Chapter 360
At first, my eyes flutter shut because of how good it feels - Jackson, something about when he touches me, it just...lights something in me, kindles a warmth, makes me feel so cozy and warm and adored. But then, after a few minutes after I realize that he's taking quite a bit of care to ensure that his wrists come in contact with my most important pressure points, and that his hands spread out from there-
I realize what's happening.
That Jackson is scent marking me - every inch of me, and taking a great deal of care in doing it. I smile, pleased at the idea that this is Jackson's very own version of claiming me, of marking me as his own, of wiping out every inch of Luca's scent by gently covering it with his.
The minutes slip by and I fall almost into a daze, my body moving with Jackson's as he covers me. I'm nowhere near falling asleep, but the state of calm into which I slip - it's like nothing I've ever felt before. Jackson's hands are gentle but firm as they move over my back, and down each of my arms, and then up over my neck. He presses gentle kisses to my skin as he goes, and I honestly don't think that they're part of the scent marking - I think it's just him being very sweet, and slightly unable to resist.
A little bit to my chagrin, Jackson leaves my underwear on - flimsy as they are-as he moves downward over my legs. A delicious shiver pulses through me, though, when he brings his face close to my ass, and presses his cheek briefly against it, and then gives my cheek a tiny nip with the edge of his canine. I laugh, pleased, and so does he.
But then he moves on, continuing down. When he gets to my feet, I hear him click his tongue in disapproval
"What?" I ask, tuming my head a little to peak at him as he kneels at my feet and bends my leg at the knee, lifting my shoe high.
Jackson gives me a dubious look. "These shoes are ridiculous, Clark.Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.
I burst out laughing, delighted. "They are very fashionable and very expensive, McClintock." He grins at me and shakes his head, his fingers making fast work of the little buckle around my ankle. "They offer no traction, and I don't see how you can run in them-"
"They're not for running -* protest, grinning a little as I lay my head down on the pillow, peering at him over my shoulder.
"You're a spy, Clark," he growls. "You always need to be able to escape."
I shrug, conceding the point as he pulls the first shoe off and lets my leg drop. "They're supposed to be sexy," I murmur, still wanting to defend my little shoes just a bit.
Jackson moves his eyes to mine, perfectly serious as he grabs my other ankle, making me grin at the satisfying smack his palm makes against my skin before he bends my leg at the knee, lifting my foot higher.
"You have the world's most perfect feet, Ariel," he says, like it makes him kind of mad that I even wear shoes at all. "The idea that you could improve them by shoving them into some
stupid shoe..."
I grin at him, laughing a little, but he just shakes his head at me still dead serious - before he unbuckles the second shoe, slips it off, and then dips his head slightly and presses a kiss to the arch of my foot.
I gasp a little at that - at the feel of his soft lips against my ticklish skin, at the light stubble that grazes my toes, at the idea of being touched somewhere that I've obviously, obviously never been kissed by any other person.
God damn it, but I just start to come undone. Something in me, in my spirit, goes completely to pieces for Jackson - just crumbles down, until I'm completely bare. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm very nearly naked as Jackson finishes running his hands over my feet, and then crawls forward over the bed, and then slips a hand under my hip, pulling, asking me to roll onto my back.
Moving slowly, I comply.