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“You spanking me.”
“What else?”
“Nothing. Nothing else. Well, that and how much I want to touch you.”
“Exactly. That’s what a spanking is all about, Emma. Escape. Now, don’t touch me until I tell you that you can touch me.”
It’s then that I admit that, yes, I do want her submission. I want her to burn alive for me. I want her to do anything I say just to get more. I want her to want me that badly, but I also want so much more from Emma Knight. I want her to be mine and the fact that she was willing to walk away, to leave tonight, says she isn’t mine at all.
And damn it, I’m going to change that.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Emma
Don’t touch him.
That is no easy task when my body is on fire and my belly trembling with his lips that are now pressed there. I want to touch him. God, how I want to touch him. His tongue teases my delicate skin, and even as it does, he settles lower on the mattress, his shoulders between my thighs. His mouth moves lower, and he widens my legs. My sex clenches almost painfully with how badly I want him in that most intimate part of me. He knows, too. I feel it. I can feel him willing me to do what he wants and what he wants is for me to touch him, so he can spank me.
And as he predicted it would be: I both want that spanking and dread it.
His lips move lower, lower, and then sideways to my hip, his teeth scraping there, his tongue salve to the sting he’s left behind. And then he’s back to my belly, his mouth pressing there, his blue eyes finding mine, the depths of his stare smoldering with burning embers. I am burning alive, lost in this man, and yet, somehow, unbidden, I think of York. I think of every moment that man looked at me and made me feel insecure and uncomfortable. I think of all of his demands. And I think of these things because that’s not what I feel with Jax. After all I went through with York, I trust Jax enough to be vulnerable with him. He can’t possibly know how impossible I would have thought that to be for me with anyone ever again.
Jax catches my hips, and his breath is a warm whisper on my clit that drives away everything but him, this—us. I suck in a breath of my own now, waiting, wanting. My hands come down. They want to reach for him, but I catch the blanket instead. He laughs at my quick save, the sound a low, rough rumble, that vibrates off his tongue as it licks my clit. I arch with the sudden onslaught of sensations rippling through my body. My hips lift off the bed, my body begging for more. So much more. Jax does a slow twirl with his tongue, and his fingers slide along the wet heat of my sex. I am now balling the blanket in my hands, holding onto it to stop from grabbing him.
I pant out a, “Please Jax,” begging, wanting something, anything. I just want more. Please spank me. Please fuck me. Please just be inside me right now.
His response is to suckle my clit, while his fingers slip inside me. My breath rasps from my dry throat, and my fingers cramp with how hard I clutch the blanket. He’s licking me now, and his tongue is merciless in its exploration. His thumb flicks my clit while his tongue replaces his fingers, delving in and out, over and around. And just when I’m right there, when I’m about to come, he seems to know and responds. He denies me that one last moment I need to be there, in that sweet wonderful place. His mouth lifts, and his fingers slide inside me again. They stretch me, stroke me, drive me insane.
Blood roars in my ears, and I don’t even try to hold back. I’m somehow just pumping against him, looking for the sweet spot he just denied me, and oh yes, I’m there. I’m so there again, thank you, Lord, only to gasp as his fingers are gone. His mouth is back on my clit, and the buildup begins again. I’m there quicker this time, right on the edge, and when I’m certain that he will pull away, desperation rises inside me. I need what he keeps denying me and to hell with his rule. I reach for him. I touch him, and the minute I do, I know my mistake, if you can call it a mistake. Because, yes, his mouth lifts, and yes, he denies me my orgasm, but now he’s on top of me, the sweet weight of him pressing me into the mattress.
