Jax (Titan #9)(47)



"Absolutely."

"Good." His arm brushed against hers, and every time it did, she thought about when he'd wrapped it around her, how it had felt when they were alone and lost their clothes. It was as if they suddenly breathed different air.

When Jax acted like this, asked questions, it erased the moments when she was certain that before was a one-time explosion of lust and cravings.

"I want to show you something, Seven. In here." Jax veered them off course as if he knew where they were, and they sidestepped the throngs of tourists shuffling the hall until he reached for the unmarked door. He punched a code on a nondescript pad and twisted the knob.

"Where are—"

Jax slapped her hand away as she reached for the light switch. The dim room was open, and on one side, a glass walk overlooked the main casino.

He put his hands on her hips and guided her. "Two-way mirror. They can't see us with the lights down."

Seven's mind rushed. How did he know this? But then, why question anything about Titan and access?

Jax pressed behind her, hands on her hip bones to hold her in place. The pressure of his thick erection, separated by the layers of clothes, made her dizzy with need. Her breath hitched knowing how easily he could inch the frilly skirt up then slide her underwear to the side.

Jax leaned close, letting his warm breath tease the back of her neck. "Seven?"

"Mmhh?"

His fingers gripped tighter, and she arched, melting at the whisk of his slow teases curling along her sensitive skin.

"Are you wet, princess?" Jax nuzzled behind her ear lobe.

"Yes." Her pussy contracted, desperately needing and silently rejoicing because he was so close.

His strong fingers rubbed from her hip bones to her clothing-covered mound and back. "Are you?"

When a man made from stone said sweet things… She nodded. "Very."

"Everyone out there wants what you'll have." Jax slid down the front of her skirt and played with the hem of her skirt.

"Jax." She swayed her backside against him.

His gravely chuckle rumbled against her ear. "Look at them. Wanting…"

She couldn't see their want. Hers had nearly blinded her. Seven nuzzled her cheek against his lips, finding little satisfaction from the lingering kisses that left her biting her lip.

"Keep watching them." He let go of her skirt, rubbing her legs—squeezing then feathering a slight touch—as he worked up, giving a chaotic tornado of sensations. Harsh. Sweet. Easy. Rough. Until his fingers found the edge of her panties. "They're searching." Jax yanked them down her thighs, making her gasp at the quick move and the cool air rushing against her damp skin. "Look at them all, wanting."

"I want. I don't care about them. You."

He stroked her folds, finally putting pressure on her clit piercings, and Seven bucked back against him, moaning for him to never stop. But he did, and the aftereffects of the bar were short-lived, but the piercing on her hood made her pulse. "I can't take this."

"Yes, you can." His fingers gentled back, methodically stroking until her hips swayed and lips begged, then he teased her clitoris again while kissing the small of her neck.

"Shh—God." She couldn't talk… or think.

Jax dragged his teeth against her skin until sensation overload made her incoherent—he pulled back. "Are you still watching?"

"No," Seven whined.

His fingers slid inside her. "For what you have."

Seven's muscles loosened. Hungry bliss bled into her veins. "Jax…"

He drove into her deep, faster. "God, I missed this tight cunt."

"Please, please, be inside me."

"Fucking hell," he muttered as the belt clinked and condom wrapper tore. "Wasn't my plan."

"Screw your plans."

A moment later, sheathed and urging her legs apart, Jax nuzzled the head of his cock against her as she watched the casino floor. He thrust and stole her mind. Again, spearing her with a blessed intrusion of thick heat, Jax's quick breath stayed at her ear as she cried for more, begging for deeper.

Seven couldn't swallow; her eyes couldn't stay open. "Come with me. I need you to."

A strong arm wrapped around her chest, and his low growl made her quiver. He worked like a machine and pistoned like a steamroller—so fluid, she could've floated, and so perfect, Jax made her climb higher and higher.

"Yes, Jax." The orgasm exploded, and Seven pushed back, needing desperately to hold on to something besides the wall. But she clung to it, riding the wave, the climatic high.

He pinned her to the mirror, straining his climax, muttering a thousand indistinguishable words that sent her mind flying as high as her orgasm until she melted into a limp Jax-held mess.

When her eyelashes fluttered open, she zeroed her focus on a woman on the floor who acted as though she'd won big. Nothing that woman had was as good as Jax.

"It's what they all want," Seven whispered. "And we have it."





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


The smoky hotel suite had the who's who of the US's most wanted gangs. One quick phone call, and Jax would be rolling in the dough of a dozen reward offers. But Boss Man would kick his ass, and then he would have to deal with Deacon Lanes, who likely had each gang member in his most recent call log, before he was ready. There was something super screwed up when the Feds in one branch of government were in bed with the guys that the Feds in another department were trying to nail.

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