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Without warning, he sheathed himself inside me. I cried out at the fullness, digging my nails into the muscle at the base of his neck. He made me feel whole whenever we were together. Every day, I waited for this—for anything he could give me.
I wiggled, begging him to move. Sometimes, he liked to stay still like this. While I adjusted to his size, he regained composure so he knew he wouldn’t hurt me. He loved testing the boundaries of his own self-control, waiting until he absolutely couldn’t stop himself from going further. It was maddening and oh-so-very hot.
“Shh,” Jack cooed, retaking my mouth with a slow, sweet kiss. “I want to fuck you so hard, baby. Until you can’t walk even five feet away from me. And then I want to do it again and again until we’re too old and stubborn to entertain the idea of leaving one another.”
I screamed when, on cue, Jack lunged into me, rocking his hips so that his groin massaged my clit. I was a live wire, wriggling and clawing, barely capable of keeping the plastic on his tattoo away from my nails. I was certain Jack had just said he wanted to grow old with me—but in his own way.
“Again, again, again…” I begged.
Jack did as he was told, gripping my hips and pulling me down onto his thick cock. I loosened my legs and arched my back, allowing him better access to do what he did best.
“That’s right, dove,” Jack encouraged, rocking deeper and deeper with each thrust. “Let me in.”
I groaned, equal parts turned on and frustrated with this man. “Let me in!”
“No!” Jack barked, hitting the end of me.
“Jack.” I moaned, my lungs ragged. Sweat and water drops coated my body, running in rivulets down my slippery skin. “I’m not going anywhere. I won’t survive it. Please stop pushing me away just to pull me back again. I’ll never recover from losing you. You’ve completely obliterated any preconceptions that I had of love. I can’t live without this. Without you.”
Something shimmered in his eyes when I finished my confession, but what I thought was a tear was gone in the next moment. His forehead collided with mine, throwing me back into the wall. Oh, he was moving so fast, guiding us both to that highest of highs—hearts pounding against one another, tongues dueling, legs trembling. Jack ate my moans, pushing me farther up the wall with every flex of his hips. I was going to be sore as hell tomorrow, but this was worth it—he was worth it.
“Are you here, baby?” Jack asked, his voice strained with impending release.
“Always,” I whimpered, going slick around him as my own orgasm crested.
He buried his face in my neck, his jaw tight. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
The sound of pleasure ripping through him was my undoing. I fisted my hands in his hair, yanking at the roots as a scream erupted from my belly. Warm heat shot from my sex to my fingertips and toes, goosebumps following in its wake.
Jack’s legs gave out and we slid to the marble floor, latched together. We kept our arms wrapped around one another as our breathing settled. Oh. My. God. At this rate, we were going to destroy each other.
“I killed a man tonight.”
My grip on him tightened and, in response, his still-hard cock twitched inside me. I thought about my response, grateful that he couldn’t see my face while I bit my lip, my eyes narrowing.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I prodded, knowing what his answer would be.
“No.” He was shutting me out again. No explanations. His muscles stiffened, his arms becoming iron bars around my petite frame. “Are you going to leave me?”
I leaned back as much as his grip allowed. Oh, Jack… His head was hanging, his eyes screwed shut. He looked to be in even more pain than before.
How could he think—after everything we’d been through, after everything I just said—that I would ever leave him? I knew Jack was a killer. He had admitted it to me on one occasion. I liked to imagine it was in his past, but that was wishful thinking. Over the course of our relationship, I’d caught evidence of his work—bruised knuckles, bloody towels, cuts along his forehead from where he’d met the blunt end of an object. With Connor dead, it was only going to get uglier.
“Open your eyes, Jack,” I demanded, interlocking my hands behind his neck.
“I can’t. You’re too beautiful. It’s like trying to stare at the sun.”
Tears muddied my vision. “You’re mine, Jack. As much as I’m yours. You could’ve killed a thousand men tonight and it wouldn’t change anything.”
He finally looked up at me, eyes wide in disbelief. His gaze roamed my features, as if begging me to take it back—and wishing I never would.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he croaked, signs of hope stirring in the grassy depths of his irises. “You wreck me, Emma. I love you so much it hurts.”
I sniffled, struggling to speak around the lump in my throat. “I feel it too.”
Jack pulled me to him and I sobbed into the crook of his neck. He ran his soothing hands along my back, sending tingles up and down my spine.
Everything I had said was true. I just had to keep reassuring myself that Jack would stay on the right side of the barrel of the gun. If he didn’t… I couldn’t fathom the outcome. There would be no outcome.
