Page 49

He lapped at her with his tongue, and she cried out, her back arching off the bed. The sound was way too loud, and she bit down on her knuckle, suddenly terrified of waking Oliver.

They couldn’t stop now. She’d combust if they did.

“Do you think of me when you play with yourself?” he asked, his voice guttural, vibrating against her as he stretched her open with his fingers. “Because I think of you.”

“Yes.”

“Every time?”

“Yes. But this is better.” So much better. Her skin felt too small to contain all the sensations fizzing inside her.

“Yeah, it is.” He worked her until the only sound in the room was the slick slide of his fingers pumping in and out of her, then he bent his head and licked her again, relentlessly circling her clit with his tongue. A full-body tremor went through her.

“Yes,” he growled against her and settled deeper between her thighs. “I want you to remember this every time you close your eyes. Remember how you surrendered to me, how you let me worship you.”

The dirty words sent a shockwave through her, and she bucked up, clutching at his head as he sucked her clit between his lips. The sensation shattered her; her world telescoped down to the slick, obscene glide of his tongue and the filthy encouragement pouring out of him.

“That’s it, sweetness,” he rasped, coming up for air, his face glistening with her juices. “So damn greedy for me, grinding this pretty pussy on my face.”

She tugged at his hair, pulling him up to kiss her, and tasted herself on his mouth.

That was new, and she reveled in it, licking into him and scraping her nails down his back until he hissed.

He was shaking, actually shaking, and it made her feel powerful, dangerous, like she could break him if she wanted.

But she didn’t want to break him.

She wanted to put him back together.

She tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth and snaked a hand down to cup his erection through his jeans. “Take these off. Now.”

“You want my cock, sweetness?” He pushed up off the bed, hands trembling on the button and zipper of his jeans, his eyes never leaving her body.

He shoved his jeans and boxers down in one furious motion.

The thick length of him sprang out, curving up against his stomach, and for a second, all she could do was stare.

“Yes, I do.” She reached for him, wrapped her hand around the base, and watched his face collapse with need.

She stroked him once, slow, and the sound he made—half groan, half growl—was intoxicating.

She was high on it, drunk on the control as his hips jerked with each stroke and precum beaded at his tip.

She caught the droplet on her finger and lifted it to her mouth, tasting him.

He lunged for her, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Condom.”

“Fuck.” He instantly straightened away from her. “I don’t have any. I wasn’t planning…” He dragged his hands through his hair. “Fuck,” he said again with feeling.

He looked so dejected, she couldn’t help but laugh. “I have some. Top drawer.” She pointed to her nightstand. “Left side. I bought them after that night you made me come so hard with just your voice.”

He quirked a brow at her. “Optimistic?”

“Hopeful,” she corrected, and then, since his cock was right there in her face, she closed her lips around him.

His legs wobbled, and he had to catch himself on the headboard. “Oh, fuck, Nessie. You keep doing that, we won’t need a condom for this round.”

As tempting as it was to suck him until he lost all control, it would have to wait. She’d spent too many restless nights recently dreaming of the moment he thrust inside her. She circled her tongue over his thick head one final time, then released him.

He all but dove for the nightstand, and the sound of the foil tearing seemed impossibly loud in the quiet room. She watched him roll the condom on, mesmerized by the way his hands moved, the way his muscles tensed and flexed.

Then he climbed onto the bed and settled a knee between her thighs. She could feel the blunt head of him pressing against her entrance, but he didn’t make a move to push inside.

Instead, he leaned down and framed her face in his hands, kissing her with so much tenderness that tears sprang to her eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked against her mouth.

How could this man talk so filthy one moment and be so sweet the next?

Instead of answering with words, she lifted her hips. He didn’t slide in slowly. He pushed, hard and full, and for a moment she thought she’d break.

God, he was thick. The stretch lit her up, made her toes curl. He filled her in a way that was almost overwhelming, almost too much, but he held her gaze, never looked away, even when she gasped and dug her nails into his back.

“Fuck,” he rasped, his forehead dropping to rest against hers. A tremble went through him. “You’re so fucking perfect. So tight. I’m going to ruin you for anyone else. I want to be the only cock you ever think about.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and the friction made stars explode behind her eyelids.

“Move,” she demanded. “Please, Jax, I need you to move.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. He pulled back almost completely before slamming into her, and the force of it sent little bursts of fire skittering over all of her nerve endings.

He fucked her like he was trying to erase every awful thing that had ever happened to either of them and captured her mouth in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, swallowing her moans as he drove into her harder, faster.

The bed frame creaked under them, and she was climbing again, her body coiling tight, desperate for release.

“That’s it. Take it for me. Take every fucking inch. You feel how wet you are? You’re making a mess of me, Nessie. You gonna come on my cock like a good girl, or do I need to make you beg for it?”

She whimpered, but he had already slid his hand between their bodies, fingers finding her clit, pinching it just this side of too hard. It sent her reeling, body arching up into him, the pressure building, building… and then she was flying apart, shattering around the unyielding length of him.

“That’s it, sweetness. Milk my cock. Fuck, you’re so tight, I can’t—” He bucked into her, grinding their pelvises together, until she came again, this time so violently her legs cramped and she sobbed against his shoulder.

She felt every pulse and twitch of him, every obscene, perfect glide of his cock inside her.

He fucked her through her release, didn’t stop even when she tried to twist away, overwhelmed and raw.

“Stay with me,” he growled and scooped her legs over his shoulders. He straightened onto his knees, gripping her thighs, holding her open for each thrust. He pounded into her so deep she couldn’t get enough air. But she didn’t need to breathe. All she needed was to feel him everywhere, forever.

“Jax…” His name was little more than a whimper.

“You’re not done yet. You’re gonna come around me again.” He slowed his pace, his cock dragging against every hot, swollen nerve.

“I could live inside you.” He stared down at where they were joined, watching himself glide in and out of her body with hooded eyes. “Never want to leave.”

“More.” She arched into him, desperate for more, and he gave it to her, slamming in so hard again that air whooshed from her lungs.

“Yeah, you like being ruined by me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she gasped, and then it was nothing but sensation, all heat and desperate want. When she broke again, it was with a strangled cry he silenced with his mouth. He swallowed her scream and poured himself out inside her, hips jerking as he gave up every last bit of control.

He finally collapsed on top of her, crushing her in the best way.

Neither of them moved for a long time; his cock still inside her, softening, their sweat mixing where their skin touched.

She wanted to stay tangled up in him forever, to feel his weight pinning her to the mattress until every last memory of Alek was crushed out of existence.

He nuzzled her neck, his breath hot against her ear. “You have no idea what you just did to me.”

She did. She could feel it in the way he was still shuddering on top of her. She shook with the aftershocks, too. “I think you ruined me.”

“Promised you I would.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then rolled to his side, pulling off the condom.

He discarded it and cleaned up with the towel she’d used that morning, then came back to the bed and dragged her onto his chest. The room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing gradually returning to normal.

“Never thought I’d get this again,” he whispered and smoothed a hand reverently over her hair. “Someone who’d let me touch them like this. Someone who’d want me to.”

Her eyes burned. He was so vulnerable, so broken, and still trying so hard to put himself back together.

She cupped his face in her hands, stroking her thumbs over his cheekbones. “Well, I want you, Jaxon Thorne. All of you. The broken parts and the beautiful parts.”

He winced. “There aren’t very many beautiful parts.”

“You’re wrong.” She sat up and straddled him, leaning down until her hair curtained them in. She brushed her lips over his. “You just don’t see them yet.”

But she did.

Every damn one.

And, she promised herself, she’d make sure he saw them, too.