I love his instruction and detailed communication. His words are as much of a turn on as the look he’s giving me, like I’m the only woman in the world. I relax my jaw and open as widely as I can. Jackson starts to plunge deeper inside of me over and over again. His breathing is heavy and his movement’s jerky until he finally slides out. I feel the hot spurts of his come covering my chest.
“Stay right there,” he bites out his voice throaty and ragged. I watch him as his eyes roam over my body.
“Fuck, your pussy is so wet, I can see it from here. Get on the bed and spread your thighs,” he rasps. I idly wonder if he’s going to be wiping his come from my chest any time soon, but I don’t dare say a word. I slowly stand on shaky legs and walk over to the bed, spreading my thighs.
“Wider,” he orders harshly. I jump slightly before spreading them even wider, so wide I don’t think my body will allow them to move even an inch farther.
“Gorgeous,” he mutters crawling up the bottom of his bed. He places a kiss on my inner thigh and I can’t help the tremble that goes through me. He’s so close to where I want him, I can hardly breathe.
“Do you want me to eat this beautiful pussy?” His breath teases my wet center, sending chills all over my body, making me squirm.
“Please,” I pant, my chest heaving, the wetness of his come sliding over my skin now forgotten.
“Louder,” he growls, slapping the inside of my thigh – hard. The string radiates over my sensitive flesh.
“Please,” I cry out obediently. He chuckles before rewarding me, lightly sucking my clit between his lips, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub.
“Oh my god, Jackson,” I sigh, thrusting my center closer to his face. He growls and slides his tongue deep inside of me. I moan loudly as his tongue fills me, swirls around, pulls out and then repeats the process over and over.
“Now you’re going to be a good girl, Marguerite. I don’t want you to hold back; I want you to come on my face,” he orders with a grin.
My eyes widen as I nod; then his mouth is on my clit while two fingers slam into my core. It doesn’t take me long to come. As soon as his fingers start stroking me and his tongue flicks my clit repeadetly, I come hard. I scream out as my pussy pulses around his fingers. Jackson doesn’t let up; he continues his movements until my body completely relaxes beneath him.
“So beautiful. Fuck me,” he murmurs as he slides up my body. I couldn’t keep the lazy, satisfied smile from my face even if I tried.
“On your hands and knees,” he says, his voice demanding and unrelenting as he slides back down the bed and arches his eyebrow.
I do as he asks. I’m sure I’m moving too slowly, but he makes no comment. Instead, as soon as I’m on my stomach, he grabs my hips and yanks them up – anchoring himself deep inside of me stilling when he’s rooted to the hilt.
“Jackson,” I whisper. I wrap my fingers around the sheets holding on tightly. I feel so full of man, I can hardly breathe.
“Don’t talk,” he grinds out as his hand comes down and slaps my ass, hard; he then rubs the sting with his palm.
“Be my good girl, my good little bunny, and take me, Marguerite,” he moans. I whimper but don’t say anything. I can feel my pussy pulsing around him with need.
Without warning, I feel him pull almost completely out of me and then slam back inside with a groan. Jackson repeats this motion a few times before he slaps the other cheek of my ass, making me yelp with surprise. He doesn’t stop. He slams inside of me over and over before pausing and slapping my ass, alternating sides. When the first tears begin to fall from my eyes, tears of frustration from being on the edge of my orgasm for what seems like hours, Jackson slides his hand around my stomach and pinches my clit.
“I want this pussy to come, Marguerite. Strangle me - fucking come all over my cock, baby,” he breathes, hot and heavy in my ear, as he starts slapping my clit. I finally come. I come so hard, I almost pass out. Seconds later, he thrusts into me, pinning my body to the bed as he groans throughout the duration of his release.
“Good girl,” he whispers lazily, rocking him hips as he rides out his own orgasm.
I don’t have words. Jackson and I have been having sex for days, but it hasn’t been this intense. What we did tonight… it was mind blowing and I feel so much closer to him. I didn’t even know it was possible to be any closer, but I do. I am comfortable and this feels right, even if most of the world would probably say it was illicit and dirty. To me, it is nothing but good and right and, dare I say, even a bit sweet.
“Come and take a shower,” he exhales and I moan with regret. I just want to lie beneath him and sleep.
“Oh, all right,” I grumble taking his hand and letting him lead me into the shower.
“Even dried, my come looks good on you, beautiful.” He grins widely and I gasp, forgetting that he had done that all over me. Jackson just continues to look proudly at my breasts. “Not as good as your ass wearing my prints, though.”
I turn around to look in the mirror and, sure enough, there are several pink hand prints over both of my ass cheeks. I take a good look at them and a smile tugs on my lips. I love how they look against my creamy white skin. Jackson wraps his hands around my waist before sliding them up to cup my breasts, tugging on my nipples as his lips touch my neck.
“Come into the shower, babe,” he puffs against my skin. I follow him into his shower. The tile is already warm from the water and the steam. I reach for the soap, but Jackson bats my hand away before taking it himself.
“Let me take care of you,” he murmurs, and I do.
I let Jackson wash my whole body and then my hair, relishing the way his long fingers massage my body and then my scalp. He dries me off before carrying me to bed and wrapping the sheets around us, holding me close as he buries his face in my neck.
“Jackson,” I whisper as his fingers stroke my stomach.
“Marguerite?”
“Thank you,” I say quietly and he just places a kiss on my neck as his fingers dig into the flesh of my stomach.
“Sleep, my gorgeous girl.”
I do sleep; for the first time in my life, I sleep so fully, so heavily, and so completely, I don’t know how I could have eluded myself into thinking that what I’ve been doing for years is sleeping. Really, it was simply resting before now, before this – before Jackson.
I WATCH MAGGIE AS SHE sleeps next to me, feeling her chest rise and fall with each breath, and I can’t believe that I am this lucky. Marguerite is extraordinary. She is soft and sweet, but she is also strong. She takes everything that I give her in bed and I know that soon, she’ll be able to take more. I never imagined she would have this amount of strength.
Easing her slowly into this life, into us, should be a challenge of my control, but it isn’t. Oddly enough, I feel as though I don’t need as much rough play as I used to with other women. Just giving her what I know she needs is more than enough for me. Watching her eyes when I know that she is flying high from my domination is more of a turn on than anything else in the world. I don’t need the toys and the parties to feel full and content. I am content just being us; a slap and a tickle is enough for me, which is surprising.
I have never been so happy.
Vanilla sex used to hold little to no appeal; but with Marguerite, I know I can handle a lifetime of Vanilla, mixed with a little fun, and be happy. I can’t deny that I am pleased as fuck that she is willing to accept a little more. When she crawled over to me a few hours ago and accepted my demands and my cock, no questions asked, I couldn’t believe it. Then painting her ass red with my palm made her pussy quiver and gush with excitement. I almost came right then and there.
No matter how good this is between the two of us now, I feel an overwhelming sense of dread hovering over us. That fucker Elliot is going to rear his ugly head and fuck this up - I just know it.
Elliot is dangerous, powerful, and twisted as shit. I have been witness to what he deems a scene more than
once and it turned my stomach. I don’t know what he wants with Marguerite, or what he’ll try to do, but I sure as fuck am not going to let him hurt her. She’s been hurt enough in the past and I won’t allow it to happen ever again.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand and I grudgingly roll away from my woman’s warmth to see who in the hell is calling me at midnight. I am surprised to see it’s my brother, Adam. Grabbing my phone and walking out of the bedroom so I don’t disturb Marguerite, I answer the call.
“What’s up, bro,” I grumble. Typically, middle of the night phone calls from Adam aren’t good news.
“Hey, I’m gonna be in town for a couple weeks and wanted to know if I could crash at your apartment and see my big brother?”
I chew on my thumbnail, uncertain as to whether or not I want to invite Adam into my home and into my relationship with Marguerite. It isn’t that I’m worried that my brother will try anything with her. I am, however, concerned about whatever trouble Adam could bring with him. We don’t need any more trouble these days. We have e-fucking-nough.
“I uh, I got a woman staying with me, but yeah, I don’t see it being a problem,” I reluctantly accept.
“Girlfriend?” the nosy bastard asks. I know once I answer the question, there is no going back. Adam will want to meet her and test her.
“Yeah, she’s sweet. You’ll like her. Just, don’t bring any trouble here, man,” I warn. Adam grumbles but he doesn’t get defensive, knowing what kind of crowd he deals with.
“I need to lay low for a while,” he admits. I press my fingers to my temple.
“Yeah, it’s cool, come on up. When’ll you be here?” I ask.
Cool fingers wrap around my waist and I turn in Marguerite’s arms, sliding one of my hands up her smooth back and into her hair. Looking right into her gorgeous blue eyes, I sigh like a big fucking pussy. She’s so damn pretty that sometimes it hurts to look directly at her.
“Tomorrow morning around eight.”
“All right, little brother, we’ll see you then,” I say quietly feeling Marguerite relax even more into my arms. I wonder what was going through her mind when she woke up to find me on a phone call. I can only imagine, considering who her husband was.
“Your brother is coming tomorrow?” she asks, her voice husky with sleep and sexy as shit. Nodding, I place a kiss on her forehead.
“I didn’t want to wake you. He’s always in some kind of trouble. He’s driving up from New Jersey and he’ll be here a few weeks. I can take you back to your place tomorrow if you feel uncomfortable with him around,” I offer. I watch as she chews on her pretty pink lips and then smiles softly at me, effectively sending a punch to my gut with all that is her.
“I don’t really want to go back there, Jackson.” Her words are just above a whisper, but they go straight to my cock.
“Then you’ll stay here, babe. I like having you in my bed, my beautiful girl,” I say, brushing my lips against hers before I pick her up and carry her back to bed.
I need her. I need to feel her. I need to make love to her, soft and gently. I slide deep inside of her ready and waiting body. It isn’t long before we both feel the slow burn erupt, our moans filling my bedroom.
I fall asleep with my body pressed against hers and I can’t imagine my life any differently.
Marguerite is mine - she’ll always be mine and I’ll always be hers.
I am such a pussy for this girl.
Totally lost to her.
Totally lost in her.
I don’t know Jackson; not really. I didn’t even know he had a brother. I don’t know if his parents are alive, if they are still married or divorced? Did he have any other siblings? I feel lost. I feel like this relationship isn’t real.
Once again, Jackson knows everything about me and I realize that I know absolutely nothing about him. His brother calling proves that fact and I can’t stop the doubt that creeps into my mind. It feels like we are two people who care about each other and like to have sex, but nothing more. Is there more? I am falling in love with him, but how can I when I don’t know a single personal detail about the man? It isn’t like he has ever offered to tell me about himself. He is holding back from me and I don’t know or understand why.
I wake up early the next morning before I shower and dress. I don’t want to be caught naked by Jackson’s brother. I’m standing at the stove, making bacon, eggs, biscuits, and gravy, when I feel Jackson’s warmth wrap around me. His bare arms hold my stomach while his lips touch the side of my neck.
“You’re up early and cooking,” he murmurs against my skin, sending a shiver through my body. I want him again, and that deep murmur has me panting for him even without his touch.
“Your brother should be here any minute, right?” I ask. Jackson hums against my skin while his hand travels up to cup my breast over the tank top I threw on.
“Jackson,” I whisper as he pinches my nipple through my shirt and bra, hard.
“Quiet and make breakfast,” he chides harshly into my ear while his fingers quickly unbutton my shorts. He pushes them halfway down my thighs along with my panties.
I flip over the bacon and stir the eggs as two thick fingers slide inside of me. I let out a ragged breath and a moan when his fingers begin to pump in and out of me. His warm, hard, chest presses against my back as his hard-on nestles between my ass cheeks. I arch my back, rubbing myself against his cock, and I hear him groan right before he pinches my clit.
“Don’t wind me up too much, little bunny. I’ll be taking you hard soon enough, babe.”
A thrill of excitement runs through my body at the thought of his thick cock sliding inside of me hard and uninhibited. All thoughts of not knowing him well enough fly out the window and all I can do is feel him around me and inside of me.
I can’t think about it much longer, though. Jackson begins scissoring his fingers inside of me, pinching one of my nipples with his other hand, driving me to the brink of insanity. I reach up and weave my fingers through the back of his hair, coming with a ragged cry. My whole body goes stiff in front of him before sagging in delicious relief.
“Finish breakfast,” he whispers before pulling his fingers out of me and rearranging my clothes.
My head is swimming in a fog as I turn my body to watch him walk away, his bare back and ass taunting me with each step. I shiver at the sight of him, so beautiful from every direction. With shaky arms, hands, and legs I finish making breakfast for Jackson, Adam and myself. As soon as I’m done setting the table with coffee, orange juice, and milk, the door buzzes.
“I got it, babe,” Jackson calls out. I suck in a deep breath.
I have never done this before, met my man’s family. Sammy didn’t have any family and I left mine far behind in Vegas. I wipe my sweaty hands, now shaky for a completely different reason, on my shorts and look up just in time to watch Jackson and his brother walk into the room. Jackson’s arm is slung around a slightly younger version of himself and I see the love radiating from the both of them, matching smiles plastered on their faces.
“Adam this is my girl, Marguerite,” Jackson boasts. I take a step forward holding my hand out to shake Adam’s.
“Hello, beautiful,” Adam mumbles as he wraps his hand around mine.
I look into Adam’s eyes and notice they are at least a shade darker than Jackson’s, and a million times more haunted. The darkness swimming inside of them startles me and I blink trying to look away - but I can’t, they have me pinned.
“Call me Maggie, please,” I breathe. He winks, breaking the spell.
“Okay, Maggie,” he purrs as I motion to the table and tell them to sit down and eat.
“Fuck me, Jackson, you’re woman rocks,” he grins, loading up his plate with a heaping amount of food.
I’m not a great cook, but I love breakfast foods and used to sneak them when Sammy was out on the road. By the gaunt features on his face, It looks like Adam hasn’t eaten in maybe a week. I eat in silence, listening to the
brothers talk and catch up; it’s a dynamic I’m not used to and it makes me slightly uncomfortable.
“So, what do you do for work, Maggie?” Adam asks me. Immediately, I hear Jackson clear his throat.
“I uh… my husband wouldn’t let me work and I haven’t decided what I’m going to do now,” I shamefully admit.
I am caught off guard. Nobody has asked me that question in years, not since I really did work. It was always just assumed that pro-ball players’ wives didn’t work, not real jobs anyway. As far as I know, Amalie is the only one of us who still works; and even she quit her ultrasound tech job to model occasionally.
“You’re married?” He furrows his brows and I open my mouth to explain, but Jackson beats me to it.
“Marguerite is a widow, Adam. Her husband passed about a year ago; he was Sammy Rodgers.”
Adam nods; but when it dawns on him exactly who Sammy Rodgers was, his eyes widen as he suspends his fork in the air.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Maggie.” He looks pale but I just smile softly.
“You had no way of knowing. It’s all right, Adam,” I say with a small smile. We finish breakfast in almost silence. I clean up while the guys go into the other room to talk, probably to discuss the real reason Adam is here. I imagine it can’t be good, considering he looks like he hasn’t eaten in a week or slept in two – maybe more.
“What do you mean you’re mixed up with a bookie?” I hear Jackson shout and then Adam’s words are lost in his mumbled reply.
I lean against the counter and try to breathe. Bookies are no damn joke and if Adam is truly mixed up with one somehow, I know that none of us will be safe. Jackson is a huge known sports figure. He is the buzz of the season, since he has taken over Sammy’s position. Sammy was so well loved it would have been a tough spot for anybody to fill. Jackson has done it not only with class, but with more talent than Sammy - even with the few crappy games he played while we were split up. My mind is swimming with what-if scenarios when the phone rings. I look down and see that it is Amalie.
Catching Maggie Page 14