Page 42 of Second Chance Vacation

I glare up at him before smacking his hand away.

“Fine—I’ll do it myself,” I huff, reaching to touch myself before he blocks me.

His hand wraps around my wrist, pulling both of my hands above my head. His mouth hovers just above my mouth, a whisper of a distance.

“C’mon Viv, just ask for what you want. I promise I’m feeling generous. Just ask nicely.”

My frustration at his insistence is nothing when compared to my achingly desperate need for him to touch me,reallytouch me.

“Jackson,” I moan as his finger begins barely tracing my clit once more, this time barely skating over my swollen slit, but still not enough pressure to do anything.

“Hm?”

He stands back up, releasing my hands but gazing down at where his hand touches my scorching flesh, admiring his handiwork.

“Please. Fuck—please make me come. I’m begging you.” As my words barely leave my lips, his middle finger pushes inside me, and he finally increases pressure on my clit. My back arches against the table, a guttural moan leaving me panting. He continues to pump his finger in and out of me before he pushes a second inside me, leaving me feeling more full than before.

“See, baby? All you had to do was ask.” He leans over me, his lips grazing the shell of my ear, but he doesn’t relent on his fucking me with his hand. “I’d give you anything you want and more. All you have to do is ask. Now be a good girl and come for me.”

His movements become frantic, filling me and touching my bundle of nerves with such precision that I feel myself begin to contract around his fingers in record time. My entire body tightens, riding out the ecstasy brought on by the orgasm. When I finally come down from the high, he wraps his hand around the back of my neck, bringing me back to a sitting position. Jackson’s lips meet mine, much more gently than before.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he whispers against my lips.

We are in our room within seconds.

The heady feeling from before left me with a new ache building between my thighs. Jackson stands behind me as he pulls the strings holding my dress up loose, leaving a pile of satin balled at my feet. Without a second of hesitation, his hands are cupping my breasts from behind, rubbing my nipples between his fingers.

“God. Your tits are incredible.” His words roll over the shell of my ear. My head falls back against his shoulder, giving him full access for exploration.

I am quickly falling back on the bed. The familiar smell of his cologne on the sheets assaulting my senses. The warmth of bergamot and cedar is nearly seared into my brain. It should make me more alert, but instead, it causes me to fall even further into a daze. We’ve spent every night of this trip sleeping next to each other in this bed, sleeping with a wall of pillows creating distance between us.

Oh, if Gen a week and a half ago could see us now.

The sound of a condom wrapper ripping fills the room, and within seconds, the head of Jackson’s cock presses against my entrance. With how wet I am, even the slightest movement could push him past my entrance. He hovers there for a second as his eyes meet mine, awaiting my approval. I nod slightly, giving the go-ahead.

No time is wasted.

The moment I nod yes, he sinks into me with one movement, burying himself to the hilt. I wince slightly, taking a few seconds to adjust to his size.

“Sorry,” he says in a strangled voice. “You’re so fucking wet.”

“It’s okay.” I smile, wiggling in place. So full I repeatedly adjust, trying to quell the burning of being stretched so extensively. He moves slightly, eliciting a moan from my lips as the pain slips away to pleasure.

We both inhale deeply as he thrusts into me again, withdrawing a little bit more with every movement until he is out, then buried entirely with every thrust. My body surprisingly doesn’t take very long to adjust to the muscle memory of him inside me. I have only ever been with one other person besides him, so my body welcomes him like an old friend.

His heart thunders in unison with my own as a loud moan escapes my lips. I lock my ankles behind his back, pulling him as deep as he can go.

“Fuck, Viv,” he chokes out as he fuses his lips to my own, burying his own moan. He’s frantic, lost in the pleasure with every movement, and I know he is getting close. As he thrusts into me, Jackson reaches between us, stroking my clit with his finger, goading my body closer to its own release. With every stroke, my pussy clenches around his shaft. Every touch feels like heaven. I’m close.

I’m so close.

My body tenses, falling over the edge more intensely than before as his name leaves my lips. I forget how much more intense an orgasm can be when filled so thoroughly. My walls tighten around him, causing him to quicken his pace, chasing his own release. His cock clenches inside of me as he fills the condom, my body acutely aware of each twitch of aftershock.

He stays buried inside me for a moment, looking down at me. His mind appears to be racing, and I internally beg him not to go there. Not now. This was perfect, and if he opens his mouth, talking about what this means, I will crack.

“Viv, I—” he says, barely getting a word out before I fuse my lips to his, stealing whatever he was about to say. We lay there, him over me, lazily devouring one another. After minutes pass, Jackson loses his thought.

Thank God.

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