Page 98 of Shadows of Obsession

Jaxon closed his eyes, his head tilting back slightly as he let out a low sigh that sounded almost like a prayer, a heady mix of contentment and longing. I made him feel like this. The power I felt at that thought was exhilarating.

The room was quiet, save for the distant chirping of birds outside the window and the faint rustling of cotton sheets against our entwined bodies. The intimacy of the moment made everything else fade into the background, leaving only the warmth and the soul-deep connection thrumming between us.

His breathing deepened as I continued my trail of kisses across his chest, his body relaxing into the embrace as if surrendering completely to my touch. The trust in that surrender made my chest ache with emotion too big to name.

I drew in a deep breath, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his skin, something uniquely him, mixed now with the faint musk of sexand sleep. The combination was addictive, and I wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever.

In one fluid motion, Jaxon's hand caught both my wrists. Before I could process it, he maneuvered me beneath him in a single controlled move that made me gasp.

He pressed me into the yielding softness of the mattress, pinning my hands above my head with one large hand. His strength was casual, restrained but undeniable. The position left me vulnerable, exposed, but I trusted him completely.

The coolness of the sheets contrasted deliciously with the scorching heat of his body as he settled over me, his weight supported on one elbow so he wasn't crushing me but still close enough that I could feel every hard plane of muscle.

His other hand slipped beneath the thin fabric of his shirt I wore, his fingers tracing deliberate, tantalizing paths along the smooth, sensitive skin of my stomach. Each feather-light stroke sent shivers down my spine and made my breath come faster.

"Jax," I breathed, my voice emerging embarrassingly needy.

His fingers trailed higher, skimming just beneath my breast, close enough to make me arch into his touch but not close enough to satisfy. A breathy moan escaped my lips as liquid heat pooled low in my belly, the provocative mix of anticipation and desire making my head spin.

He was teasing me. The bastard was teasing me.

"Enough for now," Jaxon whispered huskily against the shell of my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin and sending a thrill of want lancing straight to my core.

Now? What about—

He punctuated his words with gentle nibbles along the column of my neck, marking the tender skin with the barest hint of teeth. Each scrape sent electricity racing through me, and I squirmed beneath him, seeking friction—seeking more.

"I'll go make you breakfast."

Wait, what?

As swiftly as his captivating presence had enveloped me, it vanished. He released my wrists and rolled away, leaving me dazed and bereft in the suddenly cool sheets.

I lay there for a long moment, stunned, my body still humming with arousal, the remnants of our closeness clinging to me like a dense, honeyed fog. It wasn't until my mind began to clear that I noticed Jaxon's retreating figure.

The lean muscles of his back flexed enticingly with each confident step down the hallway, his form clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs that lovingly cupped his—

Dear God, that ass.

The fabric stretched taut across the front, leaving no doubt about his lingering arousal. The sight sent warmth unfurling in my chest, not from desire alone, but from something deeper: he was taking care of me. Feeding me before... before whatever came next.

A deep, shuddering sigh escaped me, carrying the weight of all the tangled emotions swirling in my chest. My head fell back against the pillows, and I draped an arm over my eyes, a futile shield against the overwhelming rush of feeling.

"I'm so done for," I muttered into the quiet, my voice a blend of awed resignation and joyous wonder.

I wasn't scared. Not of this. Not of him.

Reluctantly, I peeled myself from the warmth of the bed, moving slowly, testing. There was a pleasant ache between my thighs, a vivid reminder of last night that made heat rise to my cheeks all over again. My legs wobbled slightly as I padded toward the bathroom, my mind replaying every scorching touch, every reverent whisper.

The way he looked at me. The way he touched me like I was something precious.

When I caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back. My hair was a tousled mess, my lips faintly swollen from his kisses, and faint marks dotted my neck where Jaxon's mouth had been. But it was my eyes that stopped me. Bright, alive, and happy in a way they hadn't been in years.

I looked like someone who's been thoroughly loved.

Because I had been. Not just physically, but in every way that mattered.

I splashed cool water on my face, trying to calm the blush that refused to fade, then brushed my teeth and ran a comb through mytangled hair. The shirt I wore hung to mid-thigh, and for a moment I debated changing into actual clothes.