Page 81 of Shadows of Obsession
Without letting myself overthink it, I shifted slightly forward on the coffee table. Jaxon's gaze tracked the movement, confusion flickering across his face as I stood. For a moment, I hesitated, my heart hammering against my ribs. I knew this was a crossing of a line, a point of no return.
But looking at him, the pain and exhaustion carved into his face, the fists still clenched at his sides, I knew I didn't want to go back. I wanted to move forward. With him.
I took a small step closer, positioning myself between his spread knees. Jaxon's breath caught, his eyes widening as understanding dawned about what I was doing. His hands lifted from his sides, hovering near my hips, uncertain, ready to catch me if I changed my mind.
"Anna…" His voice was rough, questioning, almost disbelieving.
Instead of answering, I placed my hands on his shoulders for balance. The solid warmth of him radiated beneath my palms, his muscles tensing under my touch. Slowly, giving him every chance to stop me, I lifted one knee and placed it on the couch beside his hip.
Jaxon's hands finally made contact, his fingers curling lightly around my waist as if to steady me—or himself. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and the heat of his palms seared through the thin fabric of my sundress.
Emboldened, I brought my other knee up, carefully straddling his lap. The movement brought us impossibly close, my thighs bracketing his hips, my body hovering just above his. I could feel the heat radiating from him, smell the mix of soap, cedar, and something uniquely him. The intimacy of the position was overwhelming.
Jaxon's fingers tightened on my waist, guiding me down until I settled fully in his lap. The sensation of being this close, the solid strength of his thighs beneath me, made my breath catch. My hands slid up from his shoulders, tracing the hard lines of muscle that flexed beneath my touch.
His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide as he looked up at me. One hand left my waist to brush a strand of hair from my face, the gesture so tender it made my chest ache.
"You don't have to—" he began, but I cut him off, my fingers sliding into the short hair at the nape of his neck.
"I know," I whispered. I felt the subtle hitch of his breath at my touch. "I want to."
Jaxon's tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, a nervous gesture I'd never seen from him before. Then he tugged me closer until our foreheads rested together, our rapid breaths mingling in the scant space between us. The intimacy of it was dizzying. I could feel his heartbeat pounding against mine, wild and steady all at once.
His gaze searched mine with an intensity that stole what little breath I had left, silently asking—no, pleading—for reassurance that this was what I wanted. His warm palms cradled my face with a tenderness that clashed beautifully with his strength, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks in a touch so soft it made my eyes sting.
"Anna…" The rumble of my name was rough, gravelly with emotion and desperate uncertainty. "Tell me to stop."
His eyes closed briefly, as if wrestling with himself. When they opened again, that searing blue locked onto mine, and I saw the strain it took for him to say those words, the tremor of restraint in his grip. He was giving me a choice, even now, even wanting this as badly as I could feel he did.
In answer, I shook my head, barely moving, my fingers tightening in the short strands at his nape as I drew him closer.
"Jax…" I breathed his name like a prayer, pouring every ounce of reassurance and longing into that single syllable.
Something in his expression cracked. The last remnants of his restraint shattered, and I saw it happen, the moment he surrendered to everything that had been simmering between us all this time.
His hands slid with aching tenderness from my jaw down the slender curve of my neck until they framed my face again. He leaned in, his lips a whisper from mine, and paused for one trembling heartbeat.
But when he saw only certainty reflected in my eyes—certainty, and want, and maybe even need—he closed the scant distance between us.
The first touch of his lips against mine was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were savoring something he'd only ever dreamed about. Testing, exploring, allowing himself to experience the reality after weeks of holding back. The unexpected sweetness of his lips, softer than I'd imagined, made the kiss careful, like he was afraid I might break. His thumbs stroked my flushed cheeks in wordless reassurance, and I felt myself melt into him, a trembling sigh escaping against his mouth.
That sound, that small surrender, seemed to shatter whatever lingering hesitation remained. Jaxon's kiss deepened, his mouth moving over mine with growing confidence. A breathless whimper slipped free from my parted lips as my fingers tightened almost painfully in the short strands at his nape, silently urging him closer. More.
What had begun as slow and exploratory quickly built into something unstoppable. The electricity that had been arcing betweenus for weeks ignited into a wildfire. Jaxon's hands slid from my face to my hips, his grip firm, almost desperate, as he pulled me flush against the rigid planes of his body, erasing every inch of distance between us.
I could feel the hard muscle of his chest pressed to mine, could feel the ragged pull of his breath, could feel everything. His mouth slanted over mine with searing intensity. Every molten brush of our lips and graze of our tongues released all the tension and turmoil that had been building. Not just from tonight with Jared, but from every moment of denial and restraint before it.
I met his ardor with equal fervor, unable and unwilling, to resist the magnetic pull any longer. My fingers traced scorching paths down the taut lines of his neck, over the flexing muscles of his shoulders and chest, finally splaying across the hard planes of his abdomen. His muscles contracted beneath my touch, heat radiating through the thin fabric of his shirt.
Every caress, every feather-light stroke drew us closer, dissolving the last illusion of distance between us. His taste, his scent, the feel of him surrounding me, it was overwhelming in the best possible way.
When our lips finally parted on matching gasps, we were both left breathless and reeling. Jaxon's eyes fluttered open, revealing heavy-lidded depths of blue glazed with unguarded wonder. A faint, almost giddy smile toyed with the corners of his mouth as he looked at me, at my equally dazed expression, my tousled hair, my kiss-swollen lips. The look in his eyes told me he viewed me as something precious.
Tenderly, he brushed his lips across my brow, my temples, the tips of my fluttering lashes. Gentle, reverent kisses that felt like promises. Then he reclaimed my mouth in a slower, deeper kiss that left us both clinging to each other, my fingers fisted in his shirt, his arms wound tight around my waist.
This kiss was different, less desperate, more deliberate. Like he was memorizing the taste of me, the feel of me, committing every sensation to memory.
When we broke apart this time, I couldn't help myself. I pressed a trail of butterfly-soft kisses along the sharp line of his stubbled jaw, feeling the roughness scrape lightly against my lips, breathing him in. I continued down the strong column of his throat, feeling his pulse race beneath my mouth.