Jax (Titan #9)(62)

"Jax!" She pretended to strangle him and followed up with a gentle kiss on his lips.

Jax eased her onto the pillows then stole his hands away. "Let me use it."

"The rope?"

He barely nodded. "Just like you were before. On your back. Your boot over my shoulder."

"And you'll"—her eyes darted—"tie me to the bed?"

"No. Nothing like that." He walked his fingers up her arm and pushed strands of hair off her cheek. "Close your eyes and listen."

Seven's eyes fluttered. "Listening…"

Jax drifted the rough pads of his fingers along her jawline as though she were fragile then scratched his close-trimmed nails down her neck, gliding across her collarbone and rounding over her breast. His electricity stayed after he continued, skimming to her belly. "Let your mind drift."

She floated into a hazy dreamland. The faint alcohol buzz from earlier mixed with the warmth of arousal. "Drifting."

Jax gripped her hip bone. "Good girl."

"I like that, Jax." A tingle of awe branched down her spine. "How you said that."

His agreement rumbled, and both of his hands massaged her legs, first the one closest to him, then the leg opposite his side, kneading the muscle to butter. "Bend like this."

He angled the leg opposite him so that her ankle reached toward the edge of the bed, slightly bending to make her knee-high boot form a wide V. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good." Her right leg remained straight, and his hands stayed on her left leg, one hand holding her kneecap and the other at her ankle.

Seven's eyes opened as Jax feathered his hand up her thighs, and she propped onto her elbows. "My boots are hot."

His hand dipped between her legs, stroking her sex. "I don't give a fuck about the boots. They're only a prop to the main attraction, princess." Then he winked. "But a very hot prop."

She laughed quietly and arched at the pressure on her clit. "What now?"

"Now, you're not in charge. Lay back." He left her sensitive skin, tracing down her leg, up to her hip bone, over her belly to circle the base of her breast and draw slowly toward the tip.

"Please, Jax," she whispered.

He ignored her nipples, moving to her collarbone and then neck.

Seven huffed and wriggled her hips. She needed his touch but realized that he had his own agenda. Rushing Jax would slow hers down.

His hand threaded into her hair—oh, God, she loved that—and a shaking gasp pulled free as he wrapped her hair around his fist. She willed him to pull it, but he didn't. He simply gathered it into a ponytail.

"I'm going to tie this"—he gave a light tug on her ponytail—"to this." Then squeezed gently on her ankle. "Thoughts?"

A tidal wave of anticipation rocketed through her. Anxiety. Excitement. Nervousness. Peace. "Please."

The quietest, most gentle smile she'd ever seen touched his eyes before it played on his lips. It stayed for a fraction of that thought, and her heart swelled knowing that one word had made him happy.

"Stay still." That marked the arrival of a wolf. Jax's nostrils flared as he ran the lengths of rope through his hands. His jaw flexed. The tendons in his neck strained when he took a deep breath, and Seven knew he was hungry. But true to Jax fashion, he wouldn't devour her until she climaxed and climaxed and then he made it happen again.

With the rope held in his hand and the bottle of lube and condom placed by his side, Jax asked, "Anything you want to say?"

She blinked, aware of how light she felt, then listened to the silence surround them. "Make this feeling last forever."

"What does it feel like?"

"Like I can fly."

His hands whisked over her like an air kiss. "You'll soar."

Jax eased over to the other side of the bed and gathered hair into a makeshift ponytail. He wrapped the rope around once, twice, and then three times before trailing the end down and pulling it through her hair again, repeating the process and pulling through a second time.

Seven giggled this time as she relaxed, and the now-shorter ends tickled her back. "If Titan doesn't work out, you could be a hairdresser."

"You're going to be so impressed." The playfulness in his voice set her at ease as, again, Jax wrapped the rope around her hair and pulled it through. "That was the last time."

He gave a light tug then a firmer one then dropped his lips to the top of her head. "I like this, princess."

She licked her lip, resisting the rope that he held. "Me too."

"Face your head toward the right." He tucked a pillow under her neck then slid his hands over her straight leg, as though she needed the reminder. "Right leg stays straight." Then walked to the base of the bed and grasped her ankle. He folded the rope then wound it over her leather boot, weaving above and below the heel, taking time to make sure the ends were even at the top and bottom with every twist. "Too tight?"

"No." Her pulse raced. "Perfect."

She heard the ends of the rope fall to the bed. Every ounce of self-control was called to keep her head in place until she floated away from worrying about what he was going to do to just feeling his hands caress her legs.