You're Perfect

Jackson didn't move for a while. He stayed kneeling on the couch, knees on both sides of my thighs. His eyes were fixed on me, grey like the beginning of a storm, and so fucking intense. 

Finally, he stood up, taking a step back from me. 

I heard the metallic sound of his belt unbuckling, but I couldn't look away from his eyes. They held me captive, and I will never say it out loud to him, but I was captivated, more drawn than ever. 

His hands kept moving, undressing him, and he took his time, never rushing. Finally, he stood still. 

“Look, Siri,” he rasped, his voice the sexiest deep growl I have ever heard in my fucked up life. “Look at all of me.”

I was breathing heavily, my core throbbing with need. I finally forced my eyes away from his and down his naked body. I drank in his bare chest again because I couldn't get enough of it. And then my eyes went lower to that sharp V-shape. 

And lower. 

My breath hitched in my throat, and I rubbed my thighs together, gripping the edge of the couch until my knuckles turned white. My lips were parted as I panted, my eyes fixed on his dick. His very much beautiful, terrifying dick. 

He was long, slightly curved at the end. And thick. My mouth watered as I drank in the thickness of him. Will… will he even fit? His fat, red crown looked angry, like it was impatient to rearrange my insides. Precum dripped out of his slit. And it has to be the most beautiful dick I have ever seen–not like I’ve seen a lot.

I was rubbing my thighs together harder now, trying to quench that fire that has been lit in my core. 

“Jackson…” I moaned softly as I dragged my eyes back to his. I didn't know why I called his name like that, only that I had to.

“Your turn,” he breathed, his eyes filled with intense lust that burned through me. “Let me see you.”

My face burned hotter than it already was, and I looked away from him, crossing my arms on my chest on instinct. “M-maybe we should just–”

“Siri.” The way he growled out my name. The lack of softness in it, and zero trace of the Jackson I knew, made my gaze snap back to his. He didn't look angry, just… hungry. “Let me see you.”

Nothing about that tone was a request. And the command in his voice made my hands drop before I knew it. My hands moved down to my pants with my eyes still on his. Slowly, I dragged it down, lifting my hips. His eyes dropped, following the movement. I kicked my pants off, and then slowly, hesitantly, took off my underwear. 

His eyes stayed on me; they didn't waver. When I was completely naked and bare under his gaze, his expression grew even more intense–which I didn't think was possible–but under all that intensity was an emotion that made my eyes burn: adoration. 

He looked at my body like it was something worth looking at. He looked at me like his whole world had narrowed down to just… me. It was… it was too much.

I tried to cover myself, to hide like I knew how, but Jackson shot forward faster than I could blink and caught both my hands. His grip was firm, but his lips, when he raised my hands to them and pressed a kiss to them, were so damn soft. 

“Don’t hide from me,” he whispered, none of that command there again. “Don’t ever hide from me.”

I shook my head as annoying tears pricked my eyes. “All I've ever done is hide, Jackson. That is all I know how to do.”

He placed another kiss on my hands, and the first tear dropped. I wanted to scream. I wanted to melt. 

“I will teach you why you don't need to hide anymore.”

Slowly, he leaned down, his eyes still on mine, and kissed the trail the tear had left. He went low, his lips on mine. The kiss was soft, tender. Careful… 

When he let go of my hands, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him harder against me. Why does he have to be this way? We were just supposed to fuck, for Christ’s sake! We didn't… we didn't need all these emotions!

He broke the kiss, his eyes back on mine like he couldn't afford to look away. I felt the same way, sexy English man. 

He lowered himself, leaving hot, soft kisses on every bare skin he could find. When he got to my breasts, he placed soft kisses on top of them, directly on where I had stretch marks. My body burned hotter than it should. Hotter than I gave it permission to. 

He didn't move away from my breasts. He kept kissing them before he suddenly took one nipple into his mouth. I gasped sharply, grabbing his hair as a jolt went through my body. He curled his tongue around my nipple while his fingers played with the other one. 

The sounds he made while sucking my nipple were wrong, erotic, driving me crazy and making me crave him even more. He shouldn't be this perfect. Someone this perfect shouldn't want someone like me. What if the past was repeating itself, and I was giving it–

“No,” he growled suddenly, releasing my nipple with a soft pop. I blinked at him. “Your attention on me, Siri. All of it. You’re not permitted to think of anything else but me.”

“You’re so bossy when you finally get what you want,” I grumbled even as my walls clenched around nothing.

He smirked in a way that made me want to swallow him. 

“And you love it.”

I rolled my eyes. I did, but I will never tell him that. He lowered his head back to my breasts, giving them one final kiss before moving low. He kissed my stomach, a groan vibrating in his chest.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he kept kissing my stomach. 

Another curse, another kiss. More curses, and more kisses. On the tenth kiss, he was panting. And I never thought a man panting could make me drip harder. 

He raised his eyes back to mine, and in that dark gaze, he looked like he was being tortured. 

“You’re perfect, Siri.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Then why say it like it's painful?”

“Because it fucking is.”