Chapter 18 #2
The coil in her lower stomach tightened, her thighs shaking as pleasure built, sharp and unbearable. She twisted away, overwhelmed, but Moe held her firm, his thrusts never faltering.
"No, you don't," he gritted out, fingers pressing harder. "Take it."
The command sent a jolt through her, and she came with a sob, her body clamping down around him, his name a broken syllable on her lips.
He fucked her harder through it, his rhythm turning erratic. Behind the control, he was coming undone, his breath coming in ragged bursts, his fingers digging into her flesh.
"Look at you," he hissed, his voice wrecked. "Taking me so fucking good."
The praise burned hotter than his cock, her cheeks flushing even as her body still trembled from the aftershocks.
Moe's hips stuttered, his thrusts losing their brutal precision as he chased his own release.
He swelled inside her, the hot pulse of him as he groaned, low and guttural, his body slamming into hers one final time before he stilled.
His breath was ragged against her back, his fingers loosening their grip on her hips as he shuddered through the last waves of pleasure.
For a moment, they stayed connected, sweaty, and breathless.
Their uneven breathing and the distant hum of cars driving by the house were the only noise in the room.
Then he pulled out with a slow, slick drag, the loss of him making her whimper. Moe collapsed beside her, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his skin glistening in the daylight coming through the window.
She turned her head to look at him, her lips curving into a lazy smile. "So," she murmured, her voice hoarse, "that's how you pay your debts?"
Moe laughed, a rough, breathless sound, and dragged a hand down his face before turning to face her. His silver eyes looked as if they wanted to devour her all over again. "Nah," he said, his thumb brushing over her swollen lower lip. "Only with you."
The air between them was charged, but softer now, the sharp edges of desire blunted by satisfaction. Jillian stretched, wincing slightly at the ache between her thighs, and Moe's gaze tracked the movement.
"I'm okay." She curled into him, her head resting on his chest.
She traced a finger over his abdomen, her nails catching lightly, and he exhaled through his nose, the sound amused and satisfied.
"You're insatiable," he murmured, catching her wrist and pressing a kiss to the inside of it.
His stubble rasped against her skin, and she shivered, though the room was anything but cold. She laughed and rolled onto her stomach, lifting her head.
He smoothed her hair back from her face. "Do you have to see your mom today?"
She shook her head. "I called earlier to check on her. She's having a bad day and not communicating with anyone. They were able to feed her a few bites and will watch her the rest of the day."
Moe's hand slid up her spine, slow and proprietary, pausing to knead the tension at the base of her neck. "Bike's down. Mom's taken care of. Can't do anything about finding Finn today. Guess we'll have to stay in bed."
"I still have laundry to do, and you need to tell me what size boots you wear, so I can order another pair because those ones are trashed." She shifted to sit up, but Moe's grip on her hip tightened, his fingers pressing into the tender marks he'd left there earlier.
The sting made her breath hitch. Not quite pain, not quite pleasure, just a reminder that she belonged to him.
"It can all wait," he said, voice low, thumb tracing idle circles on her skin.
His other hand slid up to tangle in her hair, tugging just enough to make her tilt her head back.
"You're not going anywhere." The words were a command, but his lips brushing the nape of her neck softened them, the contradiction making her pulse jump.
"Are you serious?" she managed, even as her body arched into his touch.
Moe chuckled, the sound vibrating against her spine.
"I've spent my whole life chasing the horizon, trying to escape, and losing myself.
Then I met you, and for the first time, I knew exactly where I wanted to be.
" His hand slipped between her thighs, fingers slick with her own arousal, and she gasped.
"Babe..." She sighed.
Pleasure exploded inside her chest. She was falling in love with him. Even though, in her head, she argued with herself that she couldn't possibly fall in love with the man who kidnapped her. That he was a wanted man. That he'd done unforgivable things in his past. She knew a different side to Moe.
"Still so wet," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the knobs of her vertebrae.
She reached back blindly, fingers tangling in his hair, her hips rocking against his hand. "You're—" The words dissolved into a moan as his thumb pressed hard against her clit, the pressure just shy of cruel.
"I'm what?" He nipped at her skin, his fingers never stopping their slow, maddening rhythm. "Gonna make you forget your own name?" His other hand slid up her stomach, palming her breast, pinching her nipple until she gasped. "Or maybe you'll scream my name."
Jillian laughed, but the breathless sound caught in her throat and came out as a moan as he curled two fingers inside her, hitting that spot that made her toes curl. Moe's teeth grazed her earlobe, his hips pressing against the back of her thighs, his cock already hard again.
She arched into his touch. He grabbed her hair, dragging her back to expose her throat. His mouth was hot and insistent against her pulse.
"You love what I do to you. He bit down hard enough to make her squirm.
She did. God, she did. The evidence was slick between her thighs, her body bowing into his touch like a plant leaning into the sun. Moe's laugh was dark, satisfied, as if he could hear her thoughts. His fingers twisted deeper, his palm grinding against her clit in slow, deliberate circles.
"Say it," he murmured, his lips trailing up to her ear. "Say you love it."
Jillian's hips jerked, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "I—"
The admission lodged in her throat, tangled with pride and the thrill of defiance she hadn't felt in a long time.
When her teenage years were spent taking care of her mom, scared of losing her, and not knowing how to care for her while barely an adult herself, the confession gave her some control over her life.
Moe's fingers stilled, his grip tightening in her hair. "Say it," he repeated, lower this time, a threat wrapped in velvet.
Moe's fingers curled deeper, his palm grinding against her clit in a way that made her vision blur. Jillian groaned, tipping her head back against Moe's shoulder.
"Say it, sweetheart," he murmured against her ear. His free hand slid up her stomach, fingers splaying possessively over her ribs. "Say it."