Page 39 of The Good Girl Effect (Salacious Legacy #1)

Jack

I ’ve known anger before. I’m familiar with outrage and impatience and possessiveness.

But I have never felt this. Seeing Camille, my Camille , strapped to that wall with Julian’s selfish, indignant, smug hands all over her created an explosion of passion inside me.

My brain doesn’t compute reason or rationale. It doesn’t ask questions or work to formulate excuses. It just sees her, and something primal takes over.

Julian stands off to the side, his arms crossed as he laughs to himself. My fingers fumble to remove the straps around her wrists, but my hands are shaking too much.

I hear her stammering something anxiously, but I’m not listening. They’re apologies and excuses, I know that much, but I’m not interested in those.

Once her arms are free, I snatch the red silk from her fist, waving it in her face with flared nostrils and furrowed brows.

When she sees the anger in my eyes, her chest expands, and she grows a few inches taller.

That’s it, baby. Fight with me.

“Don’t you wave that in my face!” she shouts, snatching the fabric from me. “I can do whatever I please.”

“Think again, little bird,” I argue, getting even closer to her.

“I do not belong to you.”

My hand snatches her arm, and I toss her over my shoulder while she screams in displeasure.

“Jack St. Claire, put me down!” she hollers as I drag her away from the wall and away from Julian, who is still watching us with enthusiasm. I bet he’s proud of himself for this, but I’m not concerned with him right now.

I intend to carry Camille from the club like I did the first time I found her here unexpectedly.

That’s what I should do, but we pass down the long hallway of rooms, and I know I’ll never make it to the exit.

What did I really expect? That I could just deposit her on the street and somehow return to my work upstairs as if nothing happened?

No. We are either going to fight this out or fuck this out. Or both.

The rooms are all still unlocked, so I throw open the door of the first one and hoist her inside while she bangs her fists against my back. As I set her down on her feet, she doesn’t rest for even a second, flying straight toward me in anger.

“What is wrong with you?” she shrieks.

“Me?” I argue. “What is wrong with you ? What are you doing here? And with him ?”

“I was bringing you your lunch,” she says, punching her finger against my chest. “But it doesn’t matter what I was doing because I don’t belong to you!”

My hand flies to her mouth, covering it in a rush as I back her against the wall. Her eyes are wide, and I can feel her panting breath against my palm. Getting close to her face so our bodies are flush, I mutter angrily, “We both know that’s not true, little bird.”

Her hands claw at my chest as she tries to push me away while also scratching through the fabric as if she wants to hurt me. Behind my hand, she’s trying to argue, but her words are muffled and incoherent.

I press my body to hers as her eyes meet mine. There is a fire in them, torrid passion blazing behind the irises. Neither of us can grasp where the fury ends and the arousal begins.

“No one else can touch you,” I say as I swipe open the top button of her blouse. “No one else can even fucking look at you.” My fingers continue, slipping open one button at a time until she’s no longer clawing at my chest but mimicking my ministrations.

Suddenly, we are furiously undressing each other, but my hand is still pressed over her lips to keep her from speaking.

“Do you understand me?” I ask as I slide my hand around her waist under her shirt, my cool palm against her hot skin. “You are mine, little bird. No one else’s.”

She doesn’t respond as she slips my shirt from my shoulders, obviously eager to touch me but not eager to answer my question.

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, there are warning signs trying to remind me that we’re not supposed to say things like this to each other. I can’t make commitments and promises to this woman. But they are too distant and faint to acknowledge, drowned out by this need to have her.

I replace the hand over her mouth with my lips. She kisses me back, mercilessly biting my bottom lip between her teeth. Her obstinance radiates through the kiss, and it makes me want to dominate her even more, but I know I need to earn her submission to get that. I can’t force it.

As we kiss, trading bites and moans, we work off each other’s pants. She still won’t answer my question, refusing to adhere to my unfair requests.

Before we go any further, I stop her with a grip around her throat. Pressing her to the wall, I force her to look up at me. She’s still tenaciously angry, and I want that.

“Tell me what I want to hear,” I growl.

“No,” she argues with her chin raised.

I pepper it with kisses before pulling away and trying to force her again.

“Say it, little bird.”

When she tries pushing me away, I notice tears springing to her eyes. She’s upset, and I understand why. I’m being unreasonable. Asking for more than I’ve offered to give. Demanding something from her without earning it first.

And while I watch her struggle, both with me and against me, I realize that I have to do something I never thought I’d be able to do again. Because if I don’t, I’ll lose her for good.

Covering her body, I bring my face so close to hers that she can’t look away. Her fiery gaze bores into me as I whisper the words—it’s like I’m trying to hide from them.

“You want me to tell you I belong to you too, right?”

With her chest heaving, she nods.

I press my forehead to hers, breathing her air and feeling her heart pound. “You don’t want me, little bird. Don’t you see what a mess I am? You deserve so much better.”

Her lip trembles as she stares at me. “Don’t say that,” she whispers, holding her head up higher and waiting for me to say what she wants to hear. “I do want you, Jack.”

The tired beating organ in my chest stutters at the sound of her saying that to me. I had to know it was true before, but hearing those words from her lips hurts as much as it heals.

“You want me to say that I am yours as much as you are mine, but you must know it’s true. Don’t you see what you’ve done to me?”

Her expression softens as she looks up at me. The fire is still there as she whispers, “Then say it.”

I don’t hesitate. “I am yours.”

There is disbelief in her expression as she winds her arms around my neck and practically leaps into my arms, kissing me with as much fervor as before.

Mumbling against my mouth, she pleads, “Then take me, Jack. Make me yours, and I’ll never touch another man again.”

A low growling sound escapes my lips at that response.

Picking her up off the floor, I carry her over to the dresser against the wall and set her on the surface.

Her legs wrap around me as I kiss my way down her neck, nibbling and licking as if I’m trying to devour her.

I want to mark her and leave her covered in bites and bruises to prove to anyone who dares to look at her that she is taken.

I’m rough with her body as I move my lips to her breasts, squeezing her flesh tight enough to make her feel how much she means to me. And when I bite the tight bud of her nipple, she throws her head back and whimpers. “Harder.”

I’m coming undone, being torn into a million pieces until all that remains is a base, carnal version of myself with only one motivation— her .

My fingers tear at her panties, ripping them off or maybe in half.

I can’t tell, and I don’t care. I just need to get to her cunt and taste her.

Dropping to my knees, I throw her legs over my shoulders as I jerk her body to the edge of the dresser and loudly devour the divine paradise between her legs.

Every inch of her body belongs to me. My woman. My delicious pussy. Even the cries of pleasure that pass through her lips are mine.

Her screams are loud, and her body thrashes as I suck fiercely on her clit. I realize it’s the first time I’ve had the pleasure of hearing her sounds during sex. We usually have to stay so quiet, but now, she’s giving me everything. And I fucking love it.

Her fingers grip tightly to my hair at the scalp and pull until it makes my eyes water. I welcome the pain. I need it. I moan loudly against her.

While my mouth is busy between her legs, licking up her scent and covering my face with it, my fingers work to undo my pants. A tight, overwhelming arousal crawls down my spine as I wrap my hand around my cock, pumping as I feast on her cunt.

“Please,” she cries in a needy whine. “I need to come.” Her voice is strained, her head hung back as the word draws out like she’s been possessed.

“Come on my tongue, little bird. Let me taste it.”

I slide my two middle fingers into her tight heat, curling them as I thrust hard. She practically levitates off the dresser with her legs wrapped tightly around my head.

As she screams, her pussy pulses and tightens with her orgasm, and it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.

“Good girl,” I praise her, letting her ride out the entire wave of pleasure on my mouth and hand, but as soon as the climax has crested, I stand and kiss her fiercely on the mouth. She’s unafraid to taste herself, kissing me back as I settle myself between her thighs.

When the warmth of her cunt welcomes the head of my cock, I hold her by the back of the neck so she is forced to stare into my eyes. Then I thrust inside, pressing myself as deep as I can go.

This is proof that I’m hers. The way she takes every inch is all the proof I need that her body is my home.

Staring down, I watch my cock slide back inside her. It’s a feeling I’ve never had with any of the women I’ve been with before, and I know that Camille will always be the exception. If, God forbid, I lose her, no one will ever come close to her perfection.

I understand the weight of that realization. But it’s too heavy to carry at the moment, so I shove the thought aside.

Instead, I focus on the pure bliss of being inside her, finding the rhythm in her body, tasting her lips as I move.

“Fuck me harder, Jack. You won’t break me.”

With a punishing grip on her hips, I pick up my speed and intensity. She takes me in her arms, and I bury my face in her neck, getting off on the scent of her skin and the reminder that she’s mine.

“Look what you do to me,” I mumble against her skin. “You are mine, little bird. No one else can have you. No one else can touch you.”

“Yes,” she cries out, her legs wrapping around me tighter.

Usually, I’m eager to make it last, but not today. Today, I need to fill her up. This isn’t sex for pleasure. It’s sex for control. I’m marking my territory and staking my claim.

“I need to come inside you,” I mumble with a whimper, feeling the pulse in her neck against my cheek.

As she holds me closer, my hips still pounding relentlessly against her, she moans with each violent thrust. “I’ll take all of it. Give it to me.”

I growl louder as my climax approaches. The dresser creaks and trembles under our weight, but all I can think about right now is filling her up.

Images of her swollen belly, my child growing inside, another seed planted to prove that she belongs to me, fill my mind.

Within seconds, I’m coming hard, and instead of pulling out like I always do, I use her tight cunt to squeeze every last drop of my cum out of my body.

Her legs tighten around my waist to hold me there. My lips move up to her mouth, kissing her again, this time more breathlessly.

“Jack,” she whispers, so I pull my face away and stare into her eyes.

As she strokes my cheek, I know she wants to utter words she can’t. And I know what those words are because I want to proclaim them too. But even after acknowledging our feelings today, we can’t speak those words to each other. Not without the inevitable heartbreak that would follow.

It doesn’t matter that I love her or that she loves me. It doesn’t change anything—not really.

It just makes the stakes so much higher.