Beloved Page 46


His head snaps up at my admission and I realize we’re both fighting the same temptation, both fighting something neither of us can explain—a connection that’s powerful and scary. I see the emotions I’m feeling mirrored in his eyes.

His lips inch closer to mine and his words are soft and dripping with honesty. “You’re never lost, Catherine. I’ll always find you.” His mouth crushes down on mine as his words resonate through me, bringing tears to my eyes. And there he is—my hero.

There’s no more time for talking as we express what our hearts are feeling with our mouths and tongues and hands and bodies. He hooks his arm under my legs and carries me to the bed. Tenderly, he lays me down and hovers over me. This time is different for me. A part of my heart will be his tonight, and I’m willingly giving it over. I know I’m not in love with him yet, but he’s breaking my defenses slowly but surely. I fight him and myself all to no avail. It’s only a matter of time.

Our entire night was foreplay and now, I’m aching for him. “Jackson, don’t make me beg.”

“No need for begging.” His head drops to my neck as he kisses and licks the sensitive skin behind my ear.

I start to shift and squirm, desperate for him to fill me and make me whole.

“Stay still,” he says as he pins my arms down and restrains me.

“I need you. Now.”

Instead of responding to my pleas, he releases my hands and glides his tongue down my side, purposely avoiding my br**sts. Making his way farther, I grow anxious as he continues across my stomach and then up my other side. I’m going f**king crazy! His strong arms keep me still and my body is tight, vibrating with need. When he makes his way back up to my ear, I’ve lost all control. I can’t take another second.

I’ve finally snapped. “I want you to f**k me. Right. Now.”

“I have all intentions of it, but first I’m going to drive you absolutely f**king crazy. Just like you do to me. This has just begun. The more you beg, the more I’ll make you wait.” The combination of his words and the timbre of his voice when he says them is too much. My muscles contract and deep-seated need courses its way through me, calling for him to take me and claim me.

He pushes up and puts the condom on, moving me higher on the bed. Lifting my leg, he pulls it to his mouth and makes his way down to my core. I lie there watching as he gets closer and closer, and my breath hitches as he avoids the one place I need him most. His tongue trails to the other leg and I groan and throw my head back. My breathing is erratic. I’m going out of my mind. We lock eyes as his tongue swipes up my center. My eyes close from the intense pleasure of finally being touched only to have him stop.

“I want you to watch me. If you look away, I’ll stop.” His low voice is fierce and commanding.

Keeping our eyes locked, he leans back down and licks my pu**y again, stirring an involuntary shudder. I watch as he begins sucking and licking over and over again. I’m fighting the urge to close my eyes. If he stops, I might combust, so I keep my eyes trained on him. It’s the most erotic thing, watching him. He looks up as he inserts two fingers, pumping, and my body tenses. Every muscle is locking, ready to finally release, and my eyes slam shut. Immediately, I feel his loss. No!

“I told you keep your eyes on me.” I nod, unable to speak from being so close and then having it taken away.

Jackson wastes no time as he sucks on my clit. When I feel his teeth bite down, I’m gone. I shout his name over and over and writhe in a pleasure only he gives me. I splinter into a million pieces as he pumps his fingers, drawing out my orgasm until I finally settle and become coherent.

When I open my eyes he’s above me, waiting for me to come back to reality. I bite my lip as I feel the tip of his dick brush against my sensitive clit. I spread my legs and press the heels of my feet on his ass, pushing him into me. His jaw is tight and he seems to be fighting his own needs. I push again but he’s so much stronger than me, so he barely moves.

“Please, f**k me,” I beg softly.

“I’m not going to f**k you this time,” he says in a hushed tone. “I’m going to go slow.” He leans down and kisses me deeply, swirling his tongue with mine as I moan, begging for more. “I’m going to show you how sexy and irresistible you are, how you test my patience.” He nips at my ear and then runs his tongue over where he just bit. “Then I’m going to f**k you until you beg me to stop.”

I rub my hand against his rough cheek. Once his eyes meet mine I groan and say, “Then do it already.”

His eyes blaze as he slowly fills me, stretching me and then pulling out fully. He enters me again and my eyes are heavy-lidded as he stares through to my soul. With each thrust he’s tearing me apart and then putting me back together again.

Quickly, he flips our positions so I’m on top. I push against him, grinding down and enjoying the intense fullness while he holds my h*ps and sets the pace. I lean back, bringing him impossibly deeper. He rubs his thumb on my cl*t and I lose my breath as the force of my sudden orgasm rips me apart. My body takes over, riding him harder, and I hear Jackson groan as he orgasms, both of us riding out the bliss together.

Chapter Twenty

I’m spent.

Completely and totally useless.

I’m lying against his chest, still unable to catch my breath. He runs his fingers lightly against my back before shifting me to go clean up. I groan and stretch as my muscles loosen from the aftermath of our intense sex session. The tightness reminds me of the obstacle course and how much my body ached afterward. But this is the kind of physical workout I welcome.

Jackson returns and flops on his stomach, giving me a view of his perfect ass. He really is magnificent. I kind of want to pinch myself—surely this can’t be real. He turns his head toward me with a smile and I place my hand on his back. I’ve never gotten a good look at the art on his shoulder. It’s really remarkable, so intricate, and has so many different parts to it. In the center are the bones of a frog. Its body wraps around from the front of his shoulder and ends with the head facing down on his back. In the frog’s hands is the trident of Poseidon, only the three spears of the trident aren’t spears, they’re names. Brian, Fernando, and Devon are written in an elegant script and the number four serves as the handle. It’s surrounded by black tribal ink. My finger grazes the frog and the labyrinth of tribal markings around it. Below it is the most beautiful quote.

We have this hope as an anchor for our soul, firm and secure. – Hebrews 6:19

It’s profound and speaks to my heart. There’s meaning behind each word. Hope is something we all have, and it’s often the only thing we can grasp when our world is shattering. I hoped for my father to return. I hoped for Neil to be faithful. Neither of those things happened, but that hope is what kept me going every day.

Jackson rolls and faces me with sad eyes, so different from just moments ago. I reach up, placing my hand on his heart, and he pulls me in, close enough so I can see the front of the tattoo. “What does your tattoo mean?” I feel him tense.

“It’s the tattoo you get when you lose someone on the team,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Is that the loss you’ve mentioned?”

“Some,” he replies and laces his fingers with mine, holding our clasped hands between us.

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