Page 67 of Ramshackle
“Jack, I’m sorry, but—”
He kisses me before I can finish.
His kiss is demanding, revealing more about his current temperament than the cool demeanor he portrays on the outside. I’m forced to bend to his will as he directs the kiss with a mixture of passion and fury. I don’t try to fight him. It’s a glimpse into Jack’s mind that no one else sees, and as the cause of the anger and pain there, I know I should bear it all.
I sink my fingers into his longer locks at the top of his head, sliding them between my fingers and then latching on tight. Jack makes a noise in the back of his throat in response, and my core throbs. Fuck, it’s a heady feeling to be able to make him react. To know that I’m the only one who can draw this side of him out.
He’s mine.
My monster. My shadow in the night.
He’s proven to me the lengths he’s willing to go. And what have I ever done for him? How have I earned that loyalty? Or his devotion?
I push him back, and he lets me, so our lips smack apart. “Jack,” I exhale in a rush. “I’m sorry. Let me try and make it up to you.” He’s still leaning over me, his hands braced against the wall on either side as he catches his breath. I start working on his pants, getting them undone before he circles my wrist to stop me.
“That’s not what I meant—”
“I know. I want this.” The very idea of Jackson, this untouchable god of death, falling apart for me makes my mouth water, and I wonder why I hadn’t done this sooner.
I know the reason…I thought Gordon had ruined this for me a long time ago. I’d taken control over my body and sex a long time ago, but I’d never pushed through this act. I never wanted to do it again after my past.
But now, it’s different. I want to do this.
Jackson’s cold, hard eyes search mine.
I sink to my knees at his nod, but instead of the hard floor of the elevator, they’re greeted by a cushion of air. Jack pulls weapons from his pants, tossing them behind us in a symphony of clinks and clangs that I’d probably laugh at if the mood was different. Instead, our eyes are locked on each other, and the world grows quiet.
There is nothing and no one outside of us in this moment.
Once he’s done, I drag his pants and boxers down. His cock springs free before me, and I swallow at the sight of it. I line my face up with it, then pause and crane my neck back to look at him.
Jack’s watching me as he always does.
Waiting. Reading my every move and expression as if my body can be interpreted in a language made just for him.
Nerves jitter beneath my skin. I’m sure he can sense how important this is to me. I’ve never willingly taken this step with another before.
But he’s not Aiden. Even if he sees something, he won’t push me for answers. And that certainty is what allows me to continue before I can psyche myself out of it.
I wrap my hand around the base of him and poise my lips at his crown. Jackson gently strokes my hair behind my ear, sending a rush of warmth through me. His touch is so real andcomforting; it’s like he lights me up from the inside until I’m glowing from his affection, and it makes me stronger. Braver.
My tongue flicks out before I can overthink anything. I lick from base to tip along the underside of his shaft. Jackson’s fist pounds against the wall. The heated intensity of his dark blue eyes while staring at me gives me another thrill.
I open my mouth and take him inside. My tongue dances around him, making sure his length is good and wet before my lips slide further down.
Jackson groans long and low. My core aches at the sound, but I consciously ignore it. This is about him right now, and I’m going to enjoy every second of trying to make him fall apart like he does to me.
His sound of pleasure is all the encouragement I need to continue.
I take my time with him, moving forward and back in measured strokes as my tongue teases him in slow circles. I’m not here to rush this. I want to learn every inch of him. Test every spot, every pressure, every movement that pulls a reaction from him that even he can’t contain.
Jack’s hand curls into my hair, wrapping it around his fist.
My mouth falters, but when he doesn’t try to take control, my confidence returns, and I continue.
He’s breathing heavily above me, and I can feel the quiver of his muscles as he holds himself back.
I pick up my pace, gripping him tighter at the base as my head bobs, and I hum my own excitement.
