Page 44 of Coming Home

When Jackson finally broke the kiss, he said, “No regrets. Ever. You’re the one that I want, Ainsley. We’ll learn together what pleases each other.” He smiled. “And have a whole lot of fun while we do so. It won’t all happen the first time. In one night. But we’ve got a lifetime to discover everything about one another.”

He swept her into his arms. “I also know if I don’t get these clothes off you soon, I might explode.”

A teasing light came into her eyes. “Well, we can’t have that. I am getting rather warm. I could stand to shed a few layers. And I am eager to see what’s under your clothes, too.”

Her words caused him to rush into the bedroom. Fumbling with the light switch, he turned it on. She frowned.

“We are not doing this in the dark,” he told her. “I want to see the beautiful package I’m unwrapping. Not just feel and smell it. I want to watch you come and hear you cry out my name.”

Ainsley’s eyes widened. She swallowed visibly. “I want to see you, too,” she said softly.

He set her on her feet, kissing her again, his fingers pushing into the silky tresses as he devoured her mouth. She moaned low, clinging to him, making him smile.

He broke the kiss and proceeded to remove her sweater, his fingers skimming her skin once it was removed. They danced up her arms and across her shoulders. Down her back, unclasping her bra and discarding it. Bare to the waist now, she blushed.

“I’ve told you before—and I’ll say it every day of our lives together. You are beautiful. So very, very beautiful.”

He nuzzled her neck, finding her pulse, sensing her jump at the touch of his lips against it. Her scent drove him wild, and he kissed her throat, finally nipping at it, hearing her whimper.

“I could gobble you up,” he declared, his eyes dropping to her breasts.

“I see where you’re looking, Mr. Martin,” she said primly. “And I have a request. I’d like to feel your bare skin against mine.”

“That’s an easy fix.” He grabbed the hem of his shirt and quickly pulled it over his head, tossing it aside, then reached for her again, his arms enveloping her. “Mmm. Good idea,” he murmured, his lips returning to her throat.

He kissed his way downward, his hands moving to cup her breasts, his thumbs finding her erect nipples and moving in slow circles around them. Her sigh was music to his ears.

“You’re still wearing too much,” he told her as he unbuttoned her jeans, backing her to the bed.

She bumped into the mattress and sat as he knelt and removed her shoes and thick socks, setting them directly under the bed. Standing, he took her hands and pulled her to her feet again. This time, he slid down her zipper and peeled the skintight jeans from her. She lifted each foot, helping him remove them totally.

Now, she stood in a pair of black panties, dark against her pale skin, his heart beginning to pound, the blood rushing to his ears. He cupped her, feeling how damp she already was, and pushed aside the material, sliding a finger into her. Ainsley groaned, her hands grasping his waist.

“Oh, you’re definitely wet for me,” he purred into her ear, his teeth tugging on her earlobe, her shiver a true turn-on.

Jackson removed his finger and slipped both hands inside her panties, kneading her ass again, thinking it was perfect. Then he slowly pulled them down, letting them drop to the floor. He captured her waist and lifted her, leaving them behind as he placed her on the edge of the bed. She looked up at him, her eyes hooded. He nudged her back onto the bed, her legs dangling from it.

Exactly where he needed her.

He knelt and placed his hands on her knees, pushing them apart. Feeling her stiffen, he glanced up. Her head had risen from the bed, a worried look on her face.

“Do you trust me?” he asked huskily.

“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes large.

“This is me loving you. Only you, Ainsley.”

He squeezed her knees, his thumb stroking her lightly as they continued to gaze at one another. Then he opened her legs wider, his fingers lightly dancing up her thighs. He placed one palm flat against her belly, and she lowered her head again. He could still feel the tension within her, though.

“I’m nervous,” she said quietly. “I think I know what you’re going to do. I’ve... no one... I haven’t done this before.”

“Then we’ll see if you like it,” he said in a non-threatening way. “If you don’t, we won’t do it again. But if you do, we’ll see what you like about it.”

“Okay,” she said, so softly he almost missed it.

Jackson traced the seam of her sex with a finger, and she whimpered. He continued to do so slowly, letting her get used to him. Then he slid a finger inside her, stroking her deeply. She mewled like a kitten. He added a second one, going deeper, holding her steady with his other hand against her belly as her hips started to rise. He knew from before that it wouldn’t take much. She had come easily when he feasted on her breasts, and it was the rare woman who did so. He figured Ainsley was a powder keg ready to explode.

He kept up the motion, caressing her, and she began moaning. Writhing beneath him. The little noises gave way to his name.

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