“I know you want this,” he growled. I nodded mutely with my eyes closed, focusing on the sensation of his velvety shaft growing harder with each second. The tight elastic of my panties cut against my thighs like rope.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
“I-- I want it, Declan,” I choked, waving my hips from side to side slowly. I could already imagine it: his hands strong and firm, his thick cock buried in me... his torso bent over mine, covering me completely. It was so vivid in my mind, it almost felt like it was happening and I moaned softly.
“Down,” he barked.
I shook my head. I didn’t understand.
“Down!” he said again, reaching for my ankle. In one deft movement he forced me to my knees and pinned me against the sofa bench. His fingers tore at the ties on my panties and ripped them open as his hips thrust against my backside.
Angling his knees inside mine, he shoved my legs even farther apart.
Leaning forward, his chest flat against my back, he breathed into my ear.
“Isn’t this better, Margot? Isn’t this right where you wanted to be?”
I nodded urgently.
He released my hip with one hand and began fisting his cock, bouncing the head against my buttocks, stroking himself against my thighs. I moaned and angled back into him, trying to position myself at the head of his hard cock. I wanted desperately to be touched.
“This is a beautiful ass, Margot,” he snarled, backing away. I felt him jerking himself against me, his fist strong and pumping. “One day you are going to beg me to take your ass.”
I mewled softly against the leather and pushed backward, eager to feel any part of him. But he just pumped his cock in his fist, watching me, all spread open in front of him. I began to realize my display was all he wanted. He wanted to look.
Slipping my hand underneath me, I found my folds and slipped my fingers inside, momentarily shocked by how swollen and wet I was.
“Yes,” he groaned. “Touch yourself. Let me see.”
Emboldened by his encouragement, I angled my hips back and spread my lips open, circling my clit with one slow finger.
His hand pumped faster. I could hear the thick, soft sound of the friction and he worked himself harder and harder. Knowing how good that felt, I worked myself harder too, my hips grinding in counter circles as my fingers flipped my clit back and forth.
Suddenly he snatched my panties from the floor and groaned, covering the head of his cock as he shot his seed into my white, crumpled panties. Watching him over my shoulder, I bit my lip at the sight of him: his torso gleaming and taught, his mouth open in a snarl as he jerked the last of his seed into the white cotton.
Finally, his head dropped forward and he sat back on his heels, breathless and heaving. A low groan of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he pushed himself back, my panties still clutched in his fist.
With my forearms still balanced on the long bench of the sofa, I rested my forehead on the soft leather and looked at Jackson through the dark curtain of my hair. Still seated in the captain’s chair across the aisle, he raised his champagne glass slowly to his lips and quaffed a healthy amount.
“Come here,” I beckoned him.
In an instant, he was kneeling behind me, his trousers pressed up against my bare thighs. Slipping his arm around my waist, he lifted and turned me effortlessly to face him, and then knelt again, guiding me to straddle his legs.
“I need more,” I sighed against his jaw as he circled me in his strong arms, aligning my body to his.
“I know,” he said confidently, softly.
“I need you,” I murmured.
He nodded, pulling back and meeting my eyes intensely. “I know,” he said.
In a single motion, he held me by my hips and pushed me up and onto the bench. I pulled my dress down to cover myself but he stayed my hand.
“Don’t…” he said with a smile and I let him move my hand to the side.
His eyes hungrily fixed on my exposed sex, he deftly slid his linen trousers down and off, then pulled the v-neck over his head. I let my mouth fall open as my mind was overwhelmed once again by the sight of his lean, narrow hips and broad, husky shoulders. Though I had licked him up and down a hundred times or more, still I found myself instantly craving his skin on my tongue.
He held his hand out.
“Your shoe?” he asked with a sly grin. I bit my lip and picked up my leg, placing my heel gently in the palm of his hand.
“Thank you,” he murmured, holding the back of my calf with one hand while he expertly unbuckled the clasp with the other. He slid the shoe off and set it aside, then stroked the arch of my foot hard with his thumb.
“Oh my gosh,” I whispered breathlessly. White pangs of desire shot straight up my bone marrow to my center.