Tattoo Kiss x, page 23
Jack covers me with himself and pulls me up into him one more time. My thighs are aching with the desire to be touched by him, the spot between them slicker than ever as he takes his time with me.
He slides my pants down and off my legs with unhurried precision, his eyes travel down my thighs drinking in the parts of me he hasn’t seen before like it’s the first time he’s ever seen a woman on his bed.
Somehow, I feel like I’m the first.
I know I’m not, but right now, Jack is looking at me like I’m the only girl in the world. Like I’m everything that’s ever mattered or will matter again.
I’ve been touched before, but never by him.
I know he’s a luxury and somehow, right now, I feel like I’m worth it.
For the first time, I’m worth the lavish and rapt attention of a man obsessed.
Quietly slipping my pants off my ankles, Jack straightens up and looks down at me, my legs bent at the knees lying on my back, a warm flush spreads over my face as he gingerly touches my knees and smooths his hands over them to encourage them to fall apart ever so slightly.
And they do.
Oh, they fucking do.
He’s looking at me like a man starved, his Adam’s apple moving quickly and as he swallows, a low, sharp exhale comes out parting his sweet lips.
“Fuck.” Jack stands up and puts his hands to his face, clawing at his hair.
I smile softly but have no words. I almost want to ask if he’s okay, but he looks as though he’s afraid to move or break the silence in case this should be an actual daydream and not be in the flesh in front of him right now.
Jack looks back down at me before turning his back quickly and then coming back again, keeping his eyes on my face. His voice is stern as he commands. “Get up on the bed more, Eddie.”
I sit up obediently and scoot back to the pillows at the top of the bed.
Jack clears his throat and watches me hungrily. There’s a vein near his temple that is now visible and twitching at how hard he’s holding himself back. I know lust when I see it, but this is all-out desperation. He reaches down and adjusts himself subconsciously, and I try not to lower my eyes. Exhaling sharply, he kneels on the bed next to me and looks at my purple hoodie covering my top half.
“I ken that was a lot, Eddie. It’s up to ye if ye want to keep that on.”
“Yes,” I reply softly. “Please.”
My hoodie covers the five-inch-long scar on my stomach, white and shiny with healing these past two years. I’m not ready for him to see that yet. I don’t want to answer questions.
I don’t want him to know.
I feel whole.
I feel complete right here and now and I can’t bear the thought of him thinking of me as anything less than this.
Normal.
Jack yanks off my fuzzy socks and tosses them aside too. “This okay?”
“What?” I joke with more courage than I feel I have at the moment. “Fooling around with socks on is still taboo?”
“Always.” Jack chuckles. “Besides, this is serious business, ye ken. I fucking refuse to do it with yer fuzzy feet in my face.”
My stomach churns again and my ears start ringing at how long I’ve been holding my breath.
Who said anything about his face being near my feet?
Jesus.
As if in answer, Jack bends over my legs to kiss my kneecap thoughtfully, sucking in through his teeth at the sight of me bared altogether in front of him. The cool rush of the air on my skin causes goose bumps to form on my calves and Jack notices.
I shoot him a questioning look before he nods seriously to me and slips behind me, pulling me up against him, cradling my back into his broad chest. His legs are spread around mine and he’s sitting up against the headboard, pillows at his back.
I’m cocooned in his chest cavity and let out a relieved breath at his warmth. “Comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Jack breathes into my ear, hot and heavy as his hands slide under the blanket and edge up under my hoodie slightly, grabbing my bare waist and sliding me firmly against himself. “I want ye to be completely melted into me when I’m done with ye, Eddie. I intend to have ye falling into my arms, spent and happy with how much joy you feel from me.”
No one’s ever held me like this before. Then again, I’ve never been with Jack before. Maybe there is something to what he said earlier about not knowing what I like because I fucking like this.
To be honest, I’m used to sex being over by now. This. This is different.
I breathe in slowly as I feel his fingers go down and run tenderly along the backs of my bare thighs, cupping around them and pulling them slowly apart.
I let my legs fall to the sides, cradled by his own solid ones as he has them wrapped around me.
He brings his hands to my knees again and begins tracing patterns on my skin with his fingertips under the blanket. His arms are strong and weighty and hold me to him like a second skin as he explores me by touch.
“Yer skin, Eddie. It’s perfect, so smooth and bright.”
God, I’m glad I shaved now.
But part of me also realizes Jack couldn’t care less if I was wrapped in burlap with cave woman appendages.
With slow intention, his fingers make their way to the fronts of my thighs and down, ever down, until they stop just at the notch of my hips. I catch my breath as he pauses for a second. I hear him let out a soft sigh behind me as his fingers dip down along my pelvic bone.
“Is this okay?”
“Yes.”
God, yes.
The light touches are enough to make me twitch with anticipation, but he’s in no hurry to get this over with. Savoring every moment, he takes his time, his voice low and deep in my ear as he continues.
“Ye remember when I said ye were in my dreams already, Eddie?”
I nod vaguely. I’m overtaken by the feeling of his right hand slipping down over my heat and his middle finger cautiously exploring each slick fold of skin there.
“Last night, after our kiss”
He’s drawing his voice out now, low and soft, into my hair. I can feel his breathing quicken and him hardening against my tailbone as he explores with his fingers the delicate folds of my center.
“I had the worst time getting to sleep after that. Leaving ye like that. I wanted ye then so badly I thought I was losing my fucking mind. Had to come home and fuck my own hand and thought of ye the whole time. D’ye ken what I dreamed about in great detail?”
God, his tongue rolls over the r’s will be the fucking death of me.
“About how I would have taken ye.”
A soft cry escapes my lips as he spreads me open under his fingers and, with the hand he uses to strum his guitar, slowly begins lightly rubbing on my most sensitive point. I didn’t even realize my hands were clutching the bed, but I feel them now hold on for dear life as an explosion of color and sensation takes place behind my closed eyelids.
Jack keeps talking to me, soothingly, letting his voice drop to a tone only I can hear over my breathing as my heart threatens to explode.
“To grab your round ass and lift ye to the wall again. To pin ye to me, to feel ye want me to. It would have been heaven to have ye against the wall. Would ye have liked that?”
Jesus Fuck.
“There in your bright blue shirt, it would have been so easy.” Jack continues, pulling me to him closer with one hand on the bare skin of my pelvis, holding him to me, the other continuing to stroke a fire deep in my core with his movements. “So easy, to hold ye to the wall with one arm and take down my pants with the other. So easy to slide up into ye and hear ye cry out as I took ye there. To lose myself in taking ye rough and hard against the door.”
I gasp as his finger plays a circle around my opening before tentatively sliding into me.
I catch my breath and the noise makes him smile. I can hear it in his voice as it warms my neck.
“To hear yer breathing hitch and feel yer hips move with a motion all their own. Into mine. Over and over. To hear ye call my name, loud and wanting, and me tearing it from your mouth with my own.”
I hear him groan in restraint, feel his teeth on my neck as he bites firmly down on my pulse point behind my ear. His body is tight and hard behind me, thoroughly enthralled in teasing me and losing himself at the same time.
I shudder my back against his solid form, but I’m caught. Between his raging hardness and rock-solid torso and his hand holding me to him helplessly.
The sensation of being held and pinned there is almost too much to bear and I catch myself in short, sharp breaths before I lose myself completely against him.
“I wouldn’t care who heard us. Yer sounds, Eddie. Well, that’s enough to make me almost cry with wanting ye.”
I arch my back into his chest and his voice takes on a rougher quality as he continues with a whisper in my ear.
“And if everyone knew. Everyone was watching. I would still fuck ye senseless. To make them know ye’re mine, Eddie. Christ, ye’re so wet. I am absolutely loving how ready ye are for me, baby.”
He takes his hand away only to turn my head to his mouth and press his lips to mine in fervent desire as the place between my legs pulsates with jealousy over what my mouth is feeling.
“Don’t stop.” I pant.
The pictures he’s painting for me are altogether too much to bear. I realize quickly that my dirty mind was absolutely correct when I imagined what his deft hands could do to me should he want to.
I let out a small cry as his hand darts down again to the spot that’s craving his attention. He’s showing no sign of tiring as he increases his speed, rubbing the center of all my nerves in a clockwise motion, slipping in between my folds and rubbing the slick warmth of my arousal on the nub he’s focused on at the moment.
Jack slips two fingers inside me this time, curling upward at a spot that makes my legs shake, and a shuddering gasp breaks from my mouth as I press backward against him. Desperately trying to get away from the intense feeling, but also getting closer to my own release.
“Are ye going to come for me, Eddie?”
I’m surprised at how fast the answer is. “Yes.”
I bite my lip into my mouth as he speeds up his motion and presses me to him, rocking his hips forward and breathing hard in my ear.
“Fucking hell.” Jack breathes out.
One.
Two.
Three.
Long seconds later, my hands dig into the bed and I shake hard against his chest, a small moan escaping my lips as I feel my walls clench and unclench around his fingers, now wet with my own arousal.
“Come for me, baby. Don’t hold back.”
My head hits his rock-solid shoulder as I ride out what can only be described as the hardest and fastest orgasm I’ve ever had. My chest feels like exploding at the sudden release of pressure that his hands have coiled and sprung in response to his words. The pulsating waves of pleasure slowly echo outward to dissipate the knot that’s firmly tied to him somewhere deep in my center.
I unravel loudly in his arms and grip his hands to stop their movements as I shake from the unexpected power of it.
There is no such thing as air anymore. I don’t even think I’m breathing beyond the pounding rush of my heartbeat in my ears. My hearing is muffled, but I still hear him gasp behind me.
“God, Eddie. Fuck.”
Jack’s voice is barely recognizable and hardly human as his breath sputters into my hair. Clutching him to me, he rocks up into my body as I ride out the feeling. His arms tighten around me as he holds me to him, with the last of his restraint dying on his lips.
A minute or two later, I’m still floating back to myself, my head nestled in his shoulder. Jack smiles down at me and kisses my cheek as he gathers me to him even closer than before. My legs feel like lead as I slowly roll over onto his chest and stay there a second before lifting my head.
“My ears are ringing,” I drawl.
Jack chuckles, his chest rumbling underneath me.
“That good, huh?”
“The best.” I smile lazily. My eyes open suddenly. “Did you?”
Jack shakes his head. “I was close though, Christ.”
He holds his hand to his side and then…
Brings it up to his mouth to suck off his fingers.
The dark look flashing over his bright eyes is enough to haunt me to whatever hell I’ll find myself in after I’m dead and gone from the sheer magnitude of the emotions I feel for him.
Wordlessly, he presses his head to mine and I can feel the beginning of sweat breaking out there and suddenly realize it’s my sweat, too.
“Watching ye come in my arms, Eddie. Now that was possibly the most beautiful sight I’ve seen in a very long time.” He smirks as he lowers his head to exhale a deep kiss into my mouth as I moan happily. “No doubt it’ll serve me well later.”
“Gotta give you something to think about when you’re the dirty old man in the nursing home.”
“Ye’ll be there with me.” Jack closes his eyes and rests his head on the headboard as smug as a cat.
“I will?”
“Aye. Gotta have someone around to bitch at. Might as well be you, Eddie.”
“I’m flattered.” I groan, rolling my eyes as I happily snuggle into his chest, resting my warm head on the coolness of his shirt near his tattoo.
Deep down, I am glowing.
Joy. Huh?
What a concept.
I’m getting dangerously close to believing in life again, but I tell myself these are the hormones talking.
My eyelashes sweep my knuckles under my cheek where I’m laying my head on Jack’s chest. The rise and fall of his breath sweeps me away into almost-slumber.
I reach out and tentatively brush his tattoo with my fingers. It’s so small.
“Okay if I use your bathroom?”
Jack releases me from his arms and kisses me softly on the nose as I slip out of his reach.
“Door at the end of the hall.”
Mentally, I’m cursing out caffeine for being one hell of a mood killer, but I really have to go. I stumble off the bed and scramble for my pants that Jack has flung into the corner. Most likely to watch this very moment as I waddle bare-assed.
Stopping myself, I feel his eyes on me and I slow down my movements so I’m not totally Pooh-bearing it up on my walk of shame. Have some dignity, Eddie.
I do the bend and snap and look over my shoulder to see him smirking at me from the bed. Of course, in my second-long absence, he’s already on the next distraction. Right now he’s tossing one balled-up fuzzy sock from one hand to the other, juggling them in between in a jovial sort of game he has with himself over how much he can irritate me and still be endearing.
He totally threw the pants this far on purpose. I re-clothe my nether regions with as much dignity as humanly possible, raising an eyebrow at Jack’s sad puppy expression from the bed as I dress.
I half expect him to follow me out into the hall to make sure I won’t make a break for it, but he doesn’t.
He knows my weaknesses.
Caffeine and getting me to orgasm so hard I have trouble walking straight.
That’ll keep any woman captive for a little while.
He is good.
I walk proudly down the hall, my bare feet embracing the floorboards, running my hands down the walls.
Using the little half-bath at the end of the hall, I look around as anyone would in a stranger’s bathroom.
Don’t tell me you haven’t looked behind the medicine cabinet to make sure they’re not on Percocet.
Peered into the shower to see what kind of soap they use.
Jack’s bathroom is as bare as the hall. No pictures, very few decorations. It seems like the only really lived-in rooms are below and his bedroom.
Washing my hands with blue liquid hand soap, I look into the mirror and smooth bits of hair out of my eyes, taming down the mess that is definitely post-something hair if not post-sex. I’ll have to hide this from Beverly when I go home.
Brushing my hands on my pants, I dry them off and tiptoe out into the hall. The door to my right is open, and I know I shouldn’t. But I do.
I tap the door open wider with my index finger to peek inside.
It’s purple.
If Jack’s house was bare, the rest of the décor was an explosion that happened in this room.
It’s purple and glittered and there’s a bright pink chandelier I would have killed for as a child.
The white worn furniture matches the coffee table downstairs, and it hits me that the table may have really been a small desk from a bedroom set.
I’m burning with curiosity as the door makes a small squeaking noise as it swings open inwardly.
I step half into it and half into the hall.
Noncommittal to my snooping.
It’s just…
I feel like I shouldn’t be here.
It looks exactly like any little girl’s room should only…it’s far too clean.
There are Barbie’s lined up on the pink poppy coverlet over the little twin bed in the corner, waiting for their owner to come back and pick them up and—
I turn to go, but not before my hood brushes the tall dresser next to the door with the butterfly lamp on it and I hold my breath as a small picture topples off. Catching it in my hands quickly, I go to replace the small square note encased in glass. When I stop.
My mouth falls open.
The small frame doesn’t hold a picture like I first thought, but a note.
Daddy Love
Small, spidery child’s writing in a rainbow of crayon marks.
Under which is a lipstick stain. A smudge. Small and messy.
The tattoo kiss.
My hand goes immediately to my mouth as I go to replace the note on the dresser. A creak in the floorboard behind me tells me I’m not alone, just as a large hand reaches out to take the small frame from me.
If the floor could just swallow me up, that would be great. In fact, if I could die on the spot, that would be even better.
Jesus, Letti.
Jack cups the small frame in his hand. I turn and back away from him as I watch him cradle it for a moment, touching the glass before putting it back.
