Glittering gowns rival the giant chandeliers hanging from the ceiling with too many crystal teardrops to count. A dance floor takes up a huge portion of the center of the room. Tables with fine linens and china dot the perimeter, and people fill in the gaps between fountains and ice sculptures.
Jack takes my gloved hand and twirls me in a circle. “Dance with me, beautiful lady?”
A giggle breaks through the awe at my surroundings. “Why, thank you, sir. I would love to.”
Jackson doesn’t let go of me for hours. At all times, his hand is on me. My waist. My hand. My shoulder. The small of my back. His touch warms and comforts. His gaze heats me to the tops of my gartered stockings.
The room is filled to capacity. I fan myself, but it does no good.
Jack leans close to my ear. “What’s wrong, Peaches?”
“Too many people. Not to mention my corset is too tight. Makes for a deadly combination.”
“C’mon. There’s a terrace and a garden, I think.” He pulls me along behind him as he makes our excuses across the ballroom to the doors leading outside.
As though we’ve stepped into an air-conditioned room, the cool air hits me, soothing and gentle. Jackson continues dragging me across the terrace, down the steps, and into the garden.
Once we round the hedgerow, he slows. “One problem fixed.”
“Yes, it’s much cooler out here. Amazing how many people showed up to one party.”
Jack pulls his phone out, turning on the flashlight app. “Let’s see what’s up there.”
He walks me up a slight knoll. At the top, under the low light of the moon, I can barely make out a shape below us.
“What’s down the hill?” I ask.
Jackson steps behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He whispers behind my ear. “A place for me to taste that pussy.”
My body responds to his words with an immediate thumping at my clit. “You naughty, naughty boy.”
He bites my earlobe. “You bet that beautiful ass I’m naughty. C’mon.”
With one hand in his and the other pulling up the front of my gown, I follow him down the hill at a jog. My tits bounce and jiggle. Suddenly, my left breast pops free of its confines. The laugh gurgles up from my chest.
When Jackson slows to a stop, he turns back to me. His phone spotlights the pebbled nipple enjoying the cool night air. He groans and pockets his cell.
“Now that’s what I call a wardrobe properly functioning.” He grabs me about the waist and yanks me to him. His mouth lands on my nipple as he sucks it in and laves loving attention on it with his hot tongue.
Music floats in the air, and laughing voices rise in the distance. But here, on this side of the small hill, we’re alone.
Jackson backs up, his mouth staying latched on to my bared tit as he pulls me to a short, bricked wall with vines growing over it. One of the things I love about southern California is that the greenery never ceases, even in the winter.
He lifts me onto the wall, pushing my dress up around me. He disappears beneath my petticoat. The first tentative touch of his mouth on my mound is followed by a growl.
“I love it when you skip the panties.” His muffled voice comes up through my skirt.
I brace my hands on the edge of the wall behind me, spreading my thighs to allow Jackson to have his snack. My one breast still hangs over the top of my corset, the nipple as tight as it can be.
His tongue slips over my clit and I let out a low hiss of pleasure. Jack sucks my lower lips and kisses my thighs. He bats my bud with this tongue, and his fingers slip inside. Pressure builds in me, just like every other time.
The coiling heat rises as he slides his tongue to lick the hole below. I pull one leg up to rest my foot on the brick, rolling backward to open myself to him even more. He rewards me by wetting that puckered spot and sliding a finger in while he sucks my clit so sweetly I could cry. His tongue delves into my pussy, and he pushes deep inside the other place, sending tingles out through my body.
He really does get off on getting me off.
I revel in his attention as he goes back to circling my nub with the tip of his tongue, massaging me as he plunges both of his thumbs into my entrance. The combination culminates, and an orgasm crashes over me in wave after wave of pleasure. He holds tight until the tremors subside.
When he comes out from under my skirt, his smile is wide. He licks his lips and pulls a handkerchief from his pocket. He first cleans the wetness from between my legs and then wipes his hands.
He checks his phone. “Almost midnight. Should we go up and bring in the New Year with the crowd?”
I throw my arms around him. “Nope. I just want you to hold me, right here—preferably while you slam into me with your hot dick.”