Loving Jagger, page 9
part #2 of Wild Heart Series
The moonlight shines down on us, a veil of dusty silver unfurling over her. Her eyes come into focus, glittering, wild. I cup her face and search those eyes, looking for answers.
There’s a storm in her heart, churning conflicting emotions. She’s sitting on a mountain of tears while grappling with the fire he’s stirred in her.
And then I see the softness in her eyes and her love for me and my heart hurts. I register everything, powerless, knowing that a tide is turning and it’s coming toward us. It could lift us, or it could drown us, but one thing is for sure. It will sweep us off our feet, and it will certainly change a lot of things for us.
There’s a moment of silence between us as we clash stares, and breathe heavily, and then her hands slip under my top and roll it up and over my shoulders.
With one hand I grab the nape of her neck, with the other undoing my buckle. Her fingers pull my zipper down, freeing my erection, and then I crash on her, my mouth thirsty for her, my hand riding her dress up, my knee pushing between her legs.
Our mouths collide, hungry, our blood running wild, our minds completely disconnected from the surroundings.
She moans, swept away, her body melting in my arms, her skin sizzling beneath my touch. I pull her dress up and crumple it around her waist. Tugging at her straps, I free her tits. My palm sweeps over her smooth folds, my fingers tracing the wet trail between her nether lips.
She hitches her thigh up on my hip, her hand palming me between my legs, cupping my balls. Her shoulders hit the wall as I pull her open and root myself deep in her, slipping between her walls like it’s butter.
She jerks and moans, her nails branding my skin. She slides her hands down my back, and slips them inside my jeans. I break the kiss and look at her. Her eyes sparkle like the moon.
She grins a drunken smile, and that’s exactly what I crave to see.
Her hands roam over my ass, kneading, as I pump her, jolting her into the wall. She reaches around and slips her fingers between my butt cheeks, and I’m about to explode.
She starts licking my neck while working my ass, and bursts of pleasure spear through my groin.
“What is it, Violet?” I groan, and her hands grab me stronger, her lips sucking me harder.
My ass is clenching. My cock is throbbing.
“Fuck... me...” I rasp, my voice gravelly. “Tell me, baby... What is it?”
I tip her chin up, my hips rolling slower, my hardness stirring her wetness, her walls hungry, warm, ready to collapse and rejoice, and I continue fucking her slowly, keeping her there, only a hard thrust away.
“I want you...” she says, her unfocused eyes dipping to my lips.
“You have me, baby...” I murmur.
“I want to know everything about you...” she says as if she’s given it some thought, and then her eyes come back into focus, and my heart spins in my chest.
“I’m not sure you want that, baby...” I say, without thinking much.
Her eyes bore into mine, and for a moment I feel completely open, vulnerable and exposed.
“And I don’t think it’s good for you...” I mumble, caught in this stupid moment of sincerity.
Her eyes narrow with a smile.
“That’s not for you to say.”
“Fair...” I murmur, and grin.
My hand goes up inside her hair, my lips brushing hers.
“Let’s start here, then,” I say, and lock her lips, plunging my tongue into her mouth, swaying my hips, burying myself deep in her, undulating my body, then ramming into her.
She moves with me, her moans rolling out louder and louder, her grip on me painful and then her body writhes, and her eyes pull almost closed as the orgasm surges.
“I want more...” she murmurs as if she’s under hypnosis, and I hammer her with force. “It’s beyond words...” she mumbles, awe setting on her face.
She cries my name out, her body shaken by the blur of thrusts that make her jerk and spasm, and scream, the sight of her, her sounds, raising the hair on the back of my neck.
My chest tightens, and my body hardens as a low growl shakes its way out of my throat, the orgasm rippling through me, hard and fast, rattling her, making her come again.
Panting, we stare at each other, sweaty, both still shaking.
My hand slips to her face.
She turns it over and presses her lips on my palm, planting a kiss of love.
VIOLET
Tingles rush down my body, my swollen sex still clenching. His hand goes between my legs as he leaves my body and cuffs his shaft with the other.
His knuckles feel cold against my folds. He flips his hand and runs his fingers over my entrance, wiping a mix of my arousal and his release.
I cuff his wrist and push his hand against my cleft. His eyes flick up to mine, the slow smile curving his lips sending a jolt of electricity through me, making my inside flutter again.
My eyes dip.
He’s getting hard as if nothing happened. Catching the direction of my gaze he flashes a naughty smile.
“We need to go back...” he says, and yet he doesn’t move away.
His eyes drop to my lips, his hand stroking me between my thighs, his fist pumping his cock.
“We’ll go back, just...” I murmur, dazed, my eyes centering on his mouth, my eyes dropping briefly to his groin.
He narrows his eyes, his lips tilting into a carnal smile.
Full and hard, he’s daring me...
Slowly, my back slides down the wall, my knees meeting the ground. His cock springs out of his hand, hard and glistening and coated, the scent of sex, his, and mine, entering my nostrils, sending swarming tingles on my skin.
Cupping his balls with one hand, I wrap my fingers around his girth, and run my tongue along his length, licking every drop of seed and my arousal, the taste and smell of us, firing me up.
He watches me with fever eyes, his hands braced against the wall, his legs open for me. I lick him clean before he pushes slowly between my lips. Perfect, long and thick, wet and hard, and throbbing.
Grunting, he rocks his hips, the smooth hardness lodging in the back of my throat several times before I cough, and he retreats.
“I’m sorry,” he says, concern flashing in his eyes.
I plant my hands on him and stop him, and then I flick my eyes to him.
“Don’t pull back...” I murmur, and a ravenous hunger floods his eyes.
I draw him back in, and his hands go into my hair.
He slides it in and out, groaning, grinding against my mouth. I bring my hand between his legs and work his balls before I slide it up and cup and knead his butt.
He moves faster and faster, his beautiful body rocking with the surge, the tension making him iron hard just before the stream of cum shoots in my mouth.
Pleasure pours into my body.
“Fuck, fuck...” he growls as I’m still stroking him.
I swallow the last drop and lick my lips, and then he pulls me up to my feet, and locks my mouth, both moaning and groaning, breathing into each other, completely lost.
A few minutes tick by before we come to our senses.
He rolls my dress down, slides the straps on my shoulders, and closes his jeans before he pulls his top on. Hard and painful, my nipples push against the dress.
“Hey...”
He turns to me, and cups my face and then he breathes in me.
“I’ll take care of you... Okay? I have to finish here...” he says, and runs his fingers through my hair, disentangling damp locks.
He gives me a quick once over, making sure my dress covers my rear, takes my hand and walks me back. His eyes are filled with fire, his skin still flushed.
As we near the dance floor, a silhouette pushes off a wall and walks out of a shadow. Braxton swaggers to us, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his eyes trained on Jagger.
Some invisible message flows between them, and for a moment I feel as if what happened behind that stall was hardly a secret.
The looks they trade and the soft smile that curves Braxton’s lips make my temperature spike. He pulls his hands out of his pockets and runs his fingers over his lips, his eyes shifting from Jagger to me, his gaze so intense I feel it in the center of my body.
I stagger for a moment, and Jagger’s arm snakes around my waist.
His body churns heat just like mine.
Braxton erases the distance between us and stops in front of me. One hand clasps Jagger’s shoulder while the other comes to my face.
A burning sensation flows through me, the warmth of his skin rolling over me, his scent entering my lungs.
His eyes dart between us and then shift to my lips, glinting, lustful. His smile draws my gaze to his mouth too before I flick my eyes up and catch him watching me, his gaze threading through mine, so easily.
The promise in his eyes makes me shudder.
“Just go, man,” he says, swiftly moving his eyes to Jagger.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m damn sure...”
“Thank you for coming,” he says, leaning to me.
His hand slides to my neck, his thumb trailing my jawline, his breath rolling on my lips. I clutch Jagger’s arm, and I almost lose my breath as Braxton’s lips come close to mine before he steers them smoothly and softly places a kiss on my cheek.
“Fuck him good, Violet. He’s a ball of jitters,” he says loud enough for Jagger to hear.
His breath fans over my lips as his hand glides across my bare shoulder, making me feel naked for a moment.
“Enough, Braxton. You’ve had enough of her for one night,” Jagger says without a shred of anger or jealousy in his voice.
“Thanks, man,” Braxton says, serious.
He straightens and heads to the house as Jagger and I walk away.
The road sprawls ahead of us, empty, drenched in celestial light. The night embraces us, warm and mysterious, like the last few hours.
A stars-embroidered sky stretches above. Colorful paper lanterns spread a candy like glow over the tucked in gardens, most homes quiet and sleepy.
A calm breeze blows through my hair, riding my dress up, caressing my skin.
He looks at me from time to time, his eyes as bright as the silent moon.
Smiling, I look away.
A mysterious power courses through me, wild, unstoppable. Perhaps, illogical. It frightens me as much as it excites me, and yet it makes me feel so alive...
I lean back into my seat and close my eyes. I’ve never felt so free and happy and crushed and torn apart at the same time. I’ve never had such an intimate understanding of life, grasping its simplest, rawest, unsophisticated essence.
A veil lifts off my eyes, the walls imprisoning me ready to collapse. Layer upon layer of my old self peels off me as I shed off my fears, and push the old memories away.
In the end, there’s nothing more than this.
A ride on an empty road, a thrilling experience, a journey with the man I love for as long as it lasts because nothing lasts. Of all people, he was right. There’s no permanence. There’s only chance. And in the end, there’s really nothing. The end is the end, whether I waste my chance or not, whether I fear or not. Whether I live or not.
I got lost for so many years, and now, that I’m free, and bleeding, I don’t want to go back... Life is better than death, any day.
Tears trickle down my cheeks.
Silent, warm, unstoppable tears. Happy tears.
His fingers come to my face, brushing them away, his voice calling me softly.
“Violet...?”
I grab his hand and kiss it, tenderly, and lovingly.
“Why are you crying, baby?”
I sense the fear in his voice. The fear of things coming to an abrupt end, of people interfering, of everything merging to that blind spot, the black hole, the devious place of the Universe where light is swallowed by darkness and paths tear apart, and hearts are crushed, falling under the sword of the common, everyday, banal evil.
He always knew there’s a narrow line we had to walk on, and he feared it all the time, yet he hoped that I could see it, and be willing to walk with him.
He makes a left turn and slowly pulls in front of the house.
“You okay?”
“Yes, I am...”
He jumps out of the car, comes to my side, and helps me out.
We enter the house and walk into the bedroom.
“What happened, Violet? Why were you late?”
His eyes search mine, soaked with concern. I light up a few candles and place them on the window sills, and then I take his hand and walk him to the bed. He sits, his head propped against the headboard, his eyes rooted on me. My dress and sandals hit the floor first.
A soft grin brightens his eyes.
Naked, I saddle him. I curl my fingers inside the hemline of his T-shirt and pull it up. In one swift motion, he grabs the back and slides it off him. My hands go to his buckle, and he lifts his hips. I roll the jeans off him and toss them on the floor.
I go back and sit astride his lap.
“Are you going to tell me?” he asks softly, sliding his fingers in my hair and pulling it to the side, brushing it off my face.
“I can’t talk about them right now...”
“Them...?”
“My family.”
“Is that why you were late?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you still crying?”
“It’s the...”
My voice breaks, filled with sadness and anger.
“Because it hurts,” I say.
He wraps his arm around me and brings me next to him. Then he rolls to his side and drapes his arms around me, our heads sinking into the pillow.
“They know about me...” he murmurs.
“Yes... My sister... Brad told her,” I say, crying quietly.
“Are you surprised?”
“No.”
“What did you tell her?”
“To fuck off. Him, too.”
My chest starts rocking with sobs.
“Shh.”
His fingers thread through my hair, stroking me gently.
“I wasn’t surprised, but I never thought they’d react the way they did,” I say, wiping away tears.
“You know it’s only the beginning,” he mutters.
“I know.”
“They said bad things about me?”
“Yes, they did, and that’s what hurt me the most. They know nothing about you.”
A soft, sad chuckle rolls off his lips.
“It doesn’t matter, Violet. Whatever you say, it makes no difference to them. They’ve already made up their mind, and there’s nothing you can do. It will go away, baby. It will go away.”
His lips press on mine, warm and tender.
“You have power Violet. Sometimes you may not see it or may not know how to use it, but it’s always there. That’s why they want to pull you back...”
I take him in, studying his soft eyes, and beautiful features, the face of a mature and a young man wrapped into one.
My tears dry up.
“What happened tonight, Violet?” he asks, his eyes, sparkling with a secret smile.
A gush of blood pools in my face, giving me away. His eyes narrow with an affectionate smile, his fingers brushing my lips.
He’s calm, relaxed, and it’s confusing in a way.
“Nothing.”
His index presses on my lips.
“I know what happened... I just want to hear how you felt about it,” he says, his lips curving into a lustful smile.
“I... um... nothing... I didn’t...” I stammer through words.
“It turned you on...”
Heat swirls inside me, my pulse a riot.
“I didn’t want to...” I say.
“That’s not what I asked,” he mutters.
His hand slides down my back, follows the line of my thigh, lifts it up and hooks it over his hip, his erection pressing hot between my legs.
“Jagger...” I call him softly, my hands latched on him.
“It turns you on, even if we only talk about it... Doesn’t it?” he asks with a low, quiet voice.
“Yes, it does...” I confess.
“You like him?” he murmurs in my ear, and my inside turns into fluid heat.
“I love you, Jagger... I really do.”
He smiles and places a light kiss on my lips.
“I know you do, but that’s not what I asked you...” he says softly.
“I don’t know how to answer,” I say, and it’s the truth.
I can’t even explain it to myself.
“You’re attracted to him...” he offers to help, his fingers rolling down my body, his erection grinding against my clit.
“I don’t know...” I say, not sounding very convincing.
He lets out a soft chuckle.
“Yes, you are.”
“I don’t want to like him. I can stay away from him if that’s what you want,” I say, nervous.
His lips come to mine again, his tongue sweeping mine, and then plunging deep into my mouth. A groan fills my throat as he moves his body against mine.
He breaks the kiss, and leaves me gasping.
“That’s not what I want,” he murmurs, with a deep, sultry voice, as he sets the tip of his erection at my entrance.
“I like the way he makes you feel, Violet...” he says.
His words sink into me, their meaning still baffling me.
“You’re not mad then...” I say, disconcerted.
He lets out a small laugh.
“Do I look fucking mad?”
He slowly enters me, and I smile.
“No... It looks like you’re really hard... ” I say, pointing at the obvious.
“I’ve been hard since you danced with that motherfucker,” he says, grinning.
“He’s your best friend, and it was his birthday party,” I mutter against his lips.
“And that’s a reason to get him hard?” he asks jokingly.
“I didn’t get him... Never mind,” I say, rushed, and tear away from his lips.
He cups the back of my neck, and keeps me still, demanding my eyes on his.
“I’m not joking,” he says, his smile fading away, an unexplained sexual tension flowing between us.
