Chapter 9 Jinx #2
His hands run all over my body like he's memorizing it, tracing scars and tattoos and the places where I'm sensitive. His fingers linger on the fresh scar at my side, the place where a bullet almost ended everything. He kisses it, gentle, reverent, and my throat goes tight.
"Still here," I whisper.
"Still here," he agrees.
My mouth finds his throat, his collarbone, the spot behind his ear that makes him shiver. I learn the sounds he makes when I touch him right. The sharp intake of breath when I scrape my teeth over his nipple. The low groan when my hand wraps around his cock.
"Jinx." His voice is rough, “You’re so fucking good, so fucking hot, yeah, fuck. Just like that.”
"Tell me what you want."
"You. Inside me. Right fucking now.”
I take my time preparing him. Slick fingers working him open, one then two then three, watching his face for every reaction, every gasp, every flutter of his lashes. His cock is hard against his stomach, leaking, and his hips rock into my touch like he can't help himself.
"More," he demands. "I need more."
"I gotta do it slow or it’ll hurt."
"Fuck patience. Let it hurt.”
I position myself at his hole, hold his gaze. "Look at me. Don't you dare fucking close your eyes."
He looks. And what's written there steals my breath.
Trust. Want. The same overwhelming emotion that's been building in my chest for weeks, reflected back at me.
When I finally push inside, we both groan.
Tight. Hot. Perfect. The feeling of being surrounded by him, held by him, connected in the most intimate way possible. His body opens for me, welcomes me, and I hold still, letting us both adjust. Letting the enormity of this wash over us.
"Move," he breathes. "Please."
I move.
Slow, deep thrusts that make him arch off the bed. His legs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer, deeper. His hands grip my shoulders, nails digging in. Not drawing blood this time, just holding on.
I kiss him as I fuck him. Swallow his moans, taste his pleasure. Our bodies find a rhythm, give and take, push and pull. The bed creaks beneath us. The headboard taps against the wall. Somewhere outside, the world keeps turning, but in here there's only this.
"Jinx. God, Jinx."
"I've got you." The words come out rough, broken. "I've got you. I'm not letting go."
I wrap my hand around his cock, stroking him. He keens, head falling back, throat exposed. I bite down, not hard enough to break skin, just hard enough to mark. Just hard enough to leave proof that this happened. That we happened.
Mine. The thought blazes through me, hot and possessive. Mine.
"Come for me," I tell him. "Let go. I've got you."
He does. His whole body seizes, cock pulsing in my hand, ass clenching around me, his mouth open on a silent cry. The pressure sends me over the edge too, and I bury myself deep, filling him, my vision whiting out as the orgasm tears through me.
We collapse together. Sticky, sweaty, satisfied. My cock softens inside him, but I don't pull out. I want to stay connected as long as possible.
Neither of us speaks. Just breathing. Just being. Just existing in the aftermath of something that felt like more than sex.
"Damn… that was hot. Intense as fuck, but hot.”
"Yeah." I chuckle.
"Different."
"Good different?"
"Very good different." He turns his head, presses a kiss to my temple. His lips are soft against my skin. "What changed? I thought you’d fuck the shit out of me… no pun intended."
"I wanted to love you."
"Love, huh? Didn’t wanna say that before, and here you are, your cum leaking out my asshole, saying you love me.”
I roll my eyes and then hold his gaze. "I'm not going anywhere, Asher. Not running, not hiding, not pretending this doesn't matter. You're stuck with me."
His smile is slow, warm. "Is that a promise?"
"It's a threat. Every lifetime, every heaven, every hell… I will find you."
He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest. "I can live with that."
"Good." I lean down, kiss him again. Soft this time. Tender. The kind of kiss I didn't know I was capable of until him. "Because you don't have a choice."
We stay like that for a while, tangled together, stealing moments before the world crashes back in. His hand traces lazy patterns on my back. My head rests on his chest, rising and falling with his breathing. The light has shifted, casting new shadows across the room.
"We should shower," he says eventually. "Briefing in an hour."
"Probably."
Neither of us moves.
"Jinx?"
"Mm?"
"I love you too. In case that wasn't clear."
My heart stutters. It's one thing to know. Another to hear it said out loud.
"It was clear," I manage. "But it's nice to hear."
"I'll say it more often, then." He presses a kiss to my hair. "Every day, if you want."
"Don't get sappy on me, Madden."
"Too late. You're stuck with a sap, sweet pea." His arms tighten around me. "Now come on. Shower. We've got children to save and bad guys to kill."
"Romantic."
"I try."
We disentangle ourselves, reluctantly. The shower is quick, practical, but he still finds time to kiss me under the water, to press me against the tile and remind me what we have.
What we're fighting for.