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“Panicked because of your brother,” he said, closing his eyes. He shook his head. “Why would you ever take that risk? That risk on me.”
His words had bee
n quiet this time, and though not weak, they were laced with just as much emotion.
“Jax…”
“You know I want to fucking hate you,” he started, my eyes twitching wide. “I want to, but you make it so goddamn hard.”
But why? Why did he want to hate me? Hurt me? I started to touch him, but he backed away as if I’d burn him.
He swallowed. “But the worst part about this? Is that he wins. Every goddamn time, he wins.”
“Who wins?” I rushed to him, but he just angled away again.
His expression fell. “I want to hate you. I need to hate you. I don’t want to…”
He didn’t finish. Because in the next moment, he was reaching for me.
And cradling my face.
His mouth actually trembled over my lips, light before crashing hard. He tasted my tongue, aggressive as he gripped my hair and pulled my head back. This gave him better access, his mouth completely devouring mine.
“Why do you hate me?” I gasped but for some reason, kissed him harder. I felt his ache, the force of it quaking through his lips. It surged off him like raw heat. He was Lucifer in the depths, a fallen angel.
He didn’t answer me as he spun me around by the hair. Closing the door, he pressed my body up against it, his cock pillowed between my ass cheeks.
He ran himself up and down, dragging his mouth through my hair and making my nipples burn.
“Just let me have this,” he retched, as if he actually needed it, needed me. Gathering my breasts, he pulled me to him. “I need inside you.”
“Please…” My only response as I faded into vapor in his hands, every touch a scalding hot burn I actually wanted to mar me. His mark was truly needed.
And had been for so long it actually hurt.
I’d dreamed about his touch more than one night, fantasized about it. I wanted my stepbrother, my bully.
I really had come to him.
I was beyond caring at this point, Jax biting my lips from above. He undid his pants while he backed us up to his bed. He forced them down and when he picked me up, he tossed me on the sheets.
“Girl Scout,” he dragged over my mouth, so hard through his boxers. Since I was only wearing sleep shorts I felt everything, his body a simmering force of want and warmth. “God, if you don’t fuck with my head.”
He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to want this and probably even more than myself. This was the last thing I wanted as well, to be obsessed over him, to need him.
But when he pushed his hands up my body, I not only let him but ached for him. He gathered my shirt above my breasts, nibbling the swell. I still had my sports bra on but he made quick work of that. It snapped at the front, and he released it with merely a flick of his digits.
“Fuck, have you really only been touched by me?” he asked, and as if to confirm, he laved one of my nipples. His tongue flicked, and I mewled in response, quaking beneath his hands.
“This is mine,” he said, his tongue drawing circles around one of my hardened peaks. He sucked it in, releasing it with a pop. “No one touches you but me.”
I couldn’t disagree even if I wanted, like I could. I couldn’t ever fathom anyone else doing this to me but him. I didn’t want to think about anyone else, be surrounded by anyone else. Jax kissed his way down my stomach, and I thought I’d die in a puddle.
“Strip for me,” he said, watching as I tugged my shirt off, then forced my shorts down. His eyes ignited at the sight of soaked panties. I went for those too, but he stopped me.
His lengthy digit parted my pussy lips, and with a pinch, he had me bucking beneath him.
“Jaxen…”
