5. OLIVIA
OLIVIA
This had to be some kind of record.
Not even half an hour in the air and I was being gagged in the first-class bathroom. I wanted to revolt, fight back. I wanted to push him and punish him, and not just give in like I had before.
I wouldn’t be easy. I wouldn’t be another notch in his belt.
My body certainly didn’t get the memo.
His huge body bracketed mine, all heat, raw anger, and muscle.
I was overwhelmed by him, my mind becoming quiet in that weird submissive way that only he could manage.
That didn’t mean I was quiet. The gag was helpful but not enough to silence me completely.
He tightened his grip on it, using it to wrench my face back.
Heat blazed through me at the roughness.
His other hand snaked down and hooked under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly onto the sink. His strength astounded me—despite my lithe form, I wasn’t light. His hand parted my knees. He stepped between them, reaching for the clasp of his dress pants.
Jax in a suit should be a crime.
I was sentenced to burn for the way it affected me. I was completely offline, a total bluescreen.
At least I had a similar effect on him.
His eyes raked over me, cataloging my uniform: the knee-length red skirt and white blouse, the matching red suit jacket that cinched beneath my bust. His teeth flashed, like it angered him.
When he finally freed himself, his cock jutted out, looking just as angry, already glistening at the tip.
A dribble of precum formed a bridge between his lower abs. I dipped my finger through it.
Like a beast unleashed, Jax ripped down my panties in one swift motion and tossed them in the sink behind me.
His grip tightened on the gag.
“Raw?” he asked, the word sounding gutted.
Gagged, I nodded.
He didn’t ask for anything else—no clarity, no forgiveness, no assurances. He held himself firmly at the base, swiping the leaking tip across my aching core.
He groaned at what he found. “So needy for me.”
“Shutup,” I mumbled around the fabric. My face flamed.
Jax’s eyes darkened. His fist tightened on the scarf, so it cut into my mouth at the same moment he breached me. The sharp intrusion was electric, zinging up my spine. He didn’t wait. He pushed all the way in, his jaw flexing as he swallowed his own groans.
God, he was huge. And hot. He burned me from within, already pulsing in a way that made me shiver in smugness.
I knew he wouldn’t last.
Something in my face must’ve tipped him off because he growled and snapped his hips forward. My throat clicked, the pleasure hot as it shot down my legs. But the pace was a bit awkward, the angle not quite right.
Luckily, Jax was good with his hands.
He reached down and dragged me forward, right to the edge of the vanity. I hitched my legs around his waist, holding on for dear life.
He pulled out, leaving just the tip. I made a small sound of protest. That was his cue.
He slammed back in, hard and unapologetic. His knees knocked into the vanity beneath me. The pace was brutal, his fingers bruising on my hip.
“Fuck,” he grunted, his hair dampening at his temples. The ventilation was shitty, the air becoming hot and suffocating. I fought to remain quiet, but I was losing. Badly.
I hadn’t had sex in months. My last encounter had been with Jax on that stupid island, in that stupid mansion, on that stupid balcony. I was already on the edge, each thrust dragging his lower abs against the perfect spot.
Right there…god…
I forced myself to keep my eyes open. I watched him, and he watched me. We were strangers, but we’d been through hell and back together. Whatever secrets we had were made dormant, replaced by overwhelming need.
I wanted to remember him like this. Hair gleaming gold under the fluorescent lights, the way it warmed his skin, giving him the illusion of a tan.
His smell, like smoke and clean linen, and something just him.
His short, bitten grunts. The way he hissed when I clenched around him, testing his restraint.
And what restraint he had.
Part of him was still holding back. I felt it in the way his muscles tensed and rippled. I wanted him to let go. I hated being treated like I was breakable, and Jax believed he was only capable of breaking.
Despite his restraint, the pressure was building. I held off as best I could, refusing to fall without him. The fabric in my mouth was soaked. My lipstick was definitely a trainwreck. Worth it. Every part of me was alive, every nerve singing.
Jax gripped me tighter, his chest heaving. He dragged his jaw along my cheek, his stubble burning my skin. When he reached my ear, his voice was low and guttural. “You deserve to be fucked like this.”
Words scrambled in my head, a protest I couldn’t find. I wasn’t a virgin—Jax knew that—but everything felt like a first with him.
His teeth scraped my earlobe. “Just look at you. Perfect little prom queen, spreading her legs for the hot-headed outlaw.”
I moaned, my eyelids fluttering shut despite my best efforts.
“I’m going to cum inside you,” he warned, threatened. “You’re going to feel me for the next fourteen fucking hours. You’re going to think twice before betraying me.”
God, why was that so hot?
So close, so close, not yet, not yet, oh god—
His hips stalled, a deep groan building in his throat—
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
Someone was at the door.
Jax tensed. He was pulsing inside of me, but he wasn’t finished. He was right on the edge.
Not me.
I fell right over it, my body clenching tight as white-hot pleasure shot down my legs. I pressed my face hard into his shoulder, trying my best to be quiet. My ears popped at the intensity, my toes curling in my shoes.
Jax thrust as I clenched around him, unable to help himself. He was still restrained, right on the edge of oblivion. His fingers spasmed on my hip. I whimpered when he reached between us, finding my pulsing center and pressing…
Another knock.
“Sir, is everything alright in there?”
“Fuck off!” Jax snapped, his jaw tight. His thumb circled, and I trembled as more waves of pleasure crashed over me. More and more until it felt like I was coming again…
The intruder huffed and thumped on the door, obviously intent on causing a scene.
Jax groaned and pulled out. He was so hard, it looked painful. His eyes flicked over me, taking in my positively debauched state. He grinned. “I guess you owe me one, princess.”
I reached up and ripped the scarf from my mouth. “I don’t owe you anything.” Despite my outrage, my voice was weak.
Jax touched my swollen, spit-slick lips. Then he seemed to make a decision, his jaw tightening. His hand went down, gripping himself. His other thumb popped into my mouth. “Suck,” he commanded.
I did, watching his hand stroke up his shaft. He twisted on the head, and I made notes. All the notes.
The third knock was sharp and pointed. Jax’s eyes flashed. “I’m going to murder this fucker.”
I bit his thumb until he removed it. “You can’t,” I panted. “We have a job to do.”
With a pained groan, he gave himself one last, furious tug. His lower abs clenched, hair falling stiff into his eyes. I imagined watching him finish, my belly hot with desire. Instead, he tucked himself, still hard, back into his briefs.
“Easy for you to say,” he grunted unhappily. “You don’t have to nurse blue balls next to Martha fucking Stewart.”
Without thinking, I reached up and fixed his tie. He froze, like I’d caught him off guard.
“What are you doing?”
I moved onto his hair, smoothing it down. “We have to maintain our cover,” I said. It was a thin excuse. My heart fluttered obnoxiously.
His ears turned pink, a surprisingly boyish reaction on such an unapologetic man. His hand caught mine, his face shutting down.
Guess we were back to hating each other.
Ignoring the lump in my throat, I used my toe to nudge him toward the door. “You go first. Move him so I can leave.”
Jax grimaced and cracked his knuckles. He opened the door with a snap, using his large frame to block the man from seeing in. “This one is blocked,” Jax said. “Fuck off and find another one.”
“Blocked!?” The man spluttered. “You—how—”
“Big lunch.” Then Jax pushed forward, bodily moving the man away. With a last glance toward me, he shut the door. I sagged in relief.
My whole body was humming. My thighs were damp, my lips stinging. I turned to my reflection and gawked at the girl in the mirror, with her glassy eyes, lopsided ponytail, and red-smeared mouth.
I jabbed my finger at her sternly. “Never again. You know better.”
The girl in the mirror didn’t look convinced.