19. Stanleys Move #3
The rhythm is relentless, and the punishing pace matches the furious adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Every time my hips slam against her pale ass, a loud, heavy smack echoes through the quiet shop.
The workbench creaks loudly under our combined, shifting weight, the timber groaning with every heavy thrust.
"Ah! Jax! Right there," she gasps, her head tossing side to side against the wood. Her fingers are digging into the grain of the bench, leaving pale scratches in the dust. "Harder. Give it to me harder."
"You bet," I grind out, my breathing turning into harsh, rasping grunts.
I slide my hand down from her neck, reaching underneath her body to grab one of her full, bare breasts. I squeeze the soft flesh hard, my thumb flicking across the tight, erect nipple as I continue to pound into her from behind.
"You feel that? You're locked to this floor, Nora. Nobody is making you leave."
"I'm staying," she cries out, her voice breaking down the middle as my cock hits her cervix, sending a sharp wave of pleasure directly through her core that I feel. "Oh god, Jax, I'm coming. I'm coming right now."
The tight clenching of her internal muscles starts instantly, squeezing around my shaft like a hot fist, pulling me deeper. Her thighs begin to tremble uncontrollably, her knees nearly giving out beneath her weight.
The sight of her unspooling, the tight, frantic heat of her orgasm, completely obliterates the last thread of my restraint.
I reach down with both hands, gripping her hips tightly, leaving immediate, dark fingerprints on her pale skin. I pull her back hard against my pelvis, meeting her movements with three final, violent thrusts.
"Nora!" I roar, her name tearing out of my chest as my own release hits me.
My vision goes completely white. My entire body shudders violently against her back as I empty myself deep inside her, pumping wave after wave of thick, burning release into her clenching center. The force of it leaves my legs weak, my muscles completely liquid.
I collapse forward, burying my face in the damp, sweat-soaked silk of her hair at the nape of her neck. My forearms rest flat on the workbench on either side of her head, bearing my weight so I don't crush her into the wood.
We stay like that for a long time.
The only sound in the cavernous shop is the loud, frantic rasping of our combined breathing as it slowly, eventually evens out. I stay buried deep, keeping her pinned to the bench, my chest rising and falling heavily against her back.
Her hands slowly release their death grip on the edge of the wood. She reaches back, her soft fingers gently tracing the hard line of my forearm, her touch light and trembling.
"Jax," she whispers, sounding completely spent.
"I'm here," I murmur against her neck.
I press a soft, lingering kiss to the warm skin behind her ear before I slowly, carefully slide out of her.
The cool air of the shop hits my bare skin, making me shiver. I pull my jeans up, buttoning them with steady hands, before I reach down to help Nora up.
I wrap my arms around her waist, lifting her gently off the bench. Her legs are shaking so badly she can barely stand, her bare feet pressing into the concrete.
I grab her shorts from the floor and hand them to her, watching silently as she pulls them up over her flushed, damp skin. She looks completely wrecked, her lips swollen, her blue eyes dark and heavy with a quiet, beautiful peace that wasn't there forty minutes ago.
I guide her into the small office, pulling the heavy wool blanket off the cot and wrapping it completely around her shoulders. She sinks onto the mattress, curling her knees to her chest, watching me with wide, steady eyes.
I lie down beside her, pulling her flush against my side, my arm locking around her waist to anchor her to my chest. She rests her head right over my heart, her steady breathing eventually slowing until she falls into a deep sleep.
I don't close my eyes. I stay awake, staring through the small office window at the dark, silent shop.
The hours crawl past. The amber light from the drafting lamp casts long, jagged shadows across the floorboards.
At exactly 2:12 AM, the heavy phone on the wooden crate next to the cot vibrates loudly against the wood.
I reach out carefully, my muscles freezing so I don't shift enough to wake Nora. I grab the black phone, the bright screen illuminating the pitch-black room with a harsh, blue glare.
It's a text from Rafe.
`Victor didn't authorize the affidavit. His legal team is in emergency session right now trying to pull the filing before it hits the federal records. Stanley went rogue. Victor is going to skin him alive at dawn. Sit tight.`
I stare at the green letters for a long, heavy minute.
If Victor gets to him first... that's the only mercy Stanley Hargrove is getting from me.
I lock the screen and set the phone gently back on the crate.
I look down at Nora, curled against my chest, finally sleeping.
My arm tightens around her without thinking.
Whatever tomorrow brings...
She won't face it alone.