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“Please?” I quietly add in.
Sitting beside me, he studies my every movement. Reaching up, I lightly cup my hand against his face, and his eyes glow.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He appears startled, taken back. “Don’t thank me.” When I begin to lower my arm, he catches my wrist. “All I want is to keep you safe. Do you understand?”
I slightly nod.
“Do you understand, Sasha?”
“Yes,” I murmur. “I understand.”
“You are mine. Mine to touch, mine to fuck, and mine to protect, at all costs.”
He releases my wrist, and leans back against the seat.
Something in me changes instantaneously. You can almost feel an electrical current in the air, with one single spark we would surely go up in flames.
There’s a magnetic pull, a force so powerful I can hardly contain myself as my hand finds his knee.
My fingertips slowly inch up his thigh, hovering over the button of his dress pants. I wait for him to stop me.
Although, he doesn’t.
Meeting his hypnotic blue eyes, he remains motionless, urging me to make a move. I’m so brutally tempted, yet I’m trying desperately to fight my reckless impulses.
This is unlike me. What am I doing?
I’m drowning in his shameless stare.
He grabs the back of my neck, his lips only inches from mine. His gaze blazes through me, swallowing me whole, pulling me from the darkness.
Pressing his lips on my throat, my body trembles. I fist his hair, relishing the scent of his favorite cologne. Jaxon eases me onto my back and hovers over me, trailing a path of soft kisses to my collarbone. He yanks my dress up to my waist, and slides my thong down my legs.
His fingertips graze my inner thigh, and my eyes squeeze shut. Rubbing my clit in precise circles, my legs spread wider. Needing more. Aching for it, craving for it.
He dips his finger inside me, stroking my walls in all the right places, over and over. Writhing beneath him, his lips find my shoulder, then my collarbone.
His fingers sink into me deeper and deeper, from slow, and steady to an urgent, torturous rhythm. My fingers claw at his chest, fisting the front of his shirt as my legs begin to shake.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes against my neck, curling his fingers, stroking just the right spot. “I am the only man who can touch you this way. The only man to give you pleasure.”
I moan, and my stomach quivers.
“You’re mine,” he whispers beside my ear. “I want to feel you all over my fingers. Come for me.”
Trying desperately to stifle a cry, I bite my bottom lip, giving in wholeheartedly to each sensation as my stomach tightens. Reaching my peak, my entire body convulses.
My back arches, my inner walls clench around his slippery fingers, spasming, and my mouth falls open.
“Oh, fuck,” I whimper, burying my fingers through his hair. “God, yes.”
Wave after wave of intense euphoria, I ride out my orgasm, crying out to him. Gasping for air to fill my deprived lungs.
Jaxon unbuttons his pants and slightly pulls them down, hovering over me once more. Spreading my legs with his knee, he rubs the tip of his cock against my sensitive clit and wet entrance, again and again.
My hips buck against him, begging for him. For all of him. He sinks into me, slowly. I accept every inch, savoring the feeling of his full possession.
