into another one in less than a day. It didn’t matter that Jackson wasn’t a stranger, he was still a person she’d had no contact with for the past eight years. She should have insisted on moving forward slowly if they were going to move forward at all. Going to bed with your kidnapper mere hours after getting into his car and professing your love for him twenty-four hours later was insane. She obviously needed some kind of intensive anti-sub therapy.

  Which she was going to make sure to get, as soon as she got the hell away from here.

  Jackson went ahead and chopped the tomatoes, garlic, and fresh basil himself. Nicky was taking forever upstairs, but he didn’t want to rush her. She’d said something about wanting to fix her hair and makeup before dinner and he knew how long those girlish things could take. And even though he thought she was just as beautiful without makeup on and her hair in crazy curls, knowing she wanted to dress up just for him made him smile.

  A lot. Smiling and humming a little tune, he put the tortellini on to boil and fetched the pine nuts, fresh mozzarella, and baby green beans from the fridge.