Jax (Titan #9)(63)

The mattress dipped when he eased next to her, and she smiled, opening her eyes to see him on the other pillow. Her hair and ankle were still tied. Not together. But what the hell, because years' worth of conversation was passing in the quiet while his fingers skimmed her body.

A strand of hair had avoided his ponytail, and he tucked it behind her ear. "If you want to hand over whatever burdens you, I'll take that weight when I'm in control of you."

Invisible weights eased with his every word. "It's yours."

Jax nodded and took the pink bottle of lubricant, and he drizzled a pattern over her chest, watching as it fell from inches above. The cool contact made her shiver.

"Like before, princess. Hands on your chest." His breathing deepened. Satisfaction colored his eyes darker. Jax placed the bottle on the nightstand leaned over to gather the rope. He deftly corrected her leg's angle and brought the lines together, pulling her ankle and hair.

Jax tested the tautness and sat back, and Seven tested the connection. Her thighs were spread, and that unexpected vulnerability flashed through her as much as it intensified her arousal.

"The more you move your leg, the more your hair is pulled. The harder I press down on your thighs, the greater the tension."

Her pussy clenched at the immediate thought of him buried deep insider her, thrusting and forcing her thighs apart, hair pulling with every stroke. Seven's breath shook.

He kissed her stomach, wasting no time as he headed to her spread legs. Jax licked her with a satisfied groan, and Seven quivered. Before was heaven, but this was a tornado of expert finesse. His lips surrounded her clit as his fingers entered her.

"Jax." Her hips wriggled, and Seven thrashed her head to the side, unexpectedly catching her foot. The rope pulled as hard as she had pushed, and near-orgasm-level spikes of pain and relief surprised her when she flexed her leg back. "Oh God."

Her sensitive skin clenched against Jax. He never slowed, and his strong tongue stroked, his fingers thrust. Seven arched and angled, squeezing her breasts as a sheen of sweat broke out at the back of her neck.

Arousal like this had never been so consuming, as though she were breathing fire from within. She rocked as he rubbed her clit and spread her legs wider. His fingers drifted to the tight, exposed hole. Her mind screamed please as her hips rocked, and her pussy rejoiced in the pulsing heat of his powerful lips and tongue.

"More. Jax, I need you."

She wasn't supposed to call the shots, but she didn't care. Another second without him was too long.

He sat up as she hummed on the edge, and the crinkle of a condom tearing open made her blood boil with lust.

He untied the hair and boot binding then unzipped her boots, slid them off, and stretched her angled leg. "You're good?"

"Yes," she said, hearing her arousal.

"Good." He reached for the ends of the hair tie, then he took her wrists that had fallen slack from her breasts, formed a column with her forearms, and quickly wrapped the length secure, binding her hands and hair. "Still good?"

"God, yes."

He seated himself between her legs, his hot-steeled tip nudging at her entrance. "Fuck, you're beautiful, Seven."

"I needed this. So much," she whispered, tears in her eyes.

Jax thrust into her as he dropped close to her ear. "Good girl."

Every inch of his thick shaft impaled her, and she prayed that brilliant pain and pressure, the delicious stretching burn and growl and groan in her ear would never end. Her thighs wrapped around his backside.

Jax pistoned into her, giving her nothing but animalistic thrusts and grunts that promised she would never be the same. His kisses mapped her neck. Sweet. Biting. Licking. Loving. Marking. And Seven bucked to meet his stride, wanting to wrap her arms around him, struggling for that hold, gasping as the sting in her scalp, and crying in thanks that he had given her that. She wanted this—to live, to feel, to be needed. This was everything and had been nothing she even knew could exist.

"Please," Seven crooned in his ear with each powerful fuck coming again and again. Her orgasm teetered on the edge of so perfect it would hurt.

"Come with me," Jax's primal growl ordered.

"Yeah," she cried, falling over the edge as he tensed.

His arms wrapped Seven tight, protected from the world as she pulsed around him, grinding for more, rocking her clit against him. Jax strained, deep inside her, nuzzling her neck and panting her name.

Their thundering breaths and pulsing bodies collapsed into loose limbs, and he reached up, not moving his face that was buried in her neck, and untied her wrists, loosening the bindings in her hair.

Seven shrugged her hands free so she could drape them over his back in a hug. Together, they stayed a sweat-tangled mix of arms and legs, seesawing heartbeats, and unaimed kisses.

Jax finally rolled off and tucked her close. "What's the verdict?"

She snorted. "Thumbs-up."

"Anything else?"

"I'm…" Seven cuddled to his side. "Really hungry."

He laughed. "It was a workout. Room service?"

There was so much to see and do in life. What else had she missed? "Maybe I should get out more?"





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE


Seven's stomach grumbled, and she slapped her hands over it as Jax propped himself up with a pillow. He moved the empty champagne bottle to the nightstand and hooked his arm around her, pulling her to his chest.