I stop and look back at him, letting a little bit of the darkness from last night bleed into my eyes. “Want to test me today?” I ask. “Or should we talk about what in the actual fuck you were wearing?”
Matt raises both hands, his smile vanishing. “Never mind.”
Sixty-Eight
THEN | SISK
“Put me down!” I yell, but it’s useless. He just laughs and hoists me over his shoulder. The world tilts, his shoulder digging into my stomach as he takes the stairs two at a time.
“And let you run? Not a fucking chance.”
“I’m gonna puke,” I gasp, the jostling making my head spin. “All over you.”
Jax kicks open a door at the top of the stairs and sets me down unceremoniously.
“What is this?” I push myself up, looking around the empty space. There’s nothing but bare wooden floors, no bed, no couch. In one corner, a pile of blankets sits on the floor, and next to it, a mountain of clothes with a single box sitting against the wall. “Some kind of… murder loft?”
I wander over, kicking at it with my foot. A belt and a pocketknife fall out. “Great,” I say, holding it up. “Kidnapping and stabbing.”
He just grins, kicking off his shoes. “You caught me.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you really sleeping in the storage room?”
“This is an apartment,” he says. “You’re just blind to potential.”
He drops onto the floor and stretches out across the planks.
“Now, shut up and sit down.”
“Oh sure,” I say, looking around dramatically. “Let me just choose between all these luxurious seating options.”
Jax grins, then makes a V with two fingers and sticks out his tongue, flicking it obscenely through the gap. “Best seat in the house,” he growls. “Come here, Rabbit. Let’s see if you talk this much when you’re sitting on my tongue.”
I stare at him, then look around the room again like I might suddenly discover a chair.
“Strip,” he commands. “Slow. I want to watch every inch.”
My breath hitches, but I play it cool, reaching for the hem of my shirt.
He starts humming, some low, dirty-sounding tune I don’t recognize as his eyes stay locked on me, dark and hungry. “That’s it,” he murmurs as the shirt comes off. “Every fucking piece.”
My fingers tremble as I peel it up, my skin prickling under his intense gaze. The rest of my clothes follow, pooling on the dirty floor.
He watches me, relaxed on the floor like he has all night. I step closer, naked and vulnerable, stopping right in front of his legs.
“Now crawl,” he orders, his voice a feral scrape of sound. “Crawl up my body.”
Thank fuck for the alcohol burning through my veins, because I sink to my knees without a second thought.
“Yeah, just like that. Put your hands on the floor. And, Rabbit”—he pauses, and I pause too—“eyes on me.”
I crawl over him until I’m hovering above his chest. He’s the only person I can be this vulnerable with; he could order me to bark right now and I’d probably do it with a smile. It’s shockinghow easy it is to obey him, how good it feels to just let go and let him run the show.
He grabs the back of my neck, pulling me down for a hard kiss, but it’s not a kiss; it’s years of nothing crashing into this single moment as his tongue is in my mouth instantly, claiming, his free hand clamping down on the small of my back to press me against him while the other is still fisted in my hair.
Last time I let him fuck me, he didn’t let me come. There’s no way I’m walking out of here without an orgasm.Even if I have to choke him as I sit on his face.
His hands leave my hair and my back, moving with a purpose that makes my whole body tense in anticipation. They find my breasts, his thumbs and forefingers closing around my nipples, rolling them between his fingers. It’s a proprietary touch, like he’s testing to make sure I’m still his, that my body still responds to him like it always has. It does.Fuck, it does.My back arches, pushing my chest further into his hands.
