Jackson growls again and slaps his hand back over my mouth. This time, my words pushed him over the edge. He grabs my dress and hauls it up over my waist and pulls down my underwear in one quick go. I hear a clank of a belt loosening behind me, and in the next second the pressure of Jackson’s rock-hard cock entering me. No foreplay, no warning, just a hard shove of his cock inside my soaking channel. Nothing could have prepared me for the sensation of Jackson fucking me. Never in a million years did I think it would happen.
He slides his hand from my mouth down to my neck, increasing pressure there. My eyes go wide. I can tell from the squeeze around my neck that he’s angry. So, very angry. I try to lift my head up to say something to him, but he uses his hand that’s not around my neck, places it behind my head, and pushes my head down away from him.
Like he can’t bear the thought of having intercourse with me. With me.
That’s fine, because I can barely stand to think that I’m currently having sex with Logan’s best friend.
I push all those thoughts out of my mind as my head is shoved forward and I’m rammed into from behind. It feels so good, to forget my shit life for just one moment. To let myself be taken advantage of the way I want it to happen. To finally—for just one moment—feel like I’m in charge of my life.
Behind me, Jackson doesn’t relent as he chases his own release. From the emotions in the room, it seems like he is also finally letting go. Alone we suffered in torment, but together we’re free.
At least for a moment.
The bathroom starts to get sticky warm, almost uncomfortable from our heavy breathing and slapping skin.
I let out a strangled moan, like my mind doesn’t want to be feeling the pleasure but my body isn’t giving it any other choice.
Jackson knows what the hell he’s doing.
All too soon, I feel the tingling in my toes. I can feel the electricity rise through my legs and take over my entire body. I let out a cry in pain or pleasure, I’m not sure. The need to keep this ecstasy going is addicting, but my guilty conscious knows I’m going to pay for it later.
I ride on my high for many minutes, listening as Jackson finds his own release behind me a second later. He only lets out a small grunt, almost like he swallows down his pleasure and doesn’t fully give into it.
Once his breathing slows, he releases my neck and steps away from me. I keep my head bowed and pushed into the wall, feeling confused, and scared, and guilty. But inside small part of me, I feel good, and turned on, and free. I know these feelings are only going to last seconds, but these are seconds that I'm going to bask in until the very last moment.
I hear silence behind me, louder than it’s ever been before. When enough seconds have past to the point where I can't have my head digging into a wall any longer, I get up, brace myself, and turn around to face Jackson.
He stands there, silent as always with a blank look on his face. I'm still hot all over. The guilt I thought would immediately press on my conscious is still only flitting in the background. Good, I hope she stays there.
Jackson and I stare at each other for seconds, maybe even minutes. I'm not sure what he's thinking, because his face is always closed off to the world.
What I'm thinking is, I don't want this feeling of weightlessness to end. I feel good right now, and I’m worried what I'll feel like once my sanity collides with reality.
One more glance at Jackson and he whips his hand out, gripping my wrist and pulling me the five steps into his room. He kicks the door shut with his foot, grabbing me so tightly it nearly hurts. His hand grips my waist while his other reaches to the back of my neck and grabs a fistful of hair, pulling me until I'm only a breath away from his mouth. I could so easily kiss him if I wanted. How simple it would be to press my lips to his and melt even further into this madness that's taken over.
No one would ever stop me.
I know Jackson sure wouldn't. He's fallen as quickly into this dark hole that I have. He doesn't look guilty, nor does he look like he wants to push me away. He just looks… blank, with a tiny fire lit behind his irises.
It's startling, and arousing, and something I'm not ready to look away from.
He pulls me even closer. So close that I shut my eyes and prepare for lips I never thought I'd touch. I feel his breath fan across my face and his eyelashes whisper on my cheeks. I pucker my lips, neediness filling me to the brim.
Suddenly, I'm whipped around and my body is shoved into the bed. I barely have time to assess his dark room as my head is shoved into his black comforter. Ass up in the air, Jackson sticks his fingers inside of me, grunting when he finds wet heat. I mewl at the sensation, wanting more.
More, more, more.
More of what?
More Jackson, maybe. Or maybe Jackson is just a temporary drug that I'm using until I can breathe again.
He pulls his fingers out, and I cry out in pain at the loss, but he instantly replaces his fingers with his cock. Slowly this time, I feel every single inch of him as he slides into the hilt. I bite my tongue to stop the moan that wants to break free. If these walls are anything like my own, they're paper thin and any and every neighbor can hear us on the block.
He grabs ahold of my hair, wrapping it around his hand like a rein as he picks up his pace, slamming into me so hard that I feel him in my lungs. It's like he's angry and trying to fuck the guilt and pain out of himself.
He reaches around, sliding his long, strong fingers in between my slit and instantly finds my clit. My knees buckle, but Jackson releases my hip with his free hand and swings it under my stomach, holding me up as he continues to pummel into me at a brutal pace.
My toes curl as my stomach heats. I'm afraid to let this orgasm take hold. I'm afraid it's going to swallow me up. I'm like a rag doll at this point, loose limbs held up by Jackson's strong ones. All I can do is whimper and let out tiny moans as I'm ravaged and taken to heights I've never been before.
Darkness enters the corners of my sight, and the warm, tingling sensation I'm all too familiar with takes over my body. My body gives out again, and this time, Jackson lets me fall to his bed. Pressing his fists into the comforter on either side of me, he pounds into me only a few more times before letting out a low growl as he finds his own release.
I feel him slide out of me and fall on the bed next to me. I open my eyes, my foggy vision only slightly clearing enough for me to see darkness. His room, filled with dark furniture, decorates his dark walls. His mattress sits in the middle of the room, and directly above it sits a tiny light fixture, not nearly enough strength in it to brighten up this dungeon of a room.
That's it.
No decorations, no color, no light. It's like a jail cell in here. It's depressing.
My eyes fill with tears as I think of Jackson laying here each night in the dark, empty room filled with no personal memorabilia, no tv, not even a fucking clock. Bed, dresser, nightstand. Black, black, black. This room is a black hole of depression. I cry silently into the pillow as Jackson's breath evens out next to me. I know I'm not only crying for Jackson. I'm crying for everything that's happened lately. My emotions are spiraling out of control.
I can't take it anymore.
I close my eyes and try to swallow down my cries, but my eyes keep flowing tear after never ending tear. The pillow turns soggy, but eventually sleep starts to creep in on me, and I'm grateful when it comes so I don't have to think about my shit of a life for a while.