Page 22

F or once I fell asleep easily and my dreams were just dreams, and not the nightmares that usually find me in my sleep. This dream in particular was a welcomed change, more like a memory, of Jax and I before. I try to hold onto the image of me on top of him, as I slowly open my eyes, allowing them to adjust to the dark room. The sky outside is gray, as if the sunrise is struggling to take a hold of the sky.

I turn my attention to Jax, admiring the peace that finds him in his sleep, and the way his body looks laying next to me. I wonder how I got so lucky, what I did to deserve someone like him, and I think maybe that’s why I’m so afraid of this not working out, because at my lowest moments I truly feel undeserving of him; of his ability to meet my needs, of his unwavering patience and understanding, of his god-like body that knows exactly what spots will elicit the loudest moans from me. I reach for him, letting my hand run slowly over his broad frame, over the scars that decorate his skin and the tattoos that tell the story of his life. I let my fingers trace over his hardened muscles, until they’re following the V towards a part of him that I long for.

“When I die, love,”—I jump at the sound of his voice, still groggy with sleep—“make sure I end in a place where I wake up to this every morning.”

I smile, but my gaze doesn’t leave his body, doesn’t move from his considerable length that is now hardening from my touch. I stroke him slowly, my hands moving over every velvety inch of him, my touch firm yet gentle. Watching him, feeling him, as he becomes more and more roused from my movements causes a fire to stir deep within me. He groans as I bring my lips to him, kissing and licking him, moving at a tantalizingly slow pace.

“Love,” he pleads, and I smile at how easily I can have him begging for more, how quickly he unravels under my touch.

I lick him from the base to the tip, slowly, my eyes finding his, watching his every reaction. His breathing increases as I lick the most sensitive spots, as I swirl my tongue around his tip, before bringing him into my mouth. I love the taste of him, the arousal that’s already on him, as I move just how he likes it, my head bobbing up and down as I try to fit more and more of him in my mouth each time. Fitting him all in my mouth feels like an impossible task, the sheer size of him making me focus to accommodate him. But I don’t stop, not as he runs his hands through my hair, taking a hold of it, guiding me down further; not as he bucks his hips as my tongue works him up and down; not as he hits the back of my throat, and I swallow my gag, trying even harder to adjust to him.

“Good girl.” He moans, and his eyes close as if relishing the feeling of everything I’m doing. I keep going for another few seconds, keep going until I decide exactly what I want next. Exactly what I’m ready for.

His eyes open as my mouth leaves his cock, leaving him coated in my saliva and wanting more.

He gives me a questioning look, as if to say, keep going. But all I do is smile at him, before I straddle his waist.

“Love.” A question and a statement, and I hear the unsaid words in his tone.

“I want this, I’m ready for this. So, if you’re willing to have sex with me, then can we—”

My words are interrupted by his sudden movement as he brings himself up so we’re face to face, me straddling his lap as he pulls me in close enough that our foreheads are touching.

“Remind me to make it even more obvious how badly I want you, so you never have to question how willing I am to fulfill your every desire.”

I feel my body soften into him at his words, as his lips find mine, his tongue claiming me as his. I feel his hardness pressing between my legs as I unashamedly move back and forth in his lap, trying to get friction, as heat gathers in my core.

He smiles as we kiss, before moving to grab a hold of himself, teasing me as he moves himself back and forth across me, nudging himself against my core ever so slightly, until I’m writhing on top of him, desperate for him to fill me, to soothe the ache of desire between my legs.

“Always so impatient for me,” he purrs.

I don’t answer him, instead bringing my lips to his, giving myself fully to the intensity of our kiss. He moves his hand from himself, instead using it to grab the back of my neck, pulling me even closer to him. I trail my hand down his body until I’m able to grab him firmly, holding him steady as I sink onto him, filling myself with him inch by delicious inch. I’ll never get used to this, get used to him, and how complete I feel with him between my legs. After having him nothing can compare, and it’s as if he was made for me, the way he stretches and fills me until I don’t think I can take any more, the pleasure mixed with a bite of discomfort as I let him seat himself fully within me.

We stay like this for a moment, no motion between us as he lets me adjust to his girth, his lips worshipping my body, his tongue on my nipples, my neck, my mouth.

“You’re in control,” he says, his voice strained with desire. “Take as long as you need and move when you’re ready. I won’t do anything until you do.”

I blush at the intensity of his words, at the intensity of his gaze as it meets my stare before trailing over every part of my body, as if planning on exactly how he’ll make me unravel beneath his touch.

“As you wish, Mr. Turner,” I say, my voice a mix of want and need, of desire and pleasure.

I move slowly, relishing the feel as he slides out of me slowly, before sinking back down on him. I keep my eyes and my thoughts on him. My heart is beating quickly as the euphoria in my veins pulses through me. I grip onto his muscled shoulders, stabilizing myself as I move faster. He grabs onto my hips, helping me move, following my lead as I slam back down onto him again, my pace unrelenting, my need for him uncontainable. His mouth finds mine again, and I welcome his tongue with mine, letting out a small shriek as he bites at me playfully.

My shriek is quickly replaced by a moan as his thumb finds its way to my clit, the friction causing me to arch back as pleasure builds within me. It builds, and builds, and builds, until he brings me over the edge, my orgasm crashing into me with a force I can’t describe, as incomprehensible words tumble from my lips.

He kisses me gently as I come back down, as I sink into him once again, breathless and satiated from all he’s giving me.

“That was…” I trail off, my face pressing into his chest as I try to catch my breath.

“I love feeling the way your pussy clenches around me when you come,” he says, his voice thick with desire as he continues to move in and out of me, his pace excruciatingly slow.

His hands continue to guide my hips, rocking me back and forth, up, and down, as he kisses me slowly, lazily, his eyes devouring my every move.

“I can’t decide,” he says, his voice sounding strained as he tries to control his thrusts, tries to form coherent sentences, “if I want to come inside of you, filling you up until I’m dripping down your perfect thighs”—his hands brush over my legs—“or if I should come in your mouth so you can taste every drop of me.”

I moan as he hits the right spot again, the sensation causing pleasure to build once more, “I—I want you inside of me. I want you to come inside of me,” I say between ragged breaths.

Flames of desire dance in his eyes, as he strokes my body with his hands, my body now damp as a light sweat covers my skin.

“Then make me come,” he drawls, a hint of playfulness in his voice as he reclines back, his hands never straying from my hips and his eyes never leaving mine.

I plant my hands on his chest, and my hips never stop moving as I chase the release, the one I feel building within him and building within myself once again. I lean back, closing my eyes as I relish in the euphoria that builds within us and hang on to the feeling of him moving inside me.

Jax sits up slowly before repositioning me underneath him in one swift movement, and I don’t even have time to process what has happened before he’s whispering in my ear. “Eyes open, remember, love?”

I roll my eyes in response and wrap my legs around his waist as he starts thrusting into me. My body is melting and burning all at once, the sensation of him, of me, of us, too much for me to comprehend. Just when I think I can’t take any more, when the pleasure feels like it has built to an intolerable level, he takes my nipple into his mouth as his fingers find my clit once again, and I come with his name on my lips and my nails digging into his back.

*

When I open my eyes again the room is bright, the sun having fully risen, no sign of dawn left in the sky. Jax is beside me, resting, his eyes awake and already finding mine.

“Morning, love.”

“Morning, Mr. Turner,” I say in response as he pulls me closer into him.

For a minute this morning feels like a dream, memories of his hands, tongue, lips, and cock swirling around my head. The pleasure I feel when we’re together, the desire and need only he can pull out of me, feels impossibly good, as though it belongs in dreams and not reality. I look to Jax, and the satisfied look on his face confirms I was in fact not dreaming.

“That was—” I start, unsure of how to express exactly what I feel about what we did. About the fact that we had sex for the first time since, well, since then , and it went well. Better than well.

“Incredible,” Jax cuts me off. “You are incredible.”

He somehow manages to pull me even closer to him and I close my eyes as he kisses me tenderly, lovingly.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel…” How do I feel? I take a deep breath, trying to make sense of what I feel, the mix of emotions and physical sensations hard to put into words. “I feel… good. Better than good, thanks to you,” I say with a lazy smile. “And I’m feeling okay about well, having sex, for the first time since.” I gesture vaguely.

“I think you’re incredibly brave.” He kisses my forehead before slowly easing off of the bed. I soak him in, in all his naked glory, as he walks towards the bathroom.

“Give me a few and I’ll have a bath ready for you. And then”—he looks back over his shoulder—“we’ll spend the rest of the day doing exactly what we did this morning.”

*

Not long later I’m stepping into the tub, the lavender bubbles lapping at my skin as I slowly submerge myself into the warm water. There’s a slight ache between my legs, and I let the warmth of the bath lull me as I start to relax even more, struggling to stay awake after feeling thoroughly spent thanks to Jax. I close my eyes as I let the sounds of the running water and the floral scent float through the room.

Jax.

I have never felt so thoroughly satiated as when I’m with him, never felt so completely worshipped and adored as when his body is on mine, and never so seen as when I am with him. I mull his words over as I pick up a loofah, running it over my skin so the bath oils and bubbles are massaged into me. Brave. It felt easier to believe when he said it, but I guess what I’m doing is brave, trying to get back to the old me, trying to get back to the old us.

Where was your bravery when Tanner was involved?

The thought hits me like a blow, disappearing as quickly as it came. I wasn’t brave with Tanner, I didn’t even try to be brave with him.

I keep washing myself, scrubbing my arms and legs, as I try to ignore the thoughts, the reality, that’s resurfacing inside of me.

I should have been brave instead. I should have done something, anything, instead of just giving up, instead of staring at the door, hoping someone would rescue me, unable to save myself.

I try to ignore my thoughts, try to focus on what I did , try to focus on Jax’s words, on his touch, on the way he makes my body come alive. But I can’t. Each time I think of his hands roaming over my body I feel Tanner. Each time I think about the way Jax’s mouth makes me come alive, I can hear Tanner’s breath in my ear, his words leaving invisible scars in their wake.

I keep scrubbing, keep rubbing my skin until it feels raw, until I’m more focused on what I’m actually feeling than what men have made me feel, good or bad.

I only stop when I hear the click of the door a second before Jax walks back into the bathroom, a lazy smile on his face and a towel in his hand.

“Straight from the dryer.” He holds up the towel by way of explanation.

I give him a small smile and thank him while quickly trying to lock down everything I’m feeling, and everything that I’m hearing and seeing in my head, and only then do I stand from the tub, and let him wrap me in the towel.

It feels like heaven, being wrapped in something so warm, and I try to let everything melt away, only focusing on this feeling overwhelming my body in the best way possible.

As we walk out of the bathroom and into the bright room, I hear Jax’s footsteps stop behind me.

I turn, only to see his eyes sweeping the parts of my body not covered by the towel. I follow his gaze, looking at my skin, now red and angry from the vigorous scrubbing.

“Shit, love, I didn’t think I put the water so hot—”

“No, no, it was lovely. Promise.” I try to reassure him, unable to stomach the worry on his face. “I just got carried away washing myself is all. I was lost in my own thoughts and didn’t realize I was scrubbing myself for so long.” I give him the most convincing smile I can muster.

He looks as though he’s going to say something more, but stops himself, accepting my lie even if he doesn’t look like he fully believes me. He simply walks up to me, kissing me gently on the forehead.

“I’m here to listen, love. The good, the bad, the ugly, you can talk to me about it all.”

I don’t say anything in response to him, unable to bear the idea of lying any more than I already have. Instead, I lean into his touch, lean into his words, and let him lead me back to bed, ready for a day of doing nothing except lying beside him.