Beholden (The Belonging Duet, #2)(39)

And he’s back.

The doors open and he turns, leaving me in a puddle on the floor. I don’t know what I look forward to … the punishment or the love.

“You coming?” Jackson calls over his shoulder.

Oh, I hope so.

I smile and when I turn to close the door, I feel his heat against my back. “Games are over,” Jackson says against my neck as his mouth finds purchase against my shoulder. His mouth moves slowly as he rains kisses against my exposed back.

Sensually, he moves the straps from one side down, giving him the access he wants, and my hands press against the door. “Stay like this,” Jackson commands when I try to turn.

“I want to feel you,” I reply in a whisper. It feels so good being cocooned by his warmth. His arms give me safety like they always do. With him, I’m stronger—we’re stronger.

Jackson grips my wrist holding it above my head and his other hand wraps my arm around his neck giving him control. I could easily break from his hold. The hand that holds me is his bad arm and I know he doesn’t have much strength, but I know he needs this. The feeling of some kind of power when his life has been anything but in control. “I’m not asking. Stay put.” His voice is steel wrapped in velvet.

His hands lower to my hips and his hand snakes up my shirt as he pulls it up over my head.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I reply over my shoulder.

He kisses his way from my shoulder to my neck. Moving slowly until he reaches my mouth. Jackson’s hand grips my head and he pulls me into him. I turn as much as possible into the kiss. My brain ceases to exist as I spin and clutch myself to him and he winces.

“I’m sorry,” I say as he grips his leg that’s resting on the chair. “I just—”

“Shut up and kiss me,” he says as he grabs me and slams his mouth on mine.

And I do. I kiss him relentlessly. Pouring myself into him and taking all he gives me. When our mouths collide, everything else fades away.

I feel his hands twine up my back as he unhooks my bra and my breasts fall free. His hands cup me and gently massage them while rolling my nipples in his fingers before pulling on them. I gasp as pleasure fills my body and I struggle to keep upright.

Jackson grips my hand and pulls me along while maneuvering himself through the apartment into his bedroom. “As much as I’d love to f*ck you against the wall again,” he smiles while tugging me to him, “I don’t think I’m strong enough for it yet. So get on the bed.”

I grin while unbuttoning my shorts and let them fall to the ground exposing myself to him. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me,” I say as I hook my fingers in my purple thong and slowly slide it down. “Won’t you?” I watch his pupils dilate and his eyes rake my body.

“Fuck yeah I will. Now, stop talking.”

When he’s like this I feel incredible. Every part of me lights up and I come to life. He elicits this power and raw sensuality from me. I feel bold, beautiful, and more than anything—enough. There’s never a time I feel as though I’m lacking with him.

“Tonight, nothing else exists but us,” Jackson says as he takes his shirt off.

Now it’s my time to stare. Even with his scars, he’s perfect. If anything, they make me want him more. Jackson wears his wounds and lives. It reminds me of all that he is and how I wouldn’t change a thing. Does it scare me that he could return overseas? Of course. To know the man I love could go and possibly not return scares me more than I care to admit. But when I spoke to Natalie last week, she said something that spoke to my soul. She said, “Even if I could go back and tell Aaron not to go, I wouldn’t. This is who he was. He was a soldier, a fighter, a hero, and he needed this. It fed his world. The fact that someone else didn’t die and he had to bear that cross—it’s what he would’ve wanted.”

Jackson’s deep voice breaks my thoughts, “Catherine, stay with me. Only me.” He links our fingers and pulls me to the bed.

I climb up and settle on my side while he gets situated so he’s facing me. His fingers glide up and down my ribs as we gaze at each other.

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

“About us, about how I wasn’t sure I’d ever have you back again.” Jackson’s voice grows shaky at the end and I close my eyes.

“I think somehow we’d have found a way. But promise me you’ll never walk away like that again.”

“You don’t ever have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere,” he says as our lips touch. Our tongues meet and my hands roam his glorious body.

My fingers trace the ridges on his arms then around to his back as we explore each other slowly and completely. There’s no rushing. We savor each other as if this is our last time—or first.

The feel of his hands on my stomach causes the moisture to pool as I envision him going lower. “Jackson,” I moan as his hand sinks lower and he rubs small circles on my clit.

I grip his cock in my hand and begin to stroke him, feeling him grow against my touch. “I want to feel your mouth wrapped around my dick,” Jackson says against my neck as he thrusts a finger into my *.

The sound of my groan reverberates through the room as I imagine taking him. Giving him pleasure while he’s merciless to my touch. Knowing I have the physical ability to do just that, I move and feel his loss inside, but I grow even wetter preparing for what I’m about to do. “You asked for it.” I smile when he quirks his eyebrow and leans on his back.