Nodding, I hitch my leg higher on his hip just as he slides in a single inch, both of us moaning at the sensation. Even after the foreplay, he’s so big that it takes a second for my body to adjust to his size, drenched or not.
His fingers lace in mine, and he lifts my hands above my head as his hips punch forward, thrusting until he’s buried to the hilt.
“Jackson,” I breathe.
My head feels light, my chest tight with the fullness of him inside me, and I desperately want him to move, to push me over the edge.
“Move, please,” I beg, tightening my fingers in his. I’m not above pleading if it means tumbling off the precipice he’s edged me on.
Thankfully, he obliges, withdrawing slowly and then surging forward, hitting the perfect spot inside of me that has my toes curling, incoherent words leaving my lips.
“I’m not going to last, Emma. I need you with me,” he pants, picking up his rhythm. His hips slap against mine as he fucks me, rough and uncontrolled. The erotic sounds of our joint arousal fill the room.
Dropping one of his hands to my clit, he circles it roughly, alternating pressure until I can feel the orgasm building and building and building. I grip his ass, pulling him into me as he rocks his hips, arousal spiraling inside of me until it’s pulsing. I can feel it prickling beneath the surface, ready to detonate.
Jackson kisses me hungrily, deepening it as his thrusts turn erratic and wild.
“Melt for me, Snowflake,” he rasps.
Pleasure rocks through me as my orgasm invades me, body and mind, sending me barreling toward euphoria like I’ve never known. My body tenses, and my belly quivers from the intensity.
I hear him groan, low and rough, before he thrusts deep one final time and comes, hot ropes of cum spurting inside of me, filling me, claiming me.
There’s no doubt in my mind, after this moment, that I’m wholly, completely Jackson Pearce’s.
A few moments later, he drops to the bed, rolling onto his side, still buried inside of me, gathering me against his chest. Our skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, our chests heaving as we try to catch our breath. Skin to skin, I feel more complete, more whole than I ever have.
In his arms, I feel safe.
“I’m crazy about you. You realize that, don’t you?” he mumbles against my hair, tightening his arms around me.
I can feel him seeping out of me from where we’re still connected, wetting both of us. It’s obscene, dirty, but yet, it makes me feel… his.
“I’m pretty crazy about you too.”
His chest vibrates as he chuckles. “You just blew my fucking mind, Snowflake. That was so dirty and so damn hot.”
“I think you bring out this side of me. It’s never… been like that with anyone else,” I tell him honestly. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone, the way that I feel about Jackson. And it’s not just in the bedroom.
“For me either.”
For a moment, neither of us speaks, the room quiet, only the sound of our labored breathing filling the room until he tenderly pulls out of me and leaves me on the bed as he walks to the bathroom.
I don’t think I could move right now, even if I wanted to. My limbs feel impossibly heavy, almost as tired as my eyes, and I curl into the plush comforter as sleep begins to creep its way in.
The bed dips, and then Jackson’s there, fingers pressing into my thighs as he parts them, using a warm rag to clean me.
“That was sweet,” I murmur, my eyes still closed, a soft smile on my lips.
He chuckles. “I told you I would take care of you, Snowflake. I meant it.”
I hum and wait for him to crawl back into the bed, sighing when he does and hauls me against his warm body. His lips press against my neck, and I burrow into his hold.
I’m sleepy. And sated. And deliriously… happy.
“Sleep, Emma. Tomorrow’s a busy day, and you need rest.”
It’s the last day before the party, which means final touches and praying that everything goes smoothly.
Sometimes it feels like the entire town might be against us, especially when it comes to this party, but then there are moments like this, and it just feels… right. And all the rest fades away.
17
emma
Making the list… checking it twice.
My head is pounding so loudly that I can practically hear the thrum in my ears, and it shows no signs of stopping. I scan the list once more, double-checking each item that I’ve marked off.
Dress - check
Favor bags - check
Ask Jackson to double-check place settings （unconfirmed）
Electronic equipment for music - Jackson currently picking up
Also ask Jackson to make sure the band has everything they need to set up
Caterer: confirmed setting up - check
Cake: delivered - check
Officially, eight hours till party time, and things are going surprisingly smoothly… aside from the massive migraine that I’ve had since this morning that I’m sure is stress related.
If I’m honest, all I want to do is crawl back into Jackson’s ridiculously comfy bed and sleep for the next twelve hours. My body is sore in all of the best places from last night, and as anxious as I am for this party to go off without a hitch, I’m looking forward to catching up on sleep without the stress of this party hanging over my head.
“Emma, darling?”
The voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I glance up to see my mother walking toward me. She’s wearing a two-piece suit, heels, and a matching pair of pearls, flawless as always.
“Hi, Mom,” I say, stepping in to give her a hug, to-do list still clutched in my hand. “You know the party doesn’t start for another eight hours, right?”
She nods. “Of course. I just wanted to check in on you. It’s been a couple weeks since you stopped by the house, but I know how hard you’ve been working on the party. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Stealing a glance at my list, I shake my head. “Nope. I think we’ve got it covered. I just need to get home and change, then get back up here so I can make sure everything is delivered and set up correctly.”
Mom looks around the building, her eyes raking over the decorations, the table settings, the lights twinkling along the rafters courtesy of Jackson and his brothers.
“Everything truly looks amazing, darling. I’m so proud of you,” she says, reaching out to pat my arm affectionately. “I see you’ve kept the Worthington place card holders—they are a lovely addition. Oh! And the tree. Beautiful. Your father and I are not overjoyed about having to be with the Pearce family tonight, but we will be here for you. He needs to see all of the hard work you’ve put in despite the adversity you’ve faced having to work with… them.”
“Well, thank you for the compliment and for being here tonight,” I say, suddenly overcome with the urge to hug my mom. I toss my arms around her and hold her close against me. This year might be different when it comes to our family tradition, and I know she’s not happy that it’s changing, but it means a lot to me that she’s here.
I feel her pat my back and whisper against my ear, “I’d do anything for you, darling girl.”
I didn’t realize how much I needed this until now. The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of different emotions, and in the midst of all of it, I feel different.