Page 88 of The Fixer

“And you’re…”

“Yes,” I whispered as his hands swept low across my front.

“Say goodbye, Eliza,” Jet murmured at my ear. “Tell your friend we’ll see her soon.”

A whimper left my throat, those hands inching lower, lower, into the band on my shorts. “Brooke—”

“I’m going to let you go, sweetie. You two have fun.”

“Bye.”

Jet grabbed my phone, pressing end before tossing it to the couch. He lifted me from the floor, wrapping my legs around his waist. “Did you lock the door?”

“Locked, dead bolted, and chained,” I told him, smiling down at his gorgeous face.

“Good girl.”

His mouth pressed to mine, and he was moving, hands clutching, tongue sweeping, feet rushing to the bed in his room. He kissed me like he always did, as if not doing so was painful. And I met him kiss for kiss, washing away the pain of the past with the love building in our hearts.

Jet slid my shorts off as he laid me on his bed, then whipped his own down as I tore off my shirt. The man stood there, staring at me, eyes roving like hands. Caressing every bare inch of my skin.

“Open your legs for me, Eliza,” he said, his demand harsh and wicked and making my skin burn. “Let me see how wet you are for me.”

“Jet.” It came out a whisper, a plea, because the empty space inside me ached to be filled. My legs fell open, my body surrendering to his every wish because I wanted it to.

“I’m going to eat you now,” he told me, and I shook my head.

“No, Jet, I’m all sweaty,” I said, trying to close my legs.

But he’d already moved between them, was already lowering his mouth. “You think I care about that, sweet girl? I’ve been deprived of you. Deprived of your sweetness, and I need your taste on my tongue.”

Deprived.

As if he hadn’t made love to me just a few hours ago.

But there was no use in trying to stop him. And when his tongue swept across my slit, there was no protest left in my body.

I was his. His to use, his to love. His to do with whatever he wanted. Because what he wanted was me, a puddle of mush at his feet as he licked and laved his wicked tongue, pressing into me and nipping with his teeth. Giving me the kind of attention I’d never known before him. The kind I was sure I’d never get enough of.

I gripped his hair as his hand curled around my butt. He lifted me to him like a chalice, drinking from me as if I were the most precious gift. And my world spun, my mind going dizzy when I forgot to breathe. His breath hot, his tongue frantic. The need inside me built to a fever pitch.

Stars shone in the middle of the day, dancing in my eyes as the sweet moonlight of his lit me up. Then he was there, crawling over me, mouth descending, pressing my scent and my taste into my mouth as he pressed the head of his erection into the slippery mess we’d made.

“I need you, Eliza,” he begged as he spread me wide, flaying me open. “Need to feel you. Need to hold you. Don’t ever want to let you go.”

“Then don’t,” I told him, my breath coming in pants, my body flying higher with every one of his thrusts. “Keep me.”

“Forever, sweet girl. You’re mine now.”

“And I’ll never leave you.”

Jet whispered sweet words in my ears as he held me. Sucked at my skin as he pressed into me over and over, the sweet drag of him inside of me the most delicious kind of torture. The pain was so perfect as it swept through every inch of me. He was beautiful in every way. The glue that held me together, the mortar that filled me and made me strong.

He was my missing puzzle piece, the thing my life was missing.

With him, I knew, I’d always be safe.

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