Page 52 of A Little Crush (The Little Things #6)

RORY

LET’S GO TO THE BEDROOM.

H is words play through my mind like a carousel, over and over again, as I force my body to move.

To comply. My legs feel like wet noodles, but I climb off his lap, heading toward his room while attempting to stay in reality when a not-so-small part of me is convinced I’m fantasizing the whole thing.

I can feel Jaxon’s stare as he follows behind me, and with a single step over the threshold, I find myself in his arms. His kisses are soft.

Gentle. As they make their way from the corner of my mouth, along my jaw, and down my neck, while his erection presses against my stomach.

He’s as hard as before, and I press my legs together, grateful for the distraction.

The reminder of why we’re here and how much I want this. How much I want him.

Keeping his hands on my waist, Jaxon closes the door with his foot, locking Hades out of the room in case he gets a little too curious about what’s about to go down.

Satisfied my dog won’t interrupt, Jax guides me until his bed hits the backs of my thighs and he lowers me down.

It’s soft. The mattress. And the comforter smells like him, just like the other night.

I close my eyes, fighting the nerves of what exactly I agreed to in the kitchen now that I’m here.

On Jaxon Thorne’s bed. Because yeah, I might be one hundred percent positive I’d rather be here than anywhere else in the world, but it doesn’t make losing my virginity any less scary.

It’s finally going to happen, and with the only person I’ve ever wanted it to happen with. Seriously, how is this my life? Surreal doesn’t even begin to cover the cacophony of emotions ripping through me.

His hands find my white blouse, and he pushes it up, exposing my stomach before scattering kisses between my breasts.

Shifting to his left, he blows on the lacy bra, then tugs on the cup, revealing me completely.

My heart pounds faster at the contact, and I squeeze my eyes shut, savoring the feel of his mouth on my skin.

“Fuck, Rore.” His breath is hot as he kisses my nipple. “Fucking perfect.” Shifting to my opposite breast, he does the same. Only this time, he opens his mouth and sucks me softly, his hands dipping lower and undoing the top button of my jeans.

Anticipation flutters through me, and I try to steady my breathing.

But this is Jaxon. The Jaxon. The man I’ve dreamed about since…

forever. I lift my hips to accommodate his exploration, and he takes full advantage, tugging the rough denim down my legs before hooking his fingers in my underwear and tossing them aside until I’m left bare.

With another heave of his chest, he stares down at me on his bed, taking in every inch as if realizing the same thing.

That the woman beneath him is me. Rory. And the connection?

The pull? It’s strong enough to take my breath away.

He shakes his head gently, as if snapping himself out of his revelation, then rifles in his nightstand before retrieving a condom.

Setting it on the edge of the bed, he comes back and kneels on the ground, placing his line of sight right between my bare thighs.

Now, it’s not like I’m not a fan of oral.

Trust me. Jaxon’s a God with his mouth. But we had an agreement, dammit!

“Jax,” I beg. “You said?—”

“This is only the appetizer, Beautiful.” He grabs my legs and tosses them over his shoulders before grabbing my hips and tugging me to the edge of the bed. And sure, it’s kind of hot, but also, he’s two inches from my freaking vagina! What if?—

His mouth connects with my core, and my body arches off the mattress.

Ooookay, then. Insecurities. Gone.

And when his tongue laps at my center, I know I’m done for.

The heat and gentle pressure is the perfect combination.

Or maybe it’s the edging he’s been putting me through since I was on my knees in the kitchen.

Then again, I’m not sure it matters. All I know is it’s only been thirty seconds, and I’m already close to coming.

“Jaxon,” I whimper. “Jaxon, I need?—”

He slips his finger inside of me, and my jaw drops. I grip the comforter by my sides, shaking my head back and forth because I’m seriously going to fall apart before we’ve even had sex if he keeps crooking his finger like that while circling my clit with the tip of his tongue.

Or is that what he wants?

To make me come with his mouth so I don’t make him follow through with his promise to take my virginity tonight?

My brows dip as the hazy thought slips past my desperation to come.

“You know,” I breathe out, trying to stay focused no matter how impossible it feels when he’s kissing my core like this. “You can make me come a dozen times tonight, and I’ll still want you to have sex with me, Jaxon Thorne. ”

He groans his appreciation but doesn’t let up, sucking on my folds before spreading me wider with his free hand.

“Not gonna let you off the hook,” I add as my eyes roll back in my head and my muscles clench with anticipation.

I’m close. So freaking close I can almost taste it.

“Jax,” I whimper. “Jax, you have no idea?—”

He pulls away, blowing on my clit and stopping me from coming at the last possible second. The shift and lack of completion hits like a freight train, and I lift my head to glare down at him.

“Seriously?” I cry.

Honestly, I can’t decide if I want to smack him upside the head or slam my thighs against his ears so he has no choice but to let me finish if he ever wants to breathe again. Actually, that sounds pretty nice right now.

“Trust me,” Jax murmurs, interrupting my plans to smother him with my pussy as he reaches for the condom and rips the foil with his teeth, sliding the rubber onto his erection.

Interest piqued, I wait with bated breath. Because this is it. Me and him. Just like I always hoped.

Climbing on top of me, he leverages his weight to one side as his hand dips between our bodies, causing goosebumps along every inch of me.

How? How is he so different? It doesn’t make sense, but I’m also so tired of questioning it.

Why it’s always only ever been him . Lining himself with my entrance, he rubs the head of his cock up and down my slit as I tangle my fingers in his hair so I can savor the closeness while also trying not to freak out over what’s about to happen.

Because yeah, I’m definitely turned on, but I’m a little terrified, too.

“I’ll be gentle,” he promises.

His words are like a balm, and I stare up at him. The flecks of olive in his eyes. The five o’clock shadow along his jaw. The adoration shining down on me. And suddenly, the fear evaporates. Because he’ll be gentle. He said so himself. So, what is there to fear?

“I know you will,” I whisper, and I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.

This. This is why it’s always been Jax. Because when life gets scary. When life feels like it’s too much. He’s the one person I can count on. To put me first. To look out for me. To make me feel seen and heard and understood.

It’s always been him.

Achingly slow, Jaxon nudges the head of his erection against my entrance, driving me insane with every minor stretch before pulling out and playing with my clit.

He does it again. Pushing himself another sliver deeper then retreating.

He’s teasing me. Preparing me. And when I’m pretty sure I’m going to go crazy if he doesn’t make me come, he thrusts in fully, seating himself inside my body.

And then it makes sense. Why he was prepping my body.

Making sure I was wet and ready and needy and desperate.

Because that? Yeah, that hurt like a bitch.

And it doesn’t matter how turned on I am, the sharp burn is still enough to make my lungs freeze and my jaw drop.

“I know, Beautiful.” He kisses my cheeks and mouth.

Every inch of my face while I try to catch my breath at the not-so-little intrusion ripping me in two.

“I know.” Keeping most of his weight propped on his forearm, he waits for my body to adjust, barely moving a muscle until slowly, it doesn’t feel like I’m being ripped to shreds, and I can even wiggle my hips beneath him.

Yeah, it’s still tight, but the initial sting of his intrusion is gone. Now, all I feel is…full.

“Hey,” he rasps. Pushing my hair away from my forehead, he stares down at me, a question shining in his pretty eyes, though he doesn’t voice it aloud. Then again, he doesn’t need to. I know what he’s asking. What he wants to know. It only confirms my earlier conclusion.

It was always him.

“I’m okay,” I promise.

His brows furrow even more. “You sure?”

I nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. You can move again.”

I can see his reservation. The wrinkled forehead.

The twinge in his jaw. But he gives in, drawing circles against my clit with his hand still wedged between us as he slowly pulls out a few inches before gently pushing back inside.

The same pleasurable pressure begins building where we’re connected, and I wrap my legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts instead of waiting for them like before.

And when he picks up his pace, hitting a spot deep inside of me, I swear I can see stars.

“Yes,” I whimper. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Skin tight, body hot, clit pulsing, I reach the same edge I’ve teetered on all night.

But instead of staying out of reach, I finally tumble over it and free fall.

The world spins into oblivion as I come, squeezing him tight as wave after wave of toe-curling pleasure rolls from my core out to my limbs.

He follows after, his cock jerking inside of me before the full weight of his body pins me to the mattress.

“Fuck, Rory,” he rasps against the shell of my ear. “You have no idea how good you feel. Like you’re made for me.”

And honestly? A not-so-small part of me is starting to wonder if I really am. Because if I’ve learned anything over the years? It’s that he sure as hell was made for me. Of that, I have zero doubt.

“Let me clean you up,” he decides. The mattress dips as he climbs off me, disposes of the condom, and retrieves a warm towel from the bathroom. Without a word, he starts to spread my legs so he can clean me up, but I swat him away and reach for the cloth .

“I can do it?—”

“I want to?—”

“Yeah, but they’re my lady bits.” I cross my legs and give him a shy look, hating the way heat floods my face at the prospect of him wiping me clean and seeing all I have going on down there now that our sex drives have settled down.

With a smirk, he folds his arms but keeps the warm, damp towel out of reach. “You’re really gonna come between me and my new favorite lady bits? We’re good friends. Washing them up is the least I can do to make them feel better.”

I quirk my brow, refusing to give in no matter how cute he is when he’s playful. “Seriously?”

“What? You don’t feel closer to my cock after sucking me off in the kitchen?” he challenges.

“Jaxon!” I squeal.

He kneels on the bed and cups both my thighs. “Let me take care of you.”

This time, I let him.

The warmth of the towel feels like heaven as he takes care of me, cleaning me up and making sure I’m okay.

It shouldn’t surprise me. How sweet and considerate he’s being.

After all, he’s Jaxon Thorne. The man’s been kissing my boo-boos and Band-Aiding my ouchies since before I could walk.

Even so, it never ceases to amaze me. How thoughtful and caring he is.

Once he’s finished, he tosses the towel into the hamper, then collapses next to me on the bed.

“There.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you for giving in.”

His attention bounces around my face as if I somehow hold all the answers to his many questions and deepest thoughts, though I have no idea what they are. “Pretty sure I’ll never be able to say no to you, Beautiful.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

He pauses, then shakes his head. “Fuck, I hope not.” Laying down, he tugs me into his side, and I melt against him. “Do you want to stay with me tonight?” he asks.

The question catches me off guard. We’ve had plenty of sleepovers, but we’ve also always had Poppy’s presence as an excuse. Since she’s staying at her grandparents’ house tonight, there’s no need for me to be here in the morning. Not really. “Do you want me to stay?”

“I did just ask,” he counters.

“You know what I mean, Jax.” I roll my eyes, fighting the urge to smack his chest. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to ask me to sleep over just because we had sex.”

“I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t want you here. I promise.”

My eyes burn, and a lump clogs my throat, though I refuse to let him witness my body’s response. Because, whoa, girl. Take a chill pill. He asked you to sleep over, not to marry him.

I hesitate, trying to reel in my stupid emotions before nodding against his warm chest. “I believe you.”

“Good. Now, let me ask you again. Will you stay with me tonight?”

Fighting my giddiness—because seriously, how is this my life—I drag my fingers against his bare skin. “I’d love to.”