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“It’ll give you something to look forward to. A little added motivation. And if you’re really,reallygood at the friendship thing, I’ll also get you a matching bracelet.”
“Thoughtful,” he deadpanned, humor glinting in his gaze.
“That’s me. A total giver. You don’t know how lucky you are to have me standing here offering you a friendship branch, but you’ll soon get it. I have a feeling we’ll be good pals. We’ll be braiding each other’s hair in no time.”
His shoulders shook with a silent chuckle that chased away the last of the shadows in his eyes. But those shadows would likely be back—and soon. After all, the poor guy had had a hell of an evening.
Being face-to-face with the mirror image of Gracie would have been incredibly difficult. And hurting her sister—though said sister had thoroughly exhausted his patience at this point—wouldn’t have been easy, especially since witnessing Mimi’s pained expression would be like seeingGraciein pain.
“Want some space tonight?” I offered.
“Why would I want that?” An idle question. His focus was on the fingers he began to run through my hair—the move slow, careful, entitled.
“Well … you kind of got slapped by your past just now.” His mind had to be a mess. “And the scene that played out wasn’t fun.”
He only let out a distracted hum, preoccupied with rubbing the ends of my hair between the pads of his fingers.
“I won’t be offended if you’d rather be alone for a little while.”
His eyes slid back to mine. “Thought you wanted us to be friends.”
“Part of being friends with someone is knowing and respecting when they need some time on their own,” I pointed out.
“True.” His gaze lazily moved down to my lips, hovered there for a few seconds, and then skated back up to meet my eyes once more. “But I don’t need or want any space from you.”
I swallowed. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” He slowly dipped his head, pressed his nose to the hollow beneath my ear, and inhaled deeply. “Wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.” The quiet words fanned over my sensitive skin, making a shiver ride my spine.
Feeling my mouth begin to dry up, I placed a hand on his chest for balance, worried I’d otherwise sway into him. “Okay.”
Dax lifted his head. “Glad we’re clear on that.” He slowly edged his face closer to mine. Stopped. Stared. Refused to let me look away. “Now,” he whispered, “get on your knees.”
Chapter Seventeen
My entire body clenched. The words might have been spoken in a soft murmur, but the punch of authority there couldn’t be missed. Nor could it fail to make every nerve-ending I possessed wake up in anticipation.
A static tension built. Stretched out. Turned thick and hot.
But we had a problem. “Dax, I don’t know if this is the right time. I mean, after what just happened …” His thoughts would surely be on another woman, a woman who—
He snapped his hand tight around my throat and hauled me closer, causing his hardening cock to aggressively dig into my belly. His eyes blazed with warning as he said, “Do not let your mind go there. No one else ever comes into this bedroom. Only you and me.”
I nodded as much as his hold would allow. “Only us.”
The menace slowly receded from his expression. As the hand collaring my throat slid up to gently burrow into my hair, he stroked the side of my nose with his own. “That’s my good girl.”
It was insane how he could so quickly bounce from sensually gentle to roughly forceful … and back again. All that restrained violence would for certaincome back. Any moment, he could switch once more. Knowing that,waitingfor it, caused an intoxicating excitement to sing in my veins.
A crackling sexual energy danced in the air. It made my skin prickle, my nipples pebble, and my pulse go haywire.
His tongue traced the outline of my lips. “All day I’ve been thinking about having your mouth on me,” he said, his pitch lowering, his words coming slower, his tone deepening. “I want to see you gagging on my cock, Addison. I want to bury it so deep I’m all the way down your throat. I want to watch you swallow every bit of come I give you. So”—he went nose to nose with me—“get on your fucking knees.”
It wasn’t voiced as a command, but the slivers of dominance embedded in his words slithered into my mind and pulled at me to obey, please, sign control over—signmyselfover—to him.
My mindset shifted. Calmed. Settled. Became centered on him.
If he hadn’t been my first, if this wasn’t my initial introduction to sex, it probably would have felt strange to have feelings of both safety and arousal descend over me at the same time. But it felt natural and familiar to me. Put me at ease in a way I couldn’t explain. Almost as if my body had become wired for this. Wired to expect it, even.
