Page 41 of Love Set Free

But what I can do is go for my own dick. It’s stiff and uncomfortably confined in my pants, so, resting my weight partially on my left arm, which is wedged between Jackson’s body and the back cushions of the couch, and partially on Jackson beneath me, I reach my right hand down to unbutton and unzip my linen shorts. I sigh in relief when I pull my hard dick free. The tip is already wet from pre-cum and I know it probably won’t take me long to come.

“Are you… Oh, Jesus, are you touching your dick?”

I grunt in answer to Jackson’s question.

“What about me? Can I touch it?”

Shiiit. A heavy pulse of more pre-cum spurts from my slit. How can such a simple question manage to sound both innocent and devilishly seductive?

I think about it. I really, really do. I can’t deny that I would love to have Jackson’s hands on me, any part of me. But, God, the idea of his hands on my cock…

“Next time,” I pant. “Next time, I promise.”

My dick is throbbing within the tight grip of my hand and I’m jerking it fast, because, holy fuck, I’m unbelievably almost there. My orgasm is definitely about to hit. I doubt Jackson would even be able to get his hand on my cock and stroke it for more than a second or two before I blow.

“Oh.”

He sounds disappointed by my refusal, so I tell him again, “You can do it…next time. Okay?”

“Ugh. Fine.” Jackson’s huff of acquiescence blows hot against my earlobe and I shudder.

Another shudder racks through me as Jackson’s thumb sweeps over my nipple, then begins thrumming the pebbled nub. Jesus, the action sends pleasure shooting straight down from my chest to my cock and I start stroking myself faster. Harder.Squeezing my shaft just that little bit extra right where I like it, just before the flare of the head.

A hot, slick tongue licks the tender flesh of my earlobe. And then it’s being sucked into the hot, wet, lushness of Jackson’s mouth and…I’m coming. Ohfuck, I’m coming.

“Aaaaagghhh…" A garbled moan tumbles from my mouth as spurt after uncontrollable spurt of cum shoots out of me.

“Oh, Phee.Yesss.“ Jackson sounds as lust-drunk as I feel. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’d been the one to orgasm and not me. “Thank you. Oh, thank you.”

I grunt some nonsensical sound at him because there’s absolutely nothing for him to be thanking me for. Unless it’s for using him, again, as some sort of sexual aid and then getting cum on what he’s wearing. I try to catch it all in my hand, but I ‘m not able to. Some of it definitely dribbles out of my cupped palm and onto his clothes.

Jackson turns my head until he can reach my mouth, then he lays a series of kisses against my lips, each one slow and savoring. It’s like he’s trying to taste my satisfaction on my lips.

I’m happy to let him kiss me, and to kiss him in return. But soon enough, the pool of cum in my hand cools into a sticky glob. So, I reluctantly pull my mouth away from his and tell him, “I should go clean up.” Which I then quickly amend to, “Weshould go clean up," thinking of the cum that also landed on him.

“Hmm. Good idea,” Jackson agrees. “Once we do, you wanna finish watching the movie? Can’t say as I’m particularly invested in it, but if you want to…”

Honestly, putting a movie on was just an excuse I used to spend more time with him before we turned in for the night. I figured that once we were in the same bed again, I’d be tempted to jump him and I’d been honorably trying to avoid that for as long as possible. Of course, I hadn’t anticipated that Jackson would be the one to make a move on me first.

I should probably stop doing that. For all that Jackson seems reticent and passive around other people, he certainly hasn’t had any issue with going after what he wants with me.

“No, that’s okay,” I reply. “I’ve already seen it before. Why don’t we just head to bed? We’ll get cleaned up, throw some pajamas on…”

“Or not,” Jackson counters with a wink.

Fuck, my mind boggles at the thought of climbing into bed with Jackson with no clothing on to come between us. That Jackson is the one suggesting it…

“Yeah, or not,” I agree, my voice rough and gravelly with a renewed surge of lust.

Jackson pokes at my stomach, offers me a cheeky grin, then says, “Last one to the bathroom’s a rotten egg.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jackson

To my relief, Phoenix honored his promise and had one of the pilots take a look at his hand almost first thing when we got to the airport this morning.

I’m not sure why I was expecting us to go to the same double-horseshoe-shaped international airport that I’d flown into, way back at the beginning of January. Phoenix and his parents had casually mentioned that we’d be flying back to the U.S. on their private, family-owned plane a couple of times, but for some reason it hadn’t hit me that we’d be boarding that plane at a small, private airstrip.

---