Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kira
Jax grips me by the waist and lifts me onto the counter.
My breath catches, but I don’t stop him.
I should. God, I should shove him away, slam my knuckles into his cocky jaw, and tell him exactly how much I don’t want him.
But my hands don’t listen. My body betrays me as if he isn’t a man who kills for a living.
His eyes search mine like he’s looking for a sign, but I have nothing except a heating ache.
Everything’s crumbling. My life is a fucking landslide. There was just a detective at my door asking about the man we lit on fire, and instead of clawing my way out, I’m letting the most dangerous man I know drag me deeper.
He steps between my legs, and I suck in a breath.
This is insane.
This is reckless and stupid and exactly what I should be avoiding right now.
But then his hand slides up my thigh, and my back arches.
“You should go,” I try as my knees part wider, inviting him closer.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, fingers curling into my waistband as if he’s holding back from tearing them off.
My hands fist in his shirt before I can stop them, pulling him closer, my body making the calls. Maybe it is. Maybe I’m not in my right mind.
“You’re a mistake,” I say, even as my legs wrap around him.
“So make it twice,” he says, and then he kisses me.
And I let him.
Because the truth is, I am falling apart.
But Jax’s mouth feels like salvation, and everything else is disappearing at the taste of him.
The house. Marshal. Nellie. Nix. Prison.
The fact that my whole life is circling the drain.
All of it gets swallowed by the way he kisses me—like he’s angry I’ve kept him at arm’s length, like he’s punishing me for pretending I didn’t want this.
I like it.
His hands slide under my thighs and yank me to the edge of the counter. I gasp as he takes full advantage, deepening the kiss until I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t remember why the hell I ever told myself this was a bad idea. Because it is. But I don’t care.
I thread my fingers into his hair and yank hard, dragging a groan out of him that lights something feral in my chest. He pulls back just enough to look at me—really look—and whatever he sees in my face makes his pupils blow wide.
His hands slide under my shirt, rough palms dragging up my ribs like he’s claiming me with his fingertips. My head drops back as he mouths down my neck, teeth grazing my skin.
“You drive me fucking insane,” he mutters into my throat, sucking a bruise right below my jaw.
“Good,” I hiss, grinding against him.
He growls, one hand shooting to the back of my neck, pulling my face back to his.
“Don’t tempt me, Kira. You already owe me five-hundred thousand dollars, remember? I won’t hesitate to take your body as payment.”
“Don’t let me stop you.”
That’s all it takes—he snaps.
His mouth finds mine again, messier this time. Less kissing, more consuming. Hands everywhere. Shirt lifted. Fingertips dragging across my bare skin. I tug at his waistband, fingers slipping under the hem, and he bites back a curse against my lips.
“Tell me to stop,” he pants, forehead pressed to mine, and I’m disappointed to hear him give me an out.
I drag my nails down his back. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
He doesn’t.
One hand wraps around the back of my neck, holding me in place as he rips his belt loose with the other. The leather snaps and my breath stutters.
He sees it and leans in, dragging his mouth down my jaw, his voice wrecked with uncertainty. “You’re shaking.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are,” he whispers against my skin. “And I don’t think your heart can take this.”
Me either. But I don’t tell him that. I want this, and he’s already stripping me and pushing my knees apart as if he owns the space between them. Like he owns me.
Maybe he does. I do owe him five-hundred thousand dollars.
My body doesn’t know the difference between fear and lust, between pain and need. All I know is that I need him inside me like I need air. I need to forget everything that’s soon to come crashing down.
He frees himself and lines up, looking at me from under his brow—one last confirmation.
I nod.
He slams into me with no warning, deep and brutal, and I cry out, gripping the edge of the counter.
“Still think I’m not here for the same reason?” he growls, thrusting again, sharper this time.
I gasp, head falling back in pleasure, and laugh, high on his cock. “Fuck you.”
“Doing that already.” I can hear the smirk in his words. “And you’re welcome.”
He drags my hips to the edge, giving himself more room, more leverage. Each thrust is harder than the last, punishing and precise. His fingers dig into my thighs, bruising me. Marking me. And I can’t get enough.
“I hate you,” I pant.
“Lie.”
“I do—”
“Then why are you soaking for me?” He slams into me again, and I arch, choking on the moan I try to bite back. “Why are you clenching around me?”
“I don’t—” my voice breaks as he presses deeper, his pace slowing.
His body thrums, taut with tension as I feel the push and pull of every inch of him.
“You’re going to be mine, Kira.” His voice is a whisper against my mouth, almost tender. “You can lie all you want, but your body won’t.”
And it doesn’t.
It gives. Breaks. Shatters.
I cum with a sob caught in my throat, my body locking up as heat explodes in my core and rips through me.
He doesn’t stop. Not until he’s there with me—buried so deep I can’t tell where I end and he begins, his breath ragged against my neck as he lets go with a guttural, broken sound that makes my stomach flip as he fills me up.