Chapter Eighteen #2
My knuckles grazed her skin as I slowly worked the stubborn metal up her spine. Each touch sent electricity through me, and I felt her shiver in response.
"There," I hummed, my voice barely above a whisper. But I didn't step back. I couldn't. The urge to press my lips to that junction where her neck met her shoulder was overwhelming.
"Thank you," she breathed, but when she tried to turn around, I caught her shoulders gently, keeping her facing away from me.
"Not yet," I murmured, my thumbs stroking over her collarbones where they were exposed above the dress. "You look so beautiful in this dress, Estelle.”
She shivered again, and instead of stepping back, I pressed even closer, using my body to guide her deeper into the cramped bathroom.
My chest pressed against her back as I reached behind me, kicking the door mostly closed with my foot. The soft click echoed in the small space, sealing us in together.
"Jax?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Shh," I breathed against her ear, my hands sliding down to rest on her shoulders.
The emerald silk was cool beneath my palms, but I could feel the heat of her skin radiating through the expensive fabric.
"You look like a princess. Like my princess.”
My lips found the spot where her neck met her shoulder, pressing a soft kiss there that made her gasp. The little gasp went straight to my cock, which was probably already leaking in my pants .
I kissed along the curve of her shoulder, tasting the sweetness of her skin, breathing in that intoxicating scent that was purely her.
“How are you real?” I breathed against her neck, my voice rough with want. “Someone so beautiful can’t be real.”
I was drunk on her scent.
My hands moved slowly, sliding down from her shoulders to rest just below her collarbones. I could feel her rapid breathing and how her body trembled under my touch.
I lowered my palms and cupped her breasts through the fabric of the dress.
They felt perfect beneath my hands—small, delicate, absolutely perfect. The Dior fabric was soft against my palms as I held her, not squeezing, just encompassing her completely.
Her body went rigid, and I felt her sharp intake of breath, the way she tried to pull away slightly, but there was nowhere to go in the cramped bathroom.
My hands completely engulfed her breasts, and I could feel her self-consciousness in the way she tensed, the way her shoulders hunched forward as if trying to hide from me.
"Don't," I murmured against her ear, drunk on all of her. "Don't hide these little tits from me, princess."
My thumbs found her nipples through the fabric, tracing slow, deliberate circles over the pebbled peaks.
The fabric was thin enough that I could feel them hardening under my touch, responding to the gentle pressure of my thumbs as they moved in lazy, hypnotic circles.
“Fuck,” I groaned against her neck, my arousal pressing insistently against her lower back. She had to feel how hard she made me, how desperate I was for her. "You're killing me, Estelle."
My thumbs continued their torturous dance, applying just enough pressure to make her breath hitch, then lightening the touch until she was straining toward me, seeking more contact.
The silk grew warm under my touch, her nipples becoming more pronounced with each pass of my thumbs .
"I'm not—they're not—" she stammered, embarrassed about her size.
“You’re perfect," I cut her off, my thumbs pressing more firmly against her nipples, circling them deliberately. "They're fucking perfect."
I felt the exact moment she began to melt. Her breathing grew shallow, her body slowly relaxing back against my chest as my thumbs continued their sensual circles. The way her nipples responded to my touch, hardening into tight peaks that I could feel even through the fabric, had me drunk on her.
"You've never been touched like this, yeah?” I whispered, pressing my lips to the side of her neck below her ear.
She shook her head, unable to speak, and I groaned at the admission.
"Good," I growled, my lips moving along the column of her throat while my thumbs traced figure-eights over her nipples, alternating between firm pressure and feather-light touches that made her whimper.
“No one else will ever get to touch you like this. Only me."
I pulled one hand away from her breast, and immediately she whimpered at the loss, her body arching back toward me, seeking my touch.
Her hands reached behind her, fingers grasping desperately for my wrist. “Come back,” she pleaded, but I had other plans.
I caught her chin with my fingers, tilting her face up until our eyes met in the bathroom mirror. The sight that greeted me nearly brought me to my knees.
There I stood behind her—six-foot-four of golden muscle, my hair perfectly tousled, blue eyes dark with hunger. The harsh bathroom lighting caught every defined line of my chest and shoulders through my suit. I looked like a fucking god, and she looked like the only treasure this god worshipped.
Estelle’s eyes were wide and dazed, filled with desire. Her lips were parted, swollen from where she'd been biting them closed .
The emerald silk hugged her body, revealing the delicate curve of her spine, and how her small breasts rose and fell rapidly with each shallow breath.
"Look at us," I breathed, my voice rough with want. "Look how perfect you are in my hands."
Her gaze met mine in the mirror, and I saw the exact moment shock gave way to something darker, hungrier. She was becoming wanton under my touch, and the knowledge sent fire through my veins.
Slowly, I slid my hand beneath the emerald strap at her shoulder. My fingers traced the gentle swell of her breast, mapping every inch of soft skin as I moved lower. The fabric was thin, but feeling her bare flesh beneath my palm was everything.
“Oh,” she breathed, watching my hand move beneath the dress in the mirror.
My fingers found the peak of her breast, and finally, finally, I felt her bare nipple against my fingertip. It was soft, delicate, already pebbled with arousal. The sensation of skin against skin sent a jolt straight to my cock.
I groaned, my hips jerking forward involuntarily, pressing my hard length against her lower back. The contact made us both moan softly.
I watched our reflection with half-closed eyes, mesmerized by the sight of my large hand moving beneath the silk, by the way her face contorted with pleasure.
Her head fell back against my shoulder as I rolled her nipple between my fingers, and a soft, pretty moan escaped her lips.
"You love it,” I told her against her neck, my voice strained.
Her eyes fluttered closed, but I caught her chin again, forcing her to look.
"Watch," I commanded. "You love this feeling, yeah, princess? You love my big hands feeling up your little nipples?"
Her breath hitched, blissed out as she stared at our reflection. "Yes," she whispered, the admission barely audible .
"Say it again,” I growled, my thumb pressing more firmly against her nipple, rolling it between my fingers.
"It feels—it feels so good," she moaned, her back arching into my touch. "Your hands are so rough, and I?—"
"You what?" I prompted, my other hand sliding beneath the silk to cup her other breast, skin to skin now. "Tell me.”
My phone vibrated against my hip, but I barely registered it. What caught my attention was her reaction when I paused, my hands stilling on her breasts.
"No," she huffed immediately, her small hands shooting up to grab my wrists. Please don't stop."
Interesting. Very fucking interesting.
Instead of continuing, I deliberately kept my hands motionless, watching her face in the mirror. I wanted to see what my proper, independent princess would do when she didn't get what she wanted.
"Jax," she whispered, her voice taking on a pleading edge I'd never heard before.
I said nothing, just watched her reflection with dark amusement. Her cheeks were flushed, her voice filled with need, and I could see the exact moment frustration began to override her usual restraint.
" Please ," she breathed, trying to move my hands herself, but I kept them perfectly still against her skin.
And then she shocked me.
With a soft growl of frustration, she pressed her ass back against my hard length, grinding against me, just slightly. The contact sent heat blazing through me, and I had to bite back a loud groan.
"You can't just stop," she whined, her voice taking on a petulant edge that made my cock throb, an edge I’d only heard out of her once or twice before. "That's not fair."
My little princess was showing her true colors, and fuck if it wasn't the hottest thing I'd ever seen.
She ground against me again, more insistently this time, her small hands gripping my wrists and trying to force my thumbs back into motion. "Touch me," she demanded, her usual politeness completely gone. "I need you to touch me."
"Need?" I teased against her ear, still keeping my hands frustratingly still. "That's a strong word, princess."
"Yes, need," she said firmly, her voice fierce despite its tremor. She twisted in my arms, trying to get more contact, more friction, more of anything I was willing to give her.
"Don't be mean to me."
Don't be mean to me. She really was a princess when she didn't get her way.
"Mean?" I chuckled, finally allowing my thumbs to move just slightly, barely grazing her nipples through the silk.
"This isn't mean, princess. This is me being patient."
She whimpered at the minimal contact, pressing back against me harder.
“I don't want you to be patient. I want you to finish what you started.”
The demanding tone, the way she was grinding against my cock like she couldn't help herself, the desperate grip of her fingers on my wrists—it was all so different from the reserved, independent woman I'd been pursuing. This was raw, honest need, and it was fucking beautiful.
"Say please," I commanded softly, my lips brushing her ear.
"Please," she said immediately, without hesitation. "Please, Jax. I'll do anything, just don't stop touching me."
Anything . The endless possibilities that opened up with those words made my head spin.
"That's my good girl," I praised, finally giving her what she wanted. My thumbs resumed their torturous circles, pressing and stroking until she was trembling in my arms.
From the living room, Leo's voice drifted through the closed door. “Elle? What books should I pack?”
Reality crashed back, but not before I'd gotten a glimpse of the girl beneath all that careful control. My bratty, demanding, little princess who would grind against me and beg for what she wanted when pushed to her limits.
Before she could retreat behind her walls, I spun her around and captured her lips in a claiming kiss. When I pulled back, we were both breathing hard.
"I'll take care of it," I murmured, adjusting myself very obviously through my pants. "Compose yourself, princess. We'll finish this later."
Her lips were swollen, eyes still dazed with need. "Promise?"
"Promise," I chuckled, pressing one last soft kiss to her forehead.