Chapter Fifty-Eight
Kira
It feels kind of pointless to change into pajamas for cover, considering the only pajamas I have are brand new and definitely feel suspicious.
Rubbing the material between my fingers, they feel like something I would wear to a ball instead of to bed, like I’ve picked out the nicest thing knowing that the house was going to burn down.
“I’ll buy you more.”
I turn to find Jax leaning against the door frame, as if he’s been watching me toil over the silk set.
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” I say and set it down.
“Then tell me what you’re worried about, and I’ll fix it.”
“You fixing it is what worries me.” I raise a brow. It all seems very obvious to me, hanging by a thread of corruption in the system. Regardless how many times Jax and Caleb say, it’s what they can prove, not what it looks like, I still have my sister’s life hanging in the balance.
“You doubt my abilities?” He grabs his chest in mock hurt, bowing over as he stumbles into the room.
I don’t know how he’s able to joke right now, or smile in a way that makes my skin flush.
God, he’s radiant for being about to commit a crime, or maybe it’s the crime that makes him radiant.
His dark hair lands perfectly over his forehead, disheveled just so, and his eyes actually shine.
And I’m awful for wanting him when a body lays one floor beneath us.
“If we’re talking about burning the house down, then no,” I say.
“I know all too well how good you are at that.” I manage to glare at him despite how tempting he looks.
“But if we’re talking about convincing a police force that it was accidental and that your father wasn’t shot…
” I bob my head back and forth, “then yes.”
“That’s the easy part.” His eyes flash with excitement.
“Because you own Landon Enterprises now?” The idea that he’s now the head of a prominent law firm is hard to wrap my head around. The fact that one word from him can make things go away.
“We’re untouchable, buttercup.” He plants his hands on my hips and sways me, as if he’s drunk on the thought.
“You’re in way too good of a mood right now.” I bat at him.
He freezes as if the unheard music has paused, his brows hardening.
“Because I get to keep you,” he says, his voice so earnest, his gaze sweeping hungrily across my face.
“You have no idea how terrified I was that Layton was going to get away with putting you behind bars, out of my reach.” He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, and then gives a sly smirk.
“I mean, I would have burned down the prison to get you out, but still.”
I can’t help but laugh, his optimism contagious. “Now, that I don’t doubt.”
“Yeah?” He suddenly hoists me up. “What else don’t you doubt?”
I instinctively wrap my legs around him, gasping. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you look freshly fucked for when the police arrive.”
“Jax! No—We’re—That—” I flail for an excuse even as my body heats up.
“We’re what?” He chuckles as he lays me down on the bed, caging me between his arms.
I don’t get a word out before he presses between my legs, the full length of him hard and throbbing. An involuntary moan escapes me, and I arch up for more.
“That’s what I thought,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head with one hand.
The plains of his chest ripple, the ink taut over his pecs.
Unable to resist, I run my hands down him, his skin hot to the touch, and I suddenly don’t give a fuck what’s downstairs.
I shed my own shirt, and he helps me tug down my pants.
It’s heedless, inappropriate, but God if he isn’t exuding something that makes me feral.
I latch the inner of my thighs around the hard cut of his waist, relishing the sting of heat as he undoes his zipper beneath my legs.
“Look at you,” he says. “So eager all the sudden.”
I hate the blush that burns my cheeks.
“Look at you,” I counter. “So cocky all the time.”
“I’ll show you cocky.” He smiles broadly and dips between my legs.
His breath is suddenly hot on my clit. And damn it if I ache for it and arch again, practically begging to feel his tongue and proving his point.
His mouth hovers though, not immediately diving in, and I squirm for it as the bastard waits, clearly enjoying the tremble in my thighs.
My hands fist in the sheets, and agitation mixes with need.
“Jax,” I try for a reprimand, but it comes out more pleading.
“Say you trust me.”
If I wasn’t so feral, I would roll my eyes, but he has me just where he wants me, needy and at his mercy.
“I trust you,” I say, anything to get him to indulge me, but it isn’t a complete artifice.
I do trust him, fully believe he would do something insane like burn down a prison for me, what I don’t trust is the situation.
“Like you mean it, baby.” He grazes his bottom lip over my slit.
My body tenses, and I squirm. “I trust you.”
He grazes again, this time slower. “Try again.”
It’s agony, the way his lip drags up, smearing the wetness I’ve made for him. I’m teeming, vibrating in anticipation.
“I trust you,” I cry out. “I trust you. Please.”
His tongue finally touches me and I gasp, hips jerking.
He pins them down, palms keeping me open to him.
Heat floods my veins, and the world narrows to his mouth, the sound of him breathing me in, the hungry laps and swipes of his tongue.
I’m reduced to nothing but pleasure as he works.
He uses every tool at his arsenal, his lips sucking, his teeth nipping, his tongue swirling, his breath cascading.
I sit up on my elbows to watch. His lips are glistening as he licks, the broad frame of his cut shoulders splaying me wide open. I’m a decadent spread for him, one he feasts on as if starving.
But it’s not fair.
I bring a leg up and press my foot against his shoulder, shoving him away before I come undone.
He looks displeased as he stands, but I maneuver onto my knees at the edge of the bed, gazing up at him beneath my lashes.
The annoyance of my interruption melts into something else as I open my mouth for him.
He groans as I wrap my hand around his shaft and bring the tip of his cock to my lips.
Spreading the droplet on his head across my lips, I let the salty tang seep into my mouth.
There’s something emboldening about the fact that he’s dripping from just tasting me, and I bring him into my mouth to have more of it. He’s so large I have to lower my jaw, crane my neck back. He presses against the back of my throat, and I whimper as I try to take all of him.
“Jesus. Fucking. Christ,” he groans.
I shimmy my tongue back and forth under his shaft, feeding on the throb and pulse of him.
But for as hard as he is, for how much he’s vibrating with pleasure, his fingertips are gentle as they sweep the hair from my cheek.
Pushing it back, he threads his fingers through until he’s cupping the back of my head.
With soft pressure, he makes me take him deeper.
I don’t resist, wanting him to find release in me, wanting to give him anything he wants. But he doesn’t leave me wanting either.
He palms the space between my legs with his free hand, slipping down to cup me and then dragging a finger between my slit. I moan around his cock as he finds my clit and starts rubbing. I rock forward into it and when I pull back to suck, he leans with me.
We’re a frenzy of hunger.
I can feel myself dripping onto the inner of my thighs, my ecstasy building. And Jax is right behind me. His hand fists in my hair, his body becoming more rigid, his thrusts deeper and less controlled.
I clamp my thighs around his hand and cry out just as his cock pulses in my mouth. Hot cum shoots down the back of my throat. Greedy, I swallow it as I ride out my orgasm, squeezing my eyes shut.
When I finally look up, Jax is smirking down at me, that cocky curve of his lips well deserved this time.
“Kira Noland,” he drawls, pulling free and brushing his thumb over my lip like he’s claiming the last trace of him. His voice drops into something that makes my chest ache. “I fucking love you.”