Chapter 9 #4
“I’ve never…” My voice comes out small and rough. “That’s the first time someone else has ever made me come.”
Knox’s arms tighten around me. He presses a long kiss to my temple. “Yeah?”
I nod against his throat, feeling floaty and wrecked and so full of something that feels dangerously close to love it almost scares me.
Jax’s mouth brushes my ear. “We’re honored, baby,” he whispers. “So fucking honored.”
I stay there between them, still trembling faintly, completely love-drunk, and neither of them seems in any hurry to let me go.
I stay curled in Knox’s lap, still trembling faintly, completely soft and open between them. My body feels heavy and light at the same time. Love-drunk. That’s the only word for it.
My hands start moving before I fully decide to.
I slide one palm down Knox’s chest, over the hard ridges of his stomach, until my fingers brush the waistband of his jeans.
At the same time I reach back with my other hand, finding Jax’s thigh and then higher, feeling how hard he is against my palm.
Both of them are still so worked up from touching me, and the thought of returning even a little of that pleasure makes something warm and eager twist in my chest.
Knox catches my wrist before I can go further.
“Hey,” he says softly, lifting my hand and pressing a kiss to the inside of my palm. “Not tonight.”
I blink up at him, confused. “But you…”
Jax’s arm tightens around my waist from behind. He nuzzles the side of my neck and speaks against my skin. “Tonight was about you, Ainsley.”
Knox nods, still holding my hand like it’s something precious. “We wanted you to feel how bad we want you. How good we can make you feel. That’s it.”
“You don’t have to do anything for us right now,” Jax adds, voice low and steady. “We just needed you to know you’re wanted. Exactly like this.”
My throat goes tight. I look between them, Knox’s dark, patient eyes, Jax’s soft mouth still curved in that gentle almost-smile, and the love-drunk feeling only gets stronger.
“I want to,” I whisper.
“I know you do, baby.” Knox brushes his thumb across my lower lip. “And we want that too. Just… not tonight. Tonight you just get to take.”
Jax presses another slow kiss to my shoulder. “Let us take care of you. That’s all we want right now.”
I let my hands fall still. The rejection isn’t cold, it’s the opposite. It wraps around me like another layer of care. They mean it. This really was about me.
I sink back against Knox’s chest, and Jax settles more fully behind me, both of them holding me between them like I’m something worth protecting. Knox keeps my hand in his, fingers laced. Jax’s palm rests warm over my bare stomach, stroking slow, soothing circles.
I close my eyes and let myself stay right there, still buzzing, still soft, still completely love-drunk, and for once I don’t try to give anything back.
I just let them hold me.
Knox shifts beneath me, then stands in one smooth motion, lifting me with him like I weigh nothing. I make a small sound of surprise and automatically loop my arms around his neck. He carries me down the short hallway without a word, Jax following close behind.
In my bedroom, Jax steps ahead and pulls the covers down. Knox sets me on the mattress like I’m something breakable. The sheets are cool against my bare skin. I sink into the pillow, still soft and floaty and thoroughly wrecked in the best way.
Jax draws the covers back up over me, tucking them carefully around my shoulders. His hand lingers for a second, brushing a strand of hair off my cheek.
“Get some sleep,” he says quietly.
Knox leans down and presses a slow kiss to my forehead. Then another to my mouth, soft, lingering, almost chaste compared to everything that came before. “We’ll lock up.”
I watch them through half-lidded eyes as they move around the small house.
I hear the front door lock click into place.
The soft creak of the floorboards as they check the windows.
Then the quiet pause outside Owen’s room, the careful way the door is eased open, the moment of silence while they look in on him, the soft click as they close it again.
A minute later they’re back in the doorway of my room.
Jax leans against the frame. “He’s still out cold. Door’s locked. You’re good.”
Knox’s voice is low. “Text us if you need anything. Doesn’t matter what time.”
I nod against the pillow, too full of everything to find real words.
They both look at me for another long second, like they’re committing the sight of me safe in bed to memory, then Jax reaches out and turns off the hallway light.
“Night, Ainsley,” Knox says.
“Night, baby,” Jax echoes.
The front door opens and closes. I hear the solid sound of the deadbolt sliding home from the outside, and then their footsteps fading down the walk.
I lie there in the dark, still tasting them on my mouth, still feeling the ghost of their hands on my skin, completely love-drunk and safer than I’ve felt in years.
And for the first time in a long time, I fall asleep without being afraid.