Chapter 15 #2
The moment his tongue touched mine again, pleasure shot through me like lightning, electric and all-consuming.
He tasted like mint and desire and everything I’d ever wanted, and I was addicted after just one taste.
My arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer, trying to eliminate any space between us.
If this was a test, I was determined to get an A+, to be the best student he’d ever had.
Look at you, overachiever. As if your GPA matters in bed.
Between us, that honey-sweet scent grew stronger, almost tangible in the air we shared.
It wasn’t coming from any cologne or product—it seemed to be coming from me, which made absolutely no sense.
I didn’t wear cologne or scented products.
Wei was always complaining that I should use more deodorant, not less.
So where was this scent coming from? And why did it seem to intensify whenever Jaxson touched me in a way that made my toes curl?
His hand on me was creating a feedback loop of pleasure—each stroke sending waves of heat through my body, each wave making me kiss him more deeply, each kiss making him stroke me more firmly.
I was caught in an endless cycle of give and take, pleasure feeding pleasure until I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began.
With every stroke of his hand, that strange warmth between us grew stronger, like an invisible current running between our bodies.
It wasn’t just physical pleasure—it felt deeper, more fundamental, like something ancient awakening from a long sleep.
Like our bodies were remembering something our minds had forgotten.
By the time he pulled back, I was trembling, breathless, my lips feeling deliciously bruised and tingling from his attention.
His eyes were dark pools of want as he stared down at me, pupils blown wide with desire, and suddenly Bree’s romance novels didn’t seem so unrealistic anymore.
People really did look at each other like that, like they were starving and the other person was a feast.
“Lan?” His voice was rough, strained, like he was holding himself back from something. He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring slightly as if catching a scent that affected him deeply. Was he smelling that same honey-sweet fragrance I was? “Do you want me to stop?”
Stop? Was he insane? Here I was, finally in his arms, with his taste on my lips and his body pressed against mine in all the right ways.
The thought of stopping now was like asking Nico to quit gaming cold turkey—absolute torture.
Especially when every cell in my body was screaming for more, when that strange connection between us was humming with energy, begging to be completed.
“No,” I breathed, my fingers digging into his shoulders like they were my personal anchor to reality, the only thing keeping me from floating away on a sea of sensation.
“Please, I want more. Consider this my formal application for Advanced Lessons in… everything.” I was begging and I didn’t care.
Pride had taken one look at the situation and gone on permanent vacation to a place with better survival odds.
His hand came up to cup my face, his thumb tracing my lower lip like he was mapping out territory for future exploration.
The tenderness in his touch made my heart attempt a complicated gymnastic routine, while the rest of me felt hot enough to trigger every smoke alarm in the building.
I leaned into his palm like a touch-starved cat, my brain short-circuiting faster than Nico’s attention span during a documentary.
“Lan,” he whispered, my name on his lips sounding like both a prayer and a curse. His voice had dropped to that dangerous octave that should come with a warning label: Caution, May Cause Spontaneous Combustion.
The raw vulnerability in his voice caught me off guard. This was Jaxson—composed, confident Jaxson who always knew what to do, who never seemed rattled by anything. Yet here he was, looking at me like I held his heart in my hands, like I could break him with a word.
Before I could stammer out something embarrassingly honest, his lips were on mine again, and holy shit—if his earlier kisses were the trailer, this was definitely the main feature.
This was the full director’s cut with bonus scenes, and I was here for it.
I melted faster than ice cream in July, opening my mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world.
This kiss was different—deeper, hungrier, more demanding. His tongue stroked against mine with purpose, no longer teaching but claiming. One of his hands tangled in my hair, tilting my head back to give him better access, while the other slid down my body with possessive intent.
My entire world narrowed down to the feeling of Jaxson’s mouth on mine, like someone had hit the pause button on everything else.
Each kiss felt better than finding money in a forgotten pocket, and I was definitely going for the jackpot.
My fingers found their way into his hair, holding on like he was my personal lifeline in this ocean of overwhelming sensations.
Then his hand started sliding down my body, and if I thought I was malfunctioning before, this was full system crash territory.
When those clever fingers wrapped around my cock again, my hips jerked up like I’d been shocked by faulty wiring.
He swallowed my embarrassing sounds, his strokes getting more confident, more demanding, like he was on a mission to destroy what was left of my sanity.
My brain was trying to multitask—focus on the kissing, process the touching, remember how to breathe—and failing worse than Colt attempting to understand Nico’s jokes.
Jaxson’s hand knew exactly what it was doing, like he had some kind of blueprint to my pleasure, and I was rapidly approaching the point of no return.
That strange warmth between us had transformed into something almost tangible now, a connection that seemed to strengthen with each shared breath, each stroke of his hand, each press of his lips against mine.
The honey-sweet scent was everywhere, so strong it was like we were swimming in it.
It intensified with every touch, every kiss, every shared breath.
Each time Jaxson’s hand stroked me, the scent pulsed stronger, like it was responding to our pleasure.
A few small flickers of what almost looked like golden light danced at the edges of my vision, there and gone so quickly I was sure I’d imagined them.
Great, now I’m seeing things. Maybe pleasure-induced hallucinations are a real medical condition.
It had to be the pleasure, the intensity of sensation—not something supernatural or magical. That would be crazy, right?
“Jaxson,” I gasped between kisses, my voice sounding about as stable as a house of cards in a windstorm. “Please…”
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes darker than midnight.
But around the edges of his irises, that amber-gold still glowed, like banked coals waiting to ignite.
He inhaled deeply again, his eyes momentarily closing in what looked like pleasure before snapping open to focus on me with renewed intensity.
“Please what, Lan?” His thumb swept over the sensitive head of my cock, spreading the wetness gathered there, and my entire body jerked like I’d been electrocuted. “Tell me what you need.”
“You,” I breathed, too far gone to care about my dignity—which had probably fled the scene hours ago anyway. Way to go, Lan. Might as well skywrite Hopelessly in Love with My Stepbrother across Manhattan at this point. “I need you. I’ve always needed you.”
Something shifted in his expression, an emotion more complex than Colt’s morning protein shake recipe.
It was wonder and hunger and possessiveness all rolled into one overwhelming look.
He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine as his hand continued its mission to destroy what was left of my sanity.
His breath mingled with mine, hot and intimate, and I swear even the air between us felt charged with electricity.
“I’m here,” he murmured, his words ghosting across my lips like a promise. “I’ve got you, Lan. I’ve always had you. Just let go.”
I tried to keep some semblance of control, to show off all my newly acquired kissing skills like a proper student, but my body had other ideas. The pleasure was building faster than Wei’s conspiracy theories during a power outage, each stroke of Jaxson’s hand pushing me closer to the edge.
My cock throbbed in his grip, harder than I’d ever been in my life.
Every nerve ending was on fire, every muscle tense with anticipation.
The pressure was building at the base of my spine, hot and insistent, ready to explode.
That golden warmth between us was reaching a crescendo, like something ancient and powerful was about to break free.
“Jaxson,” I moaned into his mouth, my voice doing things that would make my future self die of embarrassment. So much for maintaining any shred of dignity. “I can’t… I’m going to…”
“Let go for me,” he whispered, claiming my mouth again like he was starving for the taste. His hand moved faster, grip tightening just enough to send me spiraling. “Show me how good it feels.”