Page 95 of Shadows of Obsession

"Jax," I whispered, reaching up to cup his face with my free hand. His stubble was rough beneath my palm, and he leaned almost imperceptibly into my touch. "You're not going to mess this up. And you're not betraying her by moving forward."

His eyes closed, a tremor running through him. "How did you—"

"Because I know you," I said softly. "And I know what it's like to be afraid of wanting something—someone—after everything."

When his eyes opened again, they were bright with unshed emotion. His hand came up to cover mine where it rested against his cheek, his fingers wrapping around mine.

"Are you sure?" The question was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything. All his fear, all his hope, all his desperate need for this to be real.

I nodded, my thumb brushing across his cheekbone. "I'm sure."

For a long moment, we just stood there in the hallway, the air between us charged with possibility. Then Jaxon moved, his hand sliding from mine to cup the back of my neck, his fingers threading into my damp hair.

"Say it again," he breathed, his forehead resting against mine.

"I want you," I whispered, my hands finding his bare chest, feeling his heart thundering beneath my palms. "I want this. I wantus."

The last thread of his restraint snapped.

His mouth found mine in a kiss that was different from all the others. Deeper, more urgent, layered with promise and permission and a hunger that had been held at bay for too long. I melted into him, my fingers splaying across the warm expanse of his chest, feeling every defined muscle beneath my touch.

Jaxon's arms banded around me, lifting me effortlessly off my feet. My legs wrapped instinctively around his waist as he carried me back into my bedroom, our lips never breaking contact. The world tilted and spun, but his hold was secure, grounding me even as everything else fell away.

He laid me down on the bed with a gentleness that contradicted the intensity in his eyes, following me down until he was braced aboveme. The towel around my body had loosened in the movement, and his fingers found its edge, hovering there.

"Tell me if you want to stop," he said, his voice gravelly with restrained desire. "At any point, Anna—you tell me, and we stop. Okay?"

The fact that he was still giving me control, still making sure I felt safe even in the midst of this, made my chest ache with something too big to name.

"Okay," I breathed, reaching up to pull him back down to me.

The towel fell away completely as his lips found mine again, slower this time but no less intense. His kisses trailed from my mouth to my jaw, down the column of my throat where my pulse hammered wildly. Each touch of his lips felt like a brand, claiming me and worshipping me in equal measure.

"God, Anna," he murmured against my skin, his breath hot and unsteady. "You're so beautiful."

Heat flooded through me at his words, at the reverence in his tone. My hands roamed across the broad expanse of his shoulders, tracing the defined muscles of his back, learning the landscape of him through touch.

When his mouth found the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder, I gasped, my fingers digging into his skin. He smiled against my throat. I could feel the curve of his lips before continuing his exploration with maddening slowness.

His hands traced patterns on my skin. my sides, my hips, the curve of my waist, each touch deliberate and unhurried, as if he were memorizing every inch of me. When his palm skimmed up my ribcage to cup my breast, I arched into his touch with a gasp that made him groan low in his throat.

"Jax," I breathed, his name emerging as half plea, half prayer.

"I've got you, baby," he promised, lifting his head to capture my gaze. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with desire, but there was tenderness there too.

His thumb brushed across my nipple, and the sensation shot straight through me like lightning. My back arched off the bed, seeking more of his touch, and he obliged, his mouth replacing his hand. Thewet heat of his tongue made me cry out, my fingers threading into his hair to hold him there.

When I tugged at the knot of his towel, he reached down to undo it himself, letting the fabric fall to the floor. I caught a glimpse of him, hard and ready, before he settled back over me, anticipation coiling tight in my belly.

The heat of his bare skin against mine was overwhelming in the best way, sending sparks racing along every nerve ending. I could feel him, thick and heavy, pressed against my thigh, and the realization of what was about to happen made my breath catch.

"Still okay?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

"More than okay," I assured him, pulling him down for another kiss that I hoped conveyed everything I couldn't put into words.

His hand slid down between us, fingers finding the apex of my thighs. I was already wet for him, aching, and when he touched me there, gentle and exploring, I gasped into his mouth.

"So ready for me," he murmured against my lips, his fingers moving in slow, teasing circles that had me trembling beneath him. "Fuck."