Page 13 of Call It What You Want
I should be disgusted. This guy kidnapped me, for fuck sake. Stole me away from my life, because, what…he was bored, and he felt like it? I should hate him, and I do, but at this point, I’m in it…
With his thumbs, he spreads my pussylips open, then licks me from base to clit in one slow, languid motion. Oh, my God. I practically levitate, my fists gripping the comforter to keep me from going airborne.
Then he pulls my clit into his mouth, sucking the tiny bud, and I swear to God, I die a little. My heart stops. My lungs seize. It’s so intense, it’s too much, and I buck while trying to shimmy away from him.
His deep chuckle reverberates through my core as he holds my hips steady, the pinch of his fingernails adding a thread of pain that weaves through the pleasure, creating something new and even more intense.
His mouth is so hot and wet against me, and it feels so damn good, I have to bite my lip to keep a moan from spilling out. Jackson has always been so good at finding that one spot that makes me crazy, and fuck, he’s still got it.
And when he pushes his tongue inside me—oh, my God—my mind goes completely blank. The only thing that exists is Jackson’s mouth and the chaos it’s creating inside me, a hurricane of sensation. His tongue spears into me, his mouth sucking at the same time, and within seconds, I’m thrashing, heat roaring through me like I’ve been lit on fire from the inside.
He clamps down on my hips, holding me captive as he sucks, nips, licks—every drag of his mouth feels like punishment and salvation tangled into one.
My head tilts back as I clamp my eyes shut, my inner walls pulsing as an orgasm tears through me like wildfire, consuming everything until I’m left breathless and shaking. I’m not even aware I’m gripping his hair until he growls, low and deep, sending a vibration through me that pulls me even deeper into the abyss…
“That’s it, baby. Give it to me,” he moans against me, not letting up. He continues to lick and suck, soft and steady, as the intensity slowly fades, leaving me buzzing with aftershocks.
The world gradually comes back into focus, and I sink bonelessly into the sheets, my skin slick with sweat, lungs burning as I struggle to catch my breath. Every nerve ending still hums with the aftershocks.
That’s when the shame creeps in. This guy is unhinged. Dangerous. Why am I letting him eat me out like I’m a fucking Christmas buffet?
Commit to the bit, Ava. The easier you are to catch, the faster he’ll lose interest…
Wiping his mouth on my thigh, he crawls up my body. His weight crushes me into the mattress, his erection pressing hard and unmistakable through his jeans.
Right then, a fist slams into the bedroom door, making me jump. A voice filters through. “Yo, Lucas needs us in the Panic Room. Meet us down there.”
Jackson goes still, every muscle locked tight.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.
When he pulls away, relief flickers in my chest, but disappointment slams in immediately after. My mind is begging for him to leave, while my body aches for the heat and weight of him that’s suddenly absent. My God, what’s wrong with me? I’ve been here less than twenty-four hours, and I’m already losing my grip on reality.
Before leaving the bed, his mouth dips to my ear, his voice a rasp, “Next time, Doe-Eyes, you’ll beg for it.”
God help me…I already want to.
How am I going to survive the next couple of days?
CHAPTER FIVE
Jackson
The look on Ava’s face as I pull back and rise from the bed hits me like a fist to the chest. It’s that raw mix of confusion, vulnerability, and something dangerously close to longing that gets me.
And that right there? That’s why I stayed the fuck away for the last three years. Because I know what I do to her. And what’s worse, I know what she does to me.
Whenever I look at her, it unearths emotions I’ve spent years trying to bury. And I know, if I’m not careful, I’ll pull her back into the darkness with me. Because I don’t know how to love without burning everything down.
I point to the breakfast I’d ordered and left for her on the desk—orange juice, eggs, bacon, fruit, and bagels. “Eat something.” I grab her phone and slide it into my back pocket. “And don’t leave this room.”
Her mouth opens, maybe to argue or to beg, but I don’t even hear it, because I’m already gone, heading down the back staircase. The moment I hit the kitchen, voices drift up around me, low and casual. A burst of familiar laughter cuts throughthe hum. I wade through the cluster of people and see my sister sitting on the marble counter, laughing at something someone said.
For fuck’s sake.
I grab her arm and yank her off the counter. Everyone scatters.
“Didn’t I tell you not to leave the bedroom?” I say.
