Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 202770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1014(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 676(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 202770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1014(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 676(@300wpm)
I hurry through the room, and I’ve made it halfway to the bathroom, just past the bed, when Jax catches my arm. Heat rushes up my arm, and it’s not all about anger. It’s about this man touching me. It’s about this man and how much I want him, how much I even feel as if want has transformed to need. I whirl around, intent to confront him, but I fail. He drags me against him, all those hard muscles absorbing all the softer parts of me, and the words linger on my tongue, but never leave my mouth.
“What are we doing?” he demands, and he doesn’t give me time to reply. “This.” His mouth closes down on mine, and I try to fight, no, I tell myself to fight, to push back, to save myself before I go down and never find my way back up. But I don’t fight. I don’t even try to save myself.
His mouth closes down on mine, and the taste of him, all man and demand, undoes me. I sink into his big, powerful body, as my tongue meets his. I’m all in, kissing him like there is no tomorrow, and maybe there isn’t, maybe there can’t be, but right now, right now, I reject that idea. I drink him in the way he’s drinking me in until his mouth is gone, his breath a warm whisper, as he says, “That. Over and over again, with no end I want to imagine. We’re not bad for each other. We’re not poison. Say it. We’re not poison.”
But I can’t say it.
How can I say what I’m not sure I believe?
Chapter fifty-six
Emma
“Damn it, woman,” Jax says, when I don’t give him the answer he wants, his fingers twisting in my hair, a rough pull that is far more erotic than painful. “I don’t want anything the way I want you. I’m not walking away.”
He doesn’t want anything the way he wants me? That declaration, spoken low and guttural, undoes me. I’m an outsider, invisible, but for my family and name, except with him. And I want him to want me. So much so that it’s terrifying. “What if—”
“I’m not going to let you finish that sentence,” he says, and then he’s kissing me all over again. And I’m kissing him and nothing else matters. That’s what he does to me. That’s what he keeps doing to me, but I don’t even care right now. I don’t want to think about what comes next if it’s not him, if it’s not with him. I don’t want to think about never touching him or kissing him again, but I touch him and kiss him like this is it, like this is the last time there is a me and him.
I wrap myself around him in every way possible. My arms. One of my legs around his leg. I don’t even know how his shirt comes over my head, but I’m suddenly on my back, and he’s on top of me. His pants are gone, and the thick ridge of his erection is between my legs. I’m wet. I’m arching into him, and when he parts our mouths, I’m panting.
“Stop kissing me like this is the last time we’ll do this,” he demands. “Because it isn’t. It will never be the last time.” He presses inside me, stretching me, filling me, and it’s like I can finally breathe when I couldn’t breathe moments before. Any objection to his words I might have found are gone, so very gone. He drives deep, and his mouth comes down on mine, and now, he’s kissing me like this is our last kiss. His hand slides underneath my backside, and he lifts me inside him, thrusting as he does, pressing deep. He’s not just kissing me like this is it for us. He’s fucking me like this is it for us.
The contradiction drives me crazy. It infuriates me. It cuts me. I tear my mouth from his. “Now who’s kissing who like this is the end, Jax?”
“Only you, baby, only you.” He doesn’t wait for my objection. His fingers flex on my backside, and he rolls slightly, entangling our legs, our tongues, molding every possible part of us closer, tighter. I can’t get close enough to him. We can’t get close enough to each other. We can’t kiss deep enough. We can’t fuck hard enough. No, it’s not fucking. It’s more, so much more. I want to crawl under this man’s skin. I want him like I didn’t know I could want. I moan. He lets out this low, rough sound, his teeth scraping my shoulder, his hand sliding over my breast, my body.
And I swear it feels too soon, but it happens. I shatter without warning, my sex clenching around him. Pleasure rips through me, emanating from deep inside me and blasting through my entire body. It’s hard and fast, and the minute I’m back in this world, Jax rolls me fully to my back again and drives into me, a low, guttural sound sliding from his mouth, the animalistic need on his face mesmerizing me. I did that to him, that’s all for me, and that’s a powerful, sexy feeling. He shudders, his head tilting back from the intensity of his release, before he all but collapses on top of me, catching his weight on his elbows. Even at this moment, sated, out of his head and in his body, he protected me, from well, himself.