Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Monroe
The moment the door clicks shut behind the last King family member to leave, I can finally breathe.
My muscles relax, and once again I can feel my lungs filling and releasing oxygen at a normal pace.
Tossing my shoes off, I lean against the kitchen island, every muscle in my body buzzing with a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline.
My cheeks are hot, my lips twitching from the polite smiles I forced all night, and my mind is fried from answering every one of Magnolia's questions laced with judgment.
The woman is relentless, and when she's made up her mind about someone, there’s no changing it. Unfortunately for me, she’s decided that I’m not good enough for her son. Problem is, I’m starting to think she’s right.
“You okay?” Jase asks as he leans against the archway, watching me with a look that says he sensed every crack in my composure tonight and is wondering how the hell I'm still standing.
I’m wondering the same thing.
“I survived,” I joke, though I’m not technically kidding.
Dinner was a nightmare and had nothing to do with the delicious meal spent hours putting together, or the fact her estranged children were in attendance, filling the air with such a thick and suffocating tension.
All of that wasn’t the worst part. It was the way she watched my every move.
The way my fingers locked with Jase when I felt uneasy by something she asked.
How every forkful of food everyone took was a simple swirl on her plate, practically refusing to touch what I’d prepared.
Every calculated move of hers, each probing question asked, was meticulously plotted to make me feel uncertain about my place beside her son. And it was fucking working until she began insulting his character.
Jase struts toward me, closing the gap between us so deliberately slow, it’s driving me crazy. He reaches for me, tucking a strand of hair that’s fallen out of the messy bun I threw my hair into as I was loading up the dishwasher.
“You did more than survive. You held your own against my mama, one of the hardest, most frightening women to ever exist. Trust me, my sisters were flabbergasted, but you had my back.”
I shake off the compliment because I didn’t stand up for him to prove anything. I couldn’t stand to hear her insult the father of my baby and think she could get away with speaking to him the way she did to everyone else in the room.
Jase has done nothing but defend her and stand by her side his whole life, and as soon as he realizes how manipulative and cold she is and distances himself, she treats him like trash.
She’s not the mother I believed her to be.
One I used to look up to, thinking I’d be better off with her than with mine, who’d abandoned me.
“I wasn’t about to let your mom think she could—”
I don't get to finish my thought because in the next second, Jase’s mouth finds mine, hungry and begging for me to open up to him in more than one way.
Every kiss tastes like an apology, a promise never to allow her to come between us.
I don’t know what he did. All I know is that when he came back, he seemed determined to fight the world for us.
Every nerve in my body comes to life as his mouth explores mine with such a desperate need.
His tongue pushes into mine, and I open wider, meeting him just as passionately.
Our teeth clatter, lips become one as we kiss like we need each other to breathe.
This isn’t the gentle way he touches me in front of others.
It’s an unrestrained need he can no longer suppress, and I’m right there with him.
Months of tension unravel in a rush of heat, and I meet him with equal force. My hands fist in his shirt as I pull him closer, not caring about anything else but the need for him to be mine.
Jase’s palms slide to my hips, warm and frantic to feel every inch of me, but when his fingers graze the curve of my belly, his touch softens. “Tell me if anything’s too much,” he murmurs against my lips, softly tracing circles along my belly.
“Not enough,” I moan, my voice trembling with need.
He kisses me harder, deeper this time as if it were possible, and I swear I can taste every last lie we ever told dissolving. No more pretending, no more secrets. Neither of us planned this, and yet here we are, burning for each other in a way we've both never experienced before.
When his hands slide lower, reaching under my dress and gripping my ass, he effortlessly lifts me onto the counter. I gasp, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as his body fits perfectly against mine, a puzzle that’s always belonged.
His mouth trails down my neck, finding the spot that makes me shiver, his breath warm against my skin. My fingers thread through his hair, holding him there, my neck arching back to feel more of him.
“Bed,” I breathe out, heavy and wanting, because if we stay here, there’s no telling what chaos we might cause.
Jase lifts me off the counter and carries me to his room like I weigh nothing.
Every step down the hall to his bedroom feels like a countdown to the inevitable, every heartbeat louder than the last as the anticipation of feeling him inside buzzes within me.
Our lips never break apart, kissing the entire walk down the hall that seems endless.
Once inside, the bedroom door shuts behind us, and the world outside these four walls ceases to exist. Our clothes come off in a rush of fumbling motions, like we’ve forgotten how to function. I tug his shirt up and over his head as my dress slides down my shoulders.
We lock eyes, my body heating like never before as he stares at me like I’m something rare and intoxicating he's never witnessed. I take a step back without realizing it, trying to get a look at the specimen of a man in front of me.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, his voice dripping with arousal. My throat tightens as my eyes roam down his chest, to the dip in his lower abdomen and the trail of light blonde hair that disappears beneath the jeans hung low on his hips.
I continue to walk backwards until the backs of my knees meet the edge of the four-poster bed. Every step he takes toward me makes my knees weak, but it’s the look of pure carnal want that makes me nearly melt to a puddle of nerves at his feet.
“I said I wouldn’t touch you,” he groans, his voice gravelly and hoarse as he unbuttons his jeans, dropping them to the ground and stepping out of them.
His cock springs free, and my fucking god, my mouth waters begging for a taste, my pussy aching to feel him inside me.
“Not until you begged me for it, but fuck, baby,” he lets out a deep growl.
The sound is so raw and feral, it makes every inch of my skin break out in goosebumps.
“I don’t think I can keep that promise.”
His cock is fucking beautiful. Thick and long, with a dusting of hair perfectly trimmed and the tip already so engorged it’s leaking.
The veins on his shaft are dark as it swells in his palm.
He strokes himself slowly, his eyes on me the entire time, and I’m mesmerized by his size and how fucking hot he looks.
Next thing I know, he’s reaching for my wrist, pulling me toward him, flipping me so that my back is to his chest. He grips my hip with one hand, the other sliding over my breast as he squeezes and tugs, his erection pressing into my lower back.
“Jase, please,” I moan, standing in nothing but my matching bra and panties.
“Say it, Moonshine. Beg me for it, please, because fuck, I’m about to drop to my knees and beg if you don’t.” His fingers glide lower and dip into my panties, instantly sliding through the pool of arousal between my lips.
“Oh, God,” I cry out, so incredibly turned on by the dirty-talking god in my ear.
“No gods here, baby, just me. You’re so fucking wet for me, Moonshine. I want to taste every last drop of you, feel this slick wetness coat my cock as I slide inside you.”
His thumb finds my clit and swirls circles around it until I’m practically panting. “Yes, fuck, Jase. All of it. I want it all.”
“Then say it, baby. Beg me for it so that I can put us both out of our misery and fuck you the way I’ve wanted to for months.”
I nod, words failing me as he toys with my clit, pinching and squeezing it between his fingers.
He sinks two fingers into me and my legs spread wider, giving him better access to fuck me with them.
“I’m begging, baby,” I plead, my hips rolling to feel him deeper.
“Fuck me, please. With your fingers, your tongue. I need your cock inside me, Jase.”
He pulls his fingers out of me, slowly trailing them over my stomach, leaving a trail of my wetness until he finds my lips. He taps against my bottom lip, and I open up, sucking his fingers coated in my arousal.
“Fuck my name sounds so pretty coming from these lips but the word baby,” he growls into my ear, nipping my lobe. “I want to feel your pussy lips scream as my cock thrusts in and out of you.”
This isn’t how I’d imagined he’d be. I knew this was inevitable.
The sexual tension between us was too strong, and our need for one another was almost blinding.
This wasn’t like the Jase from Miami. That night we were both drunk, fumbling with one another and quick to fuck and be done with it.
We were entranced by the liquor and lust in our veins and, sure, it had been thus far the best sex of my life but this version of him, this is what my wickedest fantasies were made of.
I’d assumed now that I was pregnant, he’d be careful with me—with us—too scared to move too quickly or be too rough. But no, Jase isn’t in the slightest bit hesitant about showing me exactly what I’m doing to him. Each kiss, every touch, tells me how much he wants me.
He turns me so that we’re facing each other as he grips my ass and hoists me up, angling me toward the bed as he kneels on the mattress.
“It’s been torturous, lying in this bed next to you every night and not being able to touch you.
I’ve been patient, giving you the space you think you need to wrap the idea of us around your mind, but I’m done waiting.
I want you too much, Monroe. I can’t pretend I’ve forgotten about this electrifying energy between us. ”
Slick and soft fingers reach for the clasp of my bra, undoing it so effortlessly before he lays me down on the mattress.
It dips beneath us as he hovers over me, his body softly pressing into mine.
He leans back on his knees, bites into the waistband of my baby blue lace panties, ones I wear because I know he loves the color on me, and tugs them down my legs before discarding them on the floor.
The smile he gives me next, a teasingly wicked smirk, has my pussy spasming, my orgasm already building from just that one look alone.
Jameson King is perfect. Gorgeous, ruggedly sexy and kind, even though he pretends he’s nothing more than a pretty face. If I'd known this side of him from the beginning, I’d have fallen in love instantly.
“I wanted to go slow, to be as gentle with you as possible, but not tonight, baby.” He leaves a trail of kisses up my leg, the scruff on his chin rubbing against my thigh, before he blows softly against my pussy.
My legs are spread as wide as I can manage without cramping, and I’m completely bare to him, at his mercy.
He licks a line through my lips, and I can practically hear how wet I am.
“So fucking sweet,” he groans, licking and sucking as his tongue slides through me.
I moan, writhing beneath his touch, my fingers digging into the sheets as I push forward trying to feel him closer. “But tonight I need to fuck you like I’ve been dreaming about since the last time I was inside you. I need to feel you tighten around me, squeezing me like your life depends on it.”
I’m panting, my orgasm so close as every nerve in my body threatens to fire all at once. “Fuck me hard,” I moan breathlessly. My fingers thread through his hair and tug, pulling his attention forward, forcing him to meet my heated stare. “I want you to fuck me like you mean it, like you need me.”
His jaw tightens, eyes darkening to an onyx shade as he watches me. “There’s nothing I need more.”
There’s no more teasing. It’s unnecessary when I’ve been consistently wet for him for months. His mouth finds my breasts, tugging my nipple into his mouth as his hand kneads and squeezes. “Fuck, these tits are perfect. I can’t wait to fuck them when they’re completely full and swollen.”
I simply nod, unable to speak any longer. I’m too wired, aching for him. It’s painful. He grips my hips, flipping us and lifting me so I’m straddling him.
“I’m going to need you to ride me, baby. I want to see your tits bounce, and feel your needy pussy wrap around me, strangling my cock and taking everything it craves.”
He lifts and angles me so that my center is aligned with his cock, and the scream I let out when I sink onto him is almost deafening.
His forehead presses against mine, his hand cradling my face as he pumps his cock into me.
We move together with a desperate urgency as I grip his thighs, lifting myself up only to fall back onto him, taking all of him at once.
I feel a slight pressure, but it’s immediately replaced by eternal bliss, and my pleasure builds.
I swivel my hips in a circular motion as I ride him, leaning back to feel him hit the spot I need to feel.
He spits between us, using his fingers to spread it over my clit as he rubs, forcing me to the edge with his fingers and cock.
“Ahhh, Jase, I’m close, fuck. Don't stop, I'm gonna…” My words die on my lips as I cry out, my orgasm rippling through me.
“Fuck, Monroe,” he shouts between gritted teeth. He grabs my wrist, throws my arms over his neck, and his hands find my hips. My body’s spasming as he pumps into me seeking his own release. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
There’s no more pretending. Our breaths turn ragged, the rush of heat, between us setting fire to our bodies as he comes right there with me, shooting his cum into me as his body convulses wrapped around mine.
A chorus of shaky moans slip from my throat as the world narrows to just Jase and the way his hands and voice whisper my name like a vow. A promise to be mine and only mine.
By the time our orgasms subside, I’m limp in his arms, not from exhaustion but from the realization that this thing between us is something I don’t want to live without.