Mr. CEO(90)
Angry, I grab my bottle, get up, and shove it into my dresser, out of sight. I'm going to handle this the old-fashioned way, the same way that the old masters advised. Purity is something that cannot be attained except by piling effort upon effort.
Fine. Effort has brought me success. Effort has brought me the ability to bring down Peter DeLaCoeur if I can stay the course. Effort has allowed me to hone myself into the perfect instrument of my vengeance. I can beat this too, dammit.
I go over to my meditation corner, lighting the candle there. It's a new one, a gift from Darcy after her most recent visit, with a fresh ocean scent and supposedly a guaranteed twelve hour burn time. Instead of meditating, however, I stretch out, cradling my head in my arms as I let myself drift, searching for something I can hold onto to pull myself out of the depression.
What comes to mind startles me, and I sit up. Jackson? What the hell? He's a damn playboy, despite whatever he may have said when he visited. Yeah, it was noble, yeah he may have risked the wrath of his father... but he's still wrapped up in being a douchebag.
I lie back down, letting my mind drift again, but it keeps circling back, refusing to let go of Jackson. He can't be all bad, after all. If he wasn't lying about his physique being all natural...
“It's all natural,” Jackson teases me, stretching out beside me. “After all, steroids cause shrunken balls. Did they look shrunken to you?” He's got a point. I remember what his cock looked and felt like in the limo, he's certainly not lacking in the size department with either the twig or the berries.
“I guess I owe you some credit for that,” I say, reaching out and touching his arm. He's wearing a white dress shirt and charcoal gray slacks, although since we're lying down he's taken off his shoes. “So why'd you put so much effort into lifting?”
“To escape my sadness,” he whispers, reaching out and brushing my cheek. “When you left... you left a hole inside me. That, combined with the rest, I had to pour it out somewhere.”
“You... you were on my mind, too,” I admit, laying my hand on his side. “I really thought you were special, and that someday you were going to ask me out on a date, not just over to build models or study or play video games.”
“I would have,” Jackson says, easing closer. We're close, and I can feel the warmth and magnetism of his body so close, my heart beating faster in my chest. I'm not a virgin since I had to practice my seduction and erotic skills on someone, but I've never actually made love before. My heart has never been opened to anyone... but Jackson. And even then, that was a whole different me. “I was going to, and I wanted to kiss you, too. Remember that last time we played in the pool?”
I chuckle, nodding. “You kept staring at my butt. I thought I was getting a wedgie or something.”
Jackson shakes his head, his hand stroking down my back to rest on my hip, just on the upper curve of my butt. “Not quite.”
I reach my own hand down, fully cupping his ass.
Jackson leans forward, and we kiss, not like in the limo where I was giving him seductive kisses that never touched his lips but real, tender, and heartfelt ones. His lips caress mine, our tongues reaching out, probing each other, as I taste the wonderful, sexy man in front of me.
I moan when his hand comes down and grabs my ass, his strong hand kneading the flesh and muscle. I've always favored my ass over the rest of my body, and Jackson somehow knows, pulling me on top of him and grabbing with both hands as I laugh. “Mmm... you're more aggressive than I thought you'd be after I nearly broke your arm.”
“I like to live dangerously,” he teases. “Or at least, you inspire me to.”
We kiss and grind against each other, Jackson slipping his hands inside the waistband of my pants and grabbing the naked skin underneath. I'm hot, so hot I can't believe it, it's never felt this good before. Even when Carla taught me the Touches, it was never with this feeling inside my chest, never this dam that threatens to explode and consume me with what's held behind it.
I sit up, groaning when my hips straddle Jackson's and I feel his cock pushing up at his pants, my * aching for it to fill me. Still, I reach down and begin unbuttoning his shirt, easing the cloth to the side with each button, exposing his perfect chest and stomach. Every muscle is defined, his skin slightly tanned and hairless, not at all like my pale skin that barely sees the light of day most of the time. His nearly white hair and blue eyes gleam in the light of the candle, and as my hand goes over his heart, he lets go of my hips to cover his hand. We don't say anything, just look at each other. There's no need for words, not right now.
I finish unbuttoning his shirt and Jackson sits up, shrugging out of it before wrapping his arms around me in an embrace, the passion creeping out. We're hungry, devouring each other, pushing clumsily at the pants keeping us from what we need. Somehow we roll as we strip, until I'm underneath Jackson, his cock probing at the entrance to my *, his eyes sparkling as he looks into my eyes. “How do you feel about me?”
“I loved you then,” I tell Jackson, and he pauses, tears in his eyes.
“I love you now,” he replies, pushing in. He's perfect, filling me the way that no partner has ever done before. He slides in and out, my body lighting up, his cock giving me sensations I've never felt before. He's just on the edge of being rough, a little but not too much, driving his cock into me over and over, his mouth kissing me hard, almost bruising. I claw at his back as pleasure explodes over and over in my body, battering at the walls around my heart, electricity tingling along every inch of my skin. Jackson's powerful but tender, rough but gentle, and I'm washed away, giving in to him and submitting to my every desire.