Archive of Our Own

The draw had been a surprise. Not an unwelcome one, in truth you had never been to a fundraiser before, and the thought of a gala sounded ridiculously glamorous in your head.

Of course, you knew it was a particularly unwelcome task to be sent to the annual PTMC fundraising event to try and get as many donors as possible to agree to, instead of giving dermatology another massage chair for their attendings, make their checks out to the emergency department this year.

The year prior, when you had still been working day shift, you had been witness to Gloria almost ripping Robby’s head off after he had been especially difficult at the previous night’s event and had apparently insulted one of the donors so thoroughly that Gloria had to run personal damage control, resulting in the donor coming in the next day and getting shown around the ED like a child on its birthday.

When this year came around, Gloria had issued a very direct warning to him as she announced during shift change that the night shift would also be invited this year. Meaning Jack Abbot, as the leading nightshift attending, and another person from both day and night shift respectively would be attending alongside Robby.

You had been a little giddy when they pulled your name from the bowl. The thought of seeing Jack Abbot in a tux was far more enticing than you would ever willingly confess.

The moment you saw him for the first time, after your very intense first day at the Pitt, when he strolled in with his carefree attitude and the backpack hanging casually over his broad shoulders, you had been done for.

You couldn’t even pinpoint what exactly had you this riled up. Was it his grey curls, that looked so inviting to thread your fingers through? Or his kind hazel eyes, that never seemed to miss any detail? His attention to detail in general, the way he watched the ED like a hawk for any sign of a patient’s state declining? Or maybe it was his dry humor? The way he could so easily pull you out of a steady downwards spiral after you made a mistake?

When you had first transferred to nightshift and he became your direct attending, you had been terrified. Terrified to embarrass yourself in front of him, because every time he entered a room, your brain seemed to freeze and your heart hammered in your chest like it wanted to escape. With or without your body.

But quickly, you learned that there was no reason to run. Robby had you very well prepared. He taught you so many things and helped you navigate the treacherous waters of the emergency department. You had a solid foundation of knowledge, and you knew how to use the skills you learned.

Just every once in a while, your heart still did somersaults. Like when Abbot stood directly behind you, correcting your hold of the scalpel or showing you the right angle to cut or insert a tube. Or when he leaned in just a little too close, so the scent of his cologne flooded your nose, while he whispered something to you that made you laugh.

Sometimes, you were certain he was doing it on purpose. But then on other days, you weren’t so sure.

Jack Abbot was a successful doctor, a war vet, and deceptively athletic with his broad shoulders that stretched his scrubs so deliciously. There was no way he would want, well, someone like you. A chubby, insecure med student that was always the ‘friend’ type. No one fell for you at first sight. It was fine, you had learned to live with it. You had even learned to love your body with its curves, but some days were still harder than others.

The night of the gala was your one chance to ever get to see Abbot without the stress of an impending or just passed shift. He usually hung out with the nightshift for one beer after hours and you had taken every chance you’d gotten to see him. You didn’t even like beer, handing yours off to Shen or Parker whenever you got offered one, but didn’t want to seem like a square that just came to those outings to lust after your attending.

You had planned everything to a T. You had a day off before the fundraiser, feeling like God gave you just the slightest bit of grace.

The week before, you went to go dress shopping with Dana, who had been chosen as the attendee from dayshift. With her, you had found the perfect dress. Long and flowy, not too tight and just loose enough to make you feel confident. You selected the delivery option, and it arrived at your door just hours before the event.

You were just done with your everything, EVERYTHING shower when the delivery arrived and you giddily hung the dress over the door of your bedroom before putting on the underwear you had bought especially for this day. Not that anything would happen, but what was the harm in feeling confident and even a little sexy?

You applied make-up from a tutorial that you had studied religiously and practiced a couple of times since the fundraiser had been announced, because you wanted to look perfect. You had to admit to yourself that you did a bang-up job.

That was until you opened the bag and froze. That was not the dress you bought. Your eyes widened and you felt the stress well up in you. There was no time to get another dress. Robby, Dana and Abbot would be here in under two hours to pick you up and you had nothing else to wear to an event like that.

You frantically searched the dress for a size tag and thankfully, it was at least your size. It was even the same color you had picked out. A simple mistake. Maybe this could still work?

Carefully you got it out of the bag and slipped it on. It was a lot tighter than the dress you had chosen. It clung to your curves and had a slit on one side, going far higher up your leg than you had ever chosen for yourself. But that wasn’t the worst thing.

The worst thing was how it clung to your lower stomach. The pouch. The root of so many of your insecurities. It emphasized the soft curve, the muffin top, the very thing you had been laughed at since you were in high school. The part of your body that your mother always squeezed when she wanted to emphasize the weight you had gained since the last visit, even when you had been working out or kept your weight on one level.

You felt tears well up in your eyes. You couldn’t go to the gala like this. No way. You would rather drown yourself in your tub than let anyone see you like this. You couldn’t go. Not with Abbot coming as well. You wanted to feel pretty, had that really been too much to ask?

The frustrated scream burst out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. But it was already too late to cancel. Gloria would personally rip off your head if you flaked at the last minute.

With increasing desperation, you rummaged through your closet, but except for a dress you had worn only once at a ren-fair, there was nothing even remotely close to what would be appropriate to wear to such an event.

The ring of your phone on your nightstand pulled you from the depths of your desperation.

“On route, see you in 10.” Sent by Dana.

You took a few deep breaths. ‘This is fine. Totally fine,’ you thought to yourself, desperately trying not to feel like the dog from the burning house meme.

You took another long look in the mirror. At least your face looked pretty. Your panic attack had not smudged your make-up, and you thanked the gods for the foresight to use the waterproof one.

Your pretty face. The only compliment a chubby girl ever got. If anybody said that tonight you might have to jump out of the nearest window.

With shaking hands, you grabbed a dark silk shawl that you had originally gotten to shield you from the cold wind, but now it was going to be used to shield your body from judgement. Something to hide behind as much as possible.

You were looking out the window when you saw the car pull up. You didn’t know whose car it was, just that it was a black one. Cars had never been your special interest, but your phone pinged again with another message from Dana.

“We’re here!”

You forced yourself to look away from the mirror, to drown the burning insecurity that flooded every inch of you, and to put on a smile. Smile through the pain. You could do that, you had done that multiple times already. No reason to let them know something was up.

When you got to the car, you saw Dana holding the door open for you while Robby sat on the driver’s seat with a face like grumpy cat. He’d rather be anywhere else than here. Despite his scowling, he looked amazing in a tux.

As he saw you, he managed a kind smile. “Hey, good to see that at least nightshift has our back.”

You looked around the car as you got in. “No Abbot?”

“Jack is meeting us there. Doesn’t like my driving,” Robby huffed as he started the car back up and pulled into the busy evening traffic.

“You look good kid,” Dana said with a smile and looked you over. Of course she had gotten the right dress. And of course she looked stunning.

“Thanks,” you got out, trying your darndest to sound carefree and easygoing. As if the reality of your showing pouch didn’t make you want to crawl into bed and hide until this day was over.

“That’s not the dress we picked out though, is it?”, Dana asked with an eyebrow raised.

“No… Must have been a mistake with the store,” you said with a light tone in your voice, fighting back tears again. Thankfully, she seemed to notice your turmoil and turned to Robby, giving him a peptalk instead as you made your way to the hotel that the fundraiser was in.

Jack Abbot was already standing at the bar, a drink in hand, trying to drown out the noise of all the people swarming the hotel ballroom, the fake laughter, and the dull conversation Gloria tried to rope him into with a potential donor.

Abbot couldn’t stand these types of events; it was too much. And what he hated even more was getting dragged out by Gloria in his dress uniform because it made her hospital look even better for employing vets. He was already halfway over to Shen to give him Halloween and Thanksgiving off if he went in his stead but then… the second name got drawn. Yours.

Ever since you had switched to the night shift, Abbot found himself looking forward to his shifts more than usual. The best part of his day was seeing you laugh about some corny joke that he had found himself making more of in your proximity.

It took all his hardly earned discipline not to ask you out. Not yet. You only had a few months left as a resident. Two months, three weeks and four days to be exact. Then he would no longer be your attending. You’d be one too. No more conflict of interest. No HR bullshit, no pressure for you to say yes, only if you really wanted to.

He couldn’t wait to see you and get away from the annoying man that was droning on about golf. Why did every obnoxiously rich person always play golf?

Gloria was just telling an over-exaggerated story of a very routine procedure that he once did very by the book. It was boring. He had a great story of saving a guy with only a razor blade, floss and a silly straw but he had been explicitly forbidden from telling it.

His eyes wandered the room as he took another sip… and then he saw you.

The world seemed to stand still for a moment. He had always known that you were gorgeous, not just a beautiful, stunning face but all soft curves that he’d love to worship for hours. To map out every part of you with his hands… and with his tongue. Not that he had ever thought about you like that. Because that was inappropriate. Too inappropriate. And now, seeing you in that silky dress, looking like a vision, like a goddess sent down from the heavens, he was sure he’d never think of anything else ever again. The way the shimmering fabric hugged your curves in all the right ways, that slit up your leg that revealed so much more skin than he’d ever dreamed to see in such a public setting, and the way it rounded the soft curve of your belly made him almost choke on his drink.

“Dr. Abbot? Dr. Abbot!” Gloria’s irritating voice brought him back into the here and now and he tore his gaze away from you. Reluctantly, like it was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

“What?”

“Mr. Jefferson was complementing you on the procedure,” Gloria said with a pressed smile.

“Yeah. Cool. Thanks,” Abbot said, already searching for you in the crowd again.

“May I ask,” Jefferson said, full of glee, “did your patient survive this procedure?”

“Oh. Yeah, he did. But he got hit by a bus when he left the hospital. Excuse me.” With that, he left the two of them standing there, flabbergasted.

“Dr. Abbot!”, Gloria tried but he just kept walking. On his way, he emptied his glass, gave it to a waiter and picked up two flutes of champagne.

You stepped into the ballroom carefully, trying to wrap yourself into the shawl to hide, to crawl into a cocoon so you could get through this evening, but fate seemed to have other plans.

A coat room attendant took your shawl along with Dana’s jacket and handed you a chip to get it back later before you could protest. You felt exposed.

Even though people kept talking just like before, you could swear that they were staring. Making fun of you already. They knew the dress wasn’t what you meant to wear. Maybe they even thought it was too small.

Anxiety settled in your chest, took away your breath. You wanted to turn, to run. To be anywhere but here.

Then there was a tap on your shoulder. When you turned there was no one, but when your head whipped to the other side - there he was. Jack Abbot. He looked dangerously handsome. He was wearing his dress uniform, and by God, was it a vision. The dark blue was his color; there was no argument to be made. His eyes were completely focused on you and you wanted to disappear into the ground.

“Liquid courage?”, he offered with a smile, and you took the champagne and emptied the glass in one go.

He blinked as you took the other one too and emptied that as well. “Easy there. The bar is open until the end of the night.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled and crossed your arms in front of you, trying to hide.

His gaze softened. “Nervous?”

You nodded. “I’d rather deal with a combative patient than with this.”

He chuckled warmly. “Understandable. At least the patients are direct.” His gaze raked over you again and you shifted uncomfortably.

His hands took hold of your arms and gently tucked them away from your body.

“What are you doing?”, you asked nervously.

“Looking at you,” he said while taking you in again. “You look gorgeous.”

Your face flushed. “You don’t have to be nice,” you muttered. “This isn’t even the dress I got, it’s all wrong and…”

You had to stop talking because a wave of insecurity constricted your neck. You couldn’t breathe.

“If that’s the wrong dress I can’t even imagine what the right one was,” he said, still staring at you. “You look perfect.”

God, you wanted to believe him. You really did. But the mean little voice in your head, a steady companion since childhood, whispered in your ear:

‘He’s being nice.’

‘He will make fun of you behind your back.’

‘You look disgusting.’

You freed your hands and took a step back, your head reeling a little from the champagne you just downed.

“Don’t hide,” he said, his face earnest and his eyes searching yours. “You look amazing. That dress…”, he lets out a breathy sound, “wear it with confidence.”

With confidence. He could just as easily have asked you to wear a size small. Impossible.

“I… I need to find Dana. Excuse me,” you said, trying not to sound choked up before you slipped into the masses of people.

Abbot let out a slow breath. “Damn.”

Before he could follow you, Gloria’s clutches landed on his shoulder. “Dr. Abbot. There are some more people that would love to meet you.”

“Right… I just…”, he tried, not willing to leave you out of his sight just yet. He could tell you didn’t believe him and that offended him greatly. You should feel great about yourself, but he felt the insecurity seeping out of you.

“No. Dr. Abbot. Now.” Gloria insisted in no uncertain terms. “You can spare five minutes of your time, right?”

He huffed but followed her to a group of the poshest people he had ever seen.

You found your way to a corner, near an open window. You tried hard to breathe but also didn’t want to breathe in too deeply, out of fear the dress would stretch even more.

You caught your reflection. Abbot had called you perfect, but you failed to see it. He was just being nice… right?

A few people started dancing and you leaned against the wall, silently watching the others. Robby was holding his own talking to a group of women, with Dana mumbling words of encouragement in his ear. Gloria was talking to another group, equally rich and important-looking.

You closed your eyes for a moment. You had chugged the champagne too fast and it had gone straight to your head.

The room was spinning ever so slightly.

“Shall we dance?” You looked up to find Abbot standing in front of you again.

He held out his arm, offering his hand to you.

“I… I didn’t know you were a dancer,” you said hesitantly.

“What? Just because I only have one leg I can’t dance?”

“I didn’t mean…”, you stuttered out, but he winked and pulled you towards him.

“I’m messing with you. Come on, sunshine.”

The familiar nickname gave you butterflies. You knew it was just because you were always smiling like an idiot when he walked by, but still. You appreciated it. 

You took his hand and he pulled you onto the dance floor. He started by spinning you around once, before one of his hands landed on your hip.

He had to stop himself from digging his fingers into the curve of your hip, the slight touch needed to be enough for now. He would have loved to touch you more; let you feel just how appreciative he was of your curves.

You put a hand on his shoulder, unsure of what to do, where to look, but as the music started, he moved you effortlessly over the dance floor.

“You need to relax, sunshine,” he murmured into your ear. “You’re stiff as a board.”

“Sorry… just not used to this. You don’t have to do this… dancing with me.”

“You really need to stop assuming that I would do anything I don’t want to do.”

“So, you like this stuff?” You wanted to gesture around the room.

He paused for a moment. “Not in general, no.”

“What dirt does Gloria have on you that you agreed to come?”, you asked curiously while trying very hard not to step on his toes.

“It’s not so much about threats. More about the company.” He gave your hip a very deliberate squeeze.

Heat rushed into your cheeks. He couldn’t mean you, right? You had imagined that.

“Robby is…”, you started trying to find him in the crowd, but Abbot’s dry laugh interrupted your search.

“I was not talking about Robby. Jesus, I… I don’t know how much clearer I can be here, without coming on too strong.” He spun you around so that your back was against his chest, his face right next to yours. “I think you’re incredible. I only came here because your name got drawn.”

Your face was burning up. You were sure you looked like a tomato by now. “Dr. Abbot… I…”

“I think we’re past that right now, aren’t we?”, he asked quietly into your ear, spinning you back around so you could face him.

“Jack…” There it was. His name. You had whispered it so many times to yourself. In the moments when you allowed yourself to dream. That it was him touching you, kissing your neck.

His breath seemed to hitch slightly before he started to smile. He had waited so long to hear his name on your lips.

“I really thought I could tough it out until you’re an attending. I really did, but you just had to show up in that dress, didn’t you?” His voice was rougher than any other time you’d ever heard it.

Your hand slid off his shoulder to his arm, and you felt yourself squeezing his bicep. It was so firm under your touch you almost moaned.

“You look damn good, yourself. The uniform really suits you,” you heard yourself saying. The smile he gave you was so much better than any praise you could have imagined.

“Ah… this old thing?”

“Maybe I like vintage.”

“God, I hope you do,” he mumbled and spun you around one more time.

You caught the sight of Dana with her eyebrows raised and you almost fell over Jacks foot.

“I feel watched.”

“You deserve to be,” his voice was full of soft adoration.

The music stopped and you let go reluctantly. This one moment might have been worth it.

But then it registered. Abbot’s hand never left your hip. He was still standing right beside you, one arm around you now.

A man tapped his champagne glass and started a long-winded speech about community responsibility, commending all hospital workers – pause for applause – before opening the buffet and sprinting to it himself.

Your gaze found Jack’s.

“Hungry?”, he asked, his thumb tracing the curve of your hip. You normally would lean away from a touch at that spot, too embarrassed usually, but this was different. He seemed to caress the curve like he was tracing the lines of a precious marble statue.

“No,” you gasped out, too scared that this moment would end to even think about food.

“Thirsty?”

Fuck yes, you were thirsty. But not for beverages.

“Let’s get you something to drink then, yes?”

For a terrifying second you thought he’d let go, but he kept his hand right on your hips while leading you to the bar.

“Champagne?”

“Water,” you got out. You didn’t want to misremember a single thing about this night. Hell, you were half sure that you were already hallucinating.

“Coming right up,” he said and leaned over the bar to order. Without his hand on your waist, you suddenly felt very exposed again.

You took a step back to make space for someone. Just as you turned, you bumped into a woman and her full glass of red wine.

Your eyes widened as the red liquid drenched your dress. Fucking Christ! You couldn’t catch a break today.

The woman apologized again and again, but you couldn’t hear her voice. It was over. Your one chance after Jack had actually looked at you was lost.

You waved her off and tried to smile reassuringly.

“Hey, what happened?” Jack stood in front of you again, looking at the wine that was dripping down your dress.

“Just an accident… I… I should call it a night.” You tried to sound unbothered but couldn’t even convince yourself.

His lips curled to a smile. “I’ve got a room upstairs. We could get out of here and you could… clean yourself up.” His eyes searched for yours and you nodded very slowly.

His hand on your lower back led you outside of the ballroom and into the elevators. He pressed a button before the doors slowly closed.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. This was crazy. Absolutely insane. You were currently following your attending to a hotel room. His hotel room! After said attending danced with you and admitted that you were the only reason he even agreed to come to this gala!

His hand came up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I don’t think they are worth that much.”

“I beg to differ.” He stepped closer, until he looked down at you, his eyes never leaving your face, his hands resting on your waist.

You let out a nervous laugh. “I… I’m questioning my sanity. I can’t believe this is happening.”

“And what exactly do you mean with ‘this’?”, he asked, his eyes searching your face.

You bit your lip. He was so close. “You… flirting with me. You… you are flirting with me, right? I am not drunk and misinterpreting this.” If he said no now, said that you were in fact imagining this, you’d actually jump off the roof.

He leaned in very slowly, giving you every chance to pull away before pressing his lips to yours in a very gentle kiss.

Your heart stopped. It was like it fell right through your chest. You had imagined his lips on yours a million times. Dreamed of them. Wondering if they were rough or soft, if he’d be a firm kisser, what he would taste like. Nothing even came close to the actual feeling.

“See? Not imagining things at all. I think you are irresistible, sunshine,” he said, his voice low and full of earnestness.

For a single moment, your anxiety took the backseat. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you kissed him deeply, letting out a moan that made Jack gasp and he tightened his grip on you.

“If you make that sound again, we won’t make it to the room,” he rasped out.

Your breath was labored as you looked up at him. His eyes had a hungry look, staring at you like he was about to devour you.

Chills rose over your neck at the sheer intensity of his gaze. Then the elevator stopped on his floor, and he took you by the hand, urgently pulling you down the hallway.

He opened a door and led you into a nice-looking hotel room with a good view over the city, but you could barely notice that right now.

Because in the middle of the room was it. Prominent and eye catching. The king-size bed. The implication alone of standing in a room with Jack, next to a bed that was not for a critically ill patient, was nerve-wracking.

Slowly, you looked up at him. He was standing next to the door, keeping a respectable distance from you, but watching your every step.

“If you want to leave, I will not stop you. If you want me to turn around and stare at the wall for the whole time while you fix your dress, you tell me. If you want me to leave and send your dress to the dry cleaner’s, I will leave you alone. But…”

He took a step closer. “But if you let me, I would love to stay here with you. Because honestly? I have been waiting for a moment with you for nine months, one week and three days now.”

“You… You would?”, you asked carefully and took a step towards him.

He took the movement as an invitation, walking over to you and letting his hands ghost over your arms. “I would. And I don’t want you to feel pressured. I… I just want you to see, maybe just for a moment, how beautiful I really think you are.”

You gulped. “Beautiful?”

“Stunning.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Gorgeous.” He kissed the other side of your neck. “Attractive. And I will show you just how much I believe this to be true.”

Your hands came up to cup his face. “Jack…”

“Tell me to stop. Tell me that I am too old for you. Tell me that this is wrong… but only if you believe it.” His forehead rested against yours.

He leaned down to kiss you again, this one hungrier than the last. You gasped against his lips but were quick to reciprocate.

When your lips were free for a moment, you looked at him, face flushed. And to your surprise and pleasure, you could see that his was just as red as yours.

“I want you, Jack.”

As if you weighed nothing, Jack picked you up, carrying you over to a dresser. With one hand he swiped it clear before setting you down and kissing along your neck.

You moaned and leaned your head back to give him better access, while your hands tangled in his curls.

“Can I take this off?”, he murmured against your ear, while his fingers were already tugging on the zipper of your dress.

You nodded breathlessly, face flushed, and your hand went for the light switch. He caught you by the wrist and shook his head very slowly. “I want to see you. Every beautiful inch.”

“B-but…” Your breath hitched, insecurity burning your insides and you looked away from him. “I… I have stretch marks. I don’t want you to be turned off.”

His finger found your chin and tilted it upwards. “There is no chance of that happening. I promise.”

You shifted on the dresser, trying to be brave.

Slowly, he took a step back, his eyes fully on you, before he started to open his jacket. It fell to the floor. The black tie followed, then his white dress shirt.

You stared at him, unable to say anything as he undressed completely. His broad chest was so much wider than it looked in his normal clothes. His biceps were the size of your head and you were almost drooling at the sight of them, but he wasn’t finished.

While maintaining eye-contact, he opened his belt and slowly slid his pants down, leaving him only in his boxers. A happy trail of greyish hair disappeared into them.

Your mouth went dry at the pure image of them tenting impressively. He stepped out of the pants and took a step closer. “Would you like me to stop?”, he murmured.

“God, no,” you gasped out.

He took your hand in his and for a moment you thought he would let you take off his boxers, but he put it on his right leg, leading it down until your fingers reached the prosthetic leg.

“Does this turn you off?”, he asked, tilting his head to the side.

You frowned. “What? No, of course not. You… God, you’re perfect.”

“But you can see that I am missing a leg, yes?”

“Why would I care about that, Jack, you’re the hottest man I have ever seen. I…”

“And that is exactly how I feel about you,” he interrupted gently. “I think you look indescribably attractive. Nothing hiding under your dress will change my mind about it.”

You stood up slowly, turning your back to him and moving your hair to the side, so that he could open the zipper.

His hands found you, one arm snaking around your stomach, his lips pressing firm kisses on your shoulders as his free hand opened the zipper and the dress fell to the floor.

He groaned at the sight of your underwear, and you felt immense waves of relief that you had decided to treat yourself to a nice pair of lingerie.

He kissed your neck again, his teeth nipping at your shoulder. “Can I go on?”

You nodded and turned back to him, to give him access to the clasp at the front of your bra.

“You little minx,“ he smirked and gave you another kiss, while his practiced fingers went to work. Before you even registered his hands on you, your bra was already open.

At the sight of your breasts, he let out a low, gravely sound. “Christ…” He kissed down your neck, his kisses leaving a heated trail in their wake.

When his mouth reached your left nipple, his hand came up to cup your right breast and squeezed it.

You let out a soft moan while he led you back to the bed, letting you get settled, before he kissed down your stomach. When his mouth reached the hem of your panties, he looked for your consent.

“Take them off,” you rasped out.

He complied. Oh god, did he ever. His teeth dug into the fabric as he pulled them down your legs with his mouth.

You raised your hips automatically to ease his job. He settled on his knees in front of the bed, having you in complete view now.

“Magnificent,” he murmured, causing you to sit up a little. Your arm came up instinctively, trying to shield the scars on your stomach from his gaze, but again, he moved your arm out of the way.

“I don’t know whoever made you feel insecure about your stretch marks or your body. But they should be fucking ashamed of themselves. You deserve to be celebrated. Worshipped.” He dipped down, pressing a kiss to your stomach, before he looked back up at you again. “There is nothing sexier than a real human person, who has experienced life strongly enough for it to leave traces.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you leaned down and kissed him. His thumbs came up, wiping the tears way, while his tongue found yours. “Believe me. Please,” he whispered against your lips.

Slowly, very slowly you nodded. “I do.”

“Then let me make you feel good.”

“I want to make you feel good too.”

“Then it’s good that we have all night and a late check out tomorrow.” He winked.

With a surge of lust, you leaned down and kissed him, before tugging at his arms to pull him onto the bed next to you.

You leaned over him, kissing him desperately, while your hands squeezed his arm, your other hand going back to his curls.

He groaned as he once more kissed his way down your body, taking a long moment to kiss over your stretch marks while his hand groped your breasts. When he reached the apex of your thighs, he hooked one arm around your leg to raise it over his shoulder, before he dove in.

His tongue lapped at your core desperately as sounds of pleasure fell from his lips. You writhed against his face, grinding yourself against him.

“Fuck…” It fell from your lips like a prayer. “Jack, fuck, please don’t stop. Oh god…”

He let out a rough laugh. “No fucking chance.” His finger found your core, sinking in torturously slow as his tongue flicked over your clit, before he sucked on it.

“More…”, you begged breathlessly.

“You want more, pretty girl?”, he teased, keeping up the terribly delicious rhythm of his finger moving in and out of your wet cunt.

“Yes… Please… Give me more…Please,” you begged again, almost not recognizing your own voice.

He gave you a second finger, angling them both inside you, studying you. He took in everything, every little whimper, every micro-expression, every gasp, every movement that made your fingers clutch around the comforter.

He licked and nipped at you while finding the perfect pace inside you that made you gasp and whimper.

“Fuck… please. Jack…”

“That’s it. Say my name like that.” He groaned against you. “Let me hear you, sunshine.”

You moaned louder. You could feel yourself getting closer. The unstoppable feeling of your impending orgasm welling up inside of you, coiling you tight like a spring, ready to let go.

“I… I am going to come…”, you whined.

“Not yet… one more minute,” he murmured, before his lips found your clit again.

You whined, letting out a pained gasp at the effort to hold back for him. For the man who made you come so many times in your head already.

“Jack… I can’t… please…”

“You’re being so good for me, baby. You can’t take it a little bit longer?”

You gasped and shook your head, as your hips tried to get more friction from his fingers to get you to come.

“Please… Let me come. Please.”

He looked up with a soft smile, while his fingers sped up their pace inside of you. “Of course, beautiful. Come for me.”

His head dove back down, licking you now almost desperately. ‘Fucking hell. Jack Abbot eats pussy like a man starving.’

“Let go. I’ve got you.”

The sheer force of your orgasm made you cry out, as a wave of unstoppable pleasure wrecked your body, making you twitch and your leg tighten on his back, pulling him in closer. Stars exploded in front of your eyes, and you fell back onto the bed. 

He worked you through your orgasm, helping you to come down from your high step by step, easing you back into the moment, before he crawled up your body and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, making you taste yourself on his lips.

“You did so good for me, sunshine. You were perfect,” he murmured before kissing your forehead gently.

When the air found its way back into your lungs you sat up and looked at him. “Do I get to touch you now?”

His smile widened. “I am all yours.”

Now it was your turn to kiss down his chest and over his arms, and you couldn’t stop yourself. You bit his bicep. He hissed but the smirk he gave you showed just how much he enjoyed it.

You worked your way down his body, his hand stroking your neck encouragingly. When you reached the happy trail, your hands took hold of his boxers and pulled them down.

His cock sprung free. Impressive in length and girth. You licked your lips.

“Can I touch it?”, you asked, almost coy.

“You better fucking do,” he groaned. “I am so fucking hard for you.” He wanted to give himself a squeeze to relieve the ache, but you stopped him.

“My turn. Relax,” you murmured and he grinned.

“I might have created a monster.”

“Perhaps. Regretting it already?”

“Fuck no. Please, baby. Please touch my dick.”

You obliged, letting your hand wander up and down the shaft, giving him a firm squeeze, before you licked the length of him.

He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he let himself fall back onto the bed.

You began sucking his cock like you had wanted so many times before. You took him in deep, ignoring the warning your gag reflex gave you. If you would choke on his dick, by God would you make it worth both of your while.

Your hand rubbed what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, as Jack’s hand landed on the top of your head, digging his fingers into your hair, without pushing you, just following your movements up and down.

You moaned around him, letting your tongue swirl around the head of his dick to elicit the sweet sounds of Jack cursing.

“Stop, baby,” he gasped and you recoiled like he had splashed water on you. You looked at him with wide eyes as you tried to catch your breath. “I… Sorry… Did I do something wrong?”

“No… Fuck no. But I’m gonna come if you keep that up and I don’t want to come in your mouth. Not this time, at least.”

Your heart slowed down a little and you let out a breath of relief. “Oh… Yeah, I… Sorry. I… I want you to fuck me too.”

He laughed. “Glad to hear it… Stand up.”

Confusion clouded your face, but you stood. Jack was just behind you as he led you to the tall mirror that was mounted to the wall.

“Put your hands on the frame.” He murmured into your ear, and you complied. “I want to look at you, want you to look at you, at us, when I fuck you. Can you do that for me?”

Your face went deep red. “I…”

“I know you can, baby. Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes!”, you said desperately. Your core was aching to take him in.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Keep your eyes on us.”

He moved behind you, teasing your folds with the head of his dick before slowly pushing in from behind you.

You let out a deep groan, pushing your hips against him to drive him in further, but he kept his hands on your hips to ease in slowly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured into your ear, “and we have all night.”

“Jack Abbot, I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me right now…”

He gave in and pushed into you. The gasp that burst out of your mouth made him grin over your shoulder.

“Almost there…”, he taunted as he let himself slip in another inch.

“Christ…”, you gasped, steeling yourself as he pulled out, and groaned as he pushed in deeper.

He set a steady rhythm, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

You moaned at every thrust, every delicious tightening of his fingers on you.

The feeling of his dick inside you paired with seeing yourself getting fucked by him against the mirror drove you crazy. If this was how you died, you would have no complaints. His eyes were on your body the whole time.

The sound of slapping flesh filled the room, paired with his rough, low voice spurring you on, and your desperate whimpers for more.

When he hissed and shifted his weight, you stopped him. “Jack?”

“Nothing. Stupid leg. I…”, he grit out, a determination to keep going visible in his eyes, but you shifted, so he pulled out.

For a moment, you stood there facing each other, both breathing heavily. “Do you want to stop?”, you offered quietly.

“No. No fucking way. Not when I finally have you.”

You kissed him gently, but he deepened the kiss, letting you feel how hard he still was for you as he pressed his dick against your stomach.

“Lie down on the bed.”, you ordered, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

For a moment he looked like he would protest, but then he complied and let himself sink onto the bed.

“I want to ride you.”

“Fuck. Yes. Come here, sunshine.” He eagerly awaited you, gripping your hips as you lowered yourself onto him.

In this moment you felt no shame, no insecurities, just lust and the overwhelming desire to make Jack come.

You lowered yourself onto him as he gripped your ass in full support of your movements. Your hips rotated against his before you settled into a nice rhythm.

“God, you’re doing so good for me. Just like that,” he groaned as one hand left your ass to play with your clit.

His skilled hand circled you, teasing you in a way that made you wetter than ever before, while his other hand continued to help you bob up and down on his cock.

You felt the intensity of your orgasm building second by second. “Oh…. Oh god…”

“No. Say my name,” he rasped out, his voice rough with want. “I want to hear it when you come.”

Your hips stuttered, your insides so tight that you thought you’d pass out. You leaned back, a hand finding the shaft of his dick, squeezing it additionally to the way he was sinking into your cunt.

He let out a barrage of curses and pants, his face glistening with sweat. “Fuck… I’m so goddamn close.”

You let go, going up and down his cock without anything holding you back, the moans, whines, and cries you kept to yourself for all these months while dreaming of him inside of you finally bursting out.

“Jack!”, you yelled out, throwing your head back as your orgasm tore through you like a tidal wave.

He was right behind you, moaning your name with the reverence of a prayer as he spilled himself into you.

His breath stuttered and his eyes looked at you full of adoration. “This… this was fucking amazing.”

You nodded in agreement, trying to catch your breath as his strong arms tucked you down into his chest. “You did so fucking well for me. You were a vision,” he murmured into your ear.

Reluctantly, you rolled onto your back, letting his softening cock slip out of you, your combined release trickling down your thighs.

Jack pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Just so you know… Tomorrow I am taking you out for a proper date.”

The surprise in your eyes made him laugh. “I want to show you off, sunshine. Now that you’re mine. Finally, mine.”

“Yours,” you mumbled in agreement, before curling into his side, letting him play with your hair.