Chapter 17
JAX
T he room was dark except for the faint glow from the hall seeping under the door.
Lark was curled against me, her cheek resting against my chest, her breath soft against my skin.
Her hair tickled the underside of my jaw, that faint vanilla scent clinging to it, and I let myself breathe it in until my lungs felt like they belonged to her.
I stroked her hip absentmindedly, my thumb dragging over the smooth dip of her waist where the sheet had slipped low. My voice came out rougher than I intended, but the truth was sitting heavy on my chest, demanding to be free.
“I never wanted this,” I murmured into her hair. “Never wanted anyone to be mine. But now…” My throat worked. “I can’t understand how I’ve lived this long without you.”
Her head lifted, and the look she gave me was steady but soft, her light brown eyes warm and glassy in the dim light. She smiled softly before she whispered, “I love you, Jax.”
The words sank deep, tearing me open and piecing me back together all at once. My chest clenched so hard it hurt, but my mouth curved anyway. I tipped her chin up with two fingers and pressed my lips to hers, slow but firm, my voice vibrating against her mouth. “I love you, Lark.”
The second the name left me, I felt her hesitate. Just a flicker, her body going still and her eyes dropping like she was caught between two worlds. I frowned, pulling back enough to search her face.
“You want to go by Carly now?” My voice was quieter, careful. “Want me to call you that?”
Her expression softened, the hesitation falling away.
She shook her head, dark brown strands brushing across my chest. “No. I don’t want to go back to my old life.
Carly Nolan doesn’t even feel like me anymore.
” Then her lips curved into a bright smile, the kind that hit like sunlight through storm clouds. “I’m Lark now. That’s who I am.”
“Okay, Lark it is then.”
She pushed up on her elbow, eyes shining with something fierce and free. “I’m going to make it legal. Change it for good.”
The words tightened something inside me. My hand slid up her back, anchoring her close, and I put my mouth to her ear, murmuring, “Lark Bishop has a nice ring to it.”
She froze. Then her mouth twitched, and her eyes widened in mock suspicion. “That a proposal?”
I smirked as I shifted out from under her and swung my legs over the edge of the bed.
The air was cool against my bare skin as I crossed to the closet.
The wooden hangers creaked when I pushed them aside, my hand closing around black leather.
On the way back, I pulled open the top drawer of my dresser, grabbed the small velvet box that had sat there since Kane ordered her cut, and turned toward her.
“You want a ring? I’ve got one.” I tossed the box onto the bed where it bounced once against the rumpled sheets. Then I lifted the vest, holding it so the patch on the back caught her eye. “But this means more.”
Property of Jax.
The room went quiet except for her gasp. Her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes going wide and wet all at once.
“You want me to be your old lady?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
I nodded, heat roughening my voice. “Old lady. Wife. Mother of my kids. Everything.”
Her expression twisted into a teasing frown, even as her eyes sparkled. “Does that mean you’re going to wear a Property of Lark patch?”
A sharp laugh barked out of me, real and light. “No. But I’ll wear a ring.”
Her pout was instant, her bottom lip jutting out, and I laughed harder, shaking my head. “How about I get a Property of Lark tattoo instead?”
She squealed, the sound bursting out of her like she couldn’t contain it, and then she launched herself across the bed straight into my arms. Her body collided with mine, warm and soft, and I caught her easily, pulling her tightly against me as her mouth crashed into mine.
The kiss was hungry, all teeth and tongue, but then it softened, lingering as if neither of us wanted to come up for air. Her hands fisted in my hair, her breath mixed with mine, and I let her feel everything I couldn’t put into words.
When we finally broke apart, she was breathless, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. The vest was still dangling from my hand, and I slid it over her shoulders. The leather was stiff and new, the weight of it settling around her frame like it had been waiting for her.
I tugged the zipper up and smoothed it over her chest, my hands lingering at her waist. Her eyes dropped to her name stitched over her left breast, then back to me, her smile brighter than the damn sun.
“This makes it official.” My voice was low but certain. “You’re mine.”
I kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the taste of the future sitting right there in my arms.
Eventually, she pulled back, and her fingers brushed over the leather reverently before she clutched it to herself.
“It’s real,” she whispered, her eyes flicking up to mine, shining like she was holding back tears.
“It was always real.” I cupped her jaw, my thumb stroking the edge of her lips. “This just tells the rest of the world what I already fucking know.”
Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, then she gave up and kissed me instead. Soft at first, then deeper and hungrier. I sat on the bed, and she climbed onto my lap, the vest rough under my palms as I pulled her closer.
I tugged the zipper down and pushed it open, just enough to get my hands under it, sliding across bare skin. The contrast was sharp—the cool leather on the outside, the silken warmth of her beneath my palms. Her nipples tightened instantly when I brushed against them.
She gasped into my mouth, her hips shifting over my cock where it already strained against the weight of her.
“Mine,” I growled against her lips, my hands squeezing her waist. “Every inch of you, Lark.”
She shuddered, her voice a broken whisper. “Yes. Yours.”
I flipped her back onto the mattress in one motion, climbing over her and spreading her legs with my knees. The vest framed her bare body, the leather stark against her flushed skin. My cock ached at the sight.
“Fuck, baby,” I rasped, dragging my palm down her stomach, fingertips skimming her slick heat. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”
She was dripping already, wet and hot against my hand. My chest tightened with the need to sink into her. I slid two fingers inside, and her back arched, her lips falling open on a moan that made my cock twitch painfully.
“That’s it.” I curled my fingers just right, stroking her until her thighs quivered. “Give it to me, baby. Let me hear you.”
Her head tipped back, hair spilling wild across the pillow, lips wet, eyes heavy. “Jax—oh yes?—”
I bent and sealed my mouth on her breast, sucking her nipple hard while my fingers pumped into her, sending her higher. She cried out, her nails digging into my shoulders, her pussy tightening around me in desperate pulses.
Her orgasm hit like an earthquake, sharp and sudden. She cried out and arched her back as I bit down lightly on her breast. Her whole body shook against me, clenching hard around my fingers, soaking my hand with her release.
I groaned into her skin, dragged my fingers free, and sucked them clean as I replaced them with the thick head of my cock.
“Not done yet,” I muttered, lining myself up. “Not until I’m so deep inside you’ll never get me out.”
Then I thrust hard, burying myself to the hilt.
Her scream tore through the room, and I clamped my hand over her hip to hold her in place. Her walls squeezed me so tight it bordered on pain, dragging me deeper every time I pulled back and slammed in again.
“Fuck.” Sweat already dripped down my spine. “So fucking tight, baby. You were made for my cock.”
Her hands fisted in the sheets, her body arching, every thrust making her tits bounce, the vest shifting open over her chest. I grabbed it, pulled her up slightly off the bed. I loved seeing her wearing it while I fucked her.
“Look at you,” I growled, watching my cock disappear into her slick, swollen pussy, then reappear shiny with her arousal. “Wearing my patch while I ruin you. Nobody else ever gets this. Only me.”
She sobbed, her head tossing against the pillow, her nails clawing at the sheets. “Jaxton! Oh, yes—yes!”
My hips snapped faster, my chest pressed against hers as the bed rattled hard against the wall. The smell of sex was thick in the air, sweat and leather, her vanilla shampoo drowned in heat and musk.
Her pussy clenched in sharp, desperate flutters, dragging me with her.
“Come for me, Lark,” I demanded, my voice low and guttural. “Scream my name while I fill you up.”
She shattered on command, her body locking around mine, wet heat gushing down my cock. Her scream of my name rang through the room, wild and broken, and it ripped my control to shreds.
I slammed in one last time, grinding deep, and roared as I spilled inside her. My cock pulsed, emptying thick waves into her while I held her crushed to me, refusing to let her move. My hand splayed over her belly, possessive and reverent, as if I could feel her body already taking me in.
“Mine,” I panted against her mouth, kissing her hard and rough. “You’re mine, baby, inside and out. Don’t forget it.”
Her hand came up to cup my jaw, her lips curved up softly. “Always, Jaxton. Always.”
I kissed her again, slow this time, and eased us onto our sides, still buried deep inside her, the vest framing her body like a vow. My arms locked around her, my cock throbbing inside her even as the aftershocks faded.
And for the first time in years—maybe in my life—I felt peace.