Nine
It was late. I ate very little from the buffet, flicking the food around my plate as people were starting to leave.
Jaxon was still attentive and guided me around the room as we delivered our goodbyes to our friends. His touch was stiff and unfamiliar, almost like a stranger’s, his hand resting against the bottom of my back. It was only as we walked out into the night air that I realised how much I’d had to drink. Jaxon had only consumed one glass of champagne as he was driving.
I shivered in the night air and Jaxon took his jacket off and draped it over my shoulders. The gentleman-like gesture just made me feel more upset. It felt like mixed messages.
“You wait here, I’ll bring the car around,” he instructed.
I stood there, draped in his scent, waiting for said car to appear. After around ten minutes, I decided to go and meet him by the car. What the hell was taking him so long?
As I approached, he was standing glaring at the Range Rover in the semi-pitch blackness. He had his phone in his hand and did not look happy.
I was confused.
“What’s up?”
“Little fuckers,” Jaxon snorted, his face a mixture of annoyance and frustration.
My brow threaded as I glanced around the car park. “Who?” I questioned.
Dashing a hand across his jaw, my stepbrother pinned me with those steely eyes of his. “The car that attempted to cut us up earlier. It’s gone. The little twats must have let my tyres down.”
“What? All of them?”
“Yes. All of them—fuck. ”
“—Can’t you just jack the car up and change them or something?” My comment made Jaxon look at me like I was a moron. What? I hadn’t got a clue what we needed to do. Pump the tyres up I supposed.
“No, I can’t just jack it up, Genuis. It’s a fucking Range Rover. It weighs over a tonne.”
“So, what are we going to do? Do you have roadside assistance?”
“Yes, I called them and there’s a two-hour wait. And before you start, there are no taxis either. Well, not until three, which is almost three hours away.”
I suddenly felt tired. “What do we do now then? We could call Marcus?”
“No fucking way. We’ll have to say here,” Jaxon announced with a flick of his head at the hotel.
It sounded like a reasonable idea and I immediately agreed. I so needed to sleep.
“OK. I’ll text my mum. I’ll say we decided to stay as it’s easier, I don’t want to panic her whilst she is feeling so low.”
Jaxon nodded and then opened the boot of his car, retrieving a small bag. At that point, I didn’t care what he had in there.
We made our way back towards the doors of the hotel. As I went to text my mother, I saw another message from my father but decided against reading it. I was slightly tipsy and needed to reply when I had my head in gear.
As we got to the desk, we were met by a friendly member of staff who then went on to explain that they only had one room left. Fucking great. It was also a double which added to my torment. Now I had to share a room with all Jaxon’s manly testosterone as well as that unpalatable fact that he considered himself off limits.
Jaxon paid for the room and took the key card, his body language unimpressed.
We rode the lift to our floor and found our room. Jaxon unlocked the door and allowed me to proceed him. Still the gentleman. Fuck that, I wanted the rogue !
The door closed with a click of finality and our eyes met across the room. It was basic, a bit like a Premier Inn which was a surprise for a place which was so grand.
“This must be the shittest room in the building,” Jaxon commented with a dry twist to his lips.
I shrugged and lowered myself onto the double bed. “At least it’s clean and dry and has a bed. I’m exhausted.”
Walking into the room, filling the space, Jaxon muttered. “The sofa has a pull-out. I’ll sleep there, you take the main bed.”
“Thank you, I think,” I replied, glancing around the small space. I so hoped I didn’t snore. I didn’t usually but after drinking who knew?
“You sound surprised, I can be chivalrous and caring when I want to be,” he informed me softly.
“I know,” I replied honestly.
“Really. I thought I had the emotional range of a celery.” Jaxon teased with raised eyebrows and our gazes locked as we shared a moment.
Pushing to my feet, I took off Jaxon’s dinner jacket and hung it on the railing where there were several hangers. Checking the bathroom door, there were no robes there and I wondered what I would sleep in.
Jaxon had dropped the small leather bag he’d retrieved from the car on the single bed which he’d pulled out from under the sofa. He now stood there with his back to me, those broad shoulders tense. Would he find it hard sleeping in the same room as me and not touching me? I thought back to all those threats he’d made in the past about sensational sex. Where the fuck had they vanished to?
I stepped toward him and he seemed to sense me, turning, and lowering the phone he had been texting on. Our eyes locked, and he stuffed it into the pocket of his trousers. I noticed he’d pulled his shirt out of the waistband .
As I watched him in tired silence, he started to remove his shirt. Slowly unbuttoning it, his eyes never leaving mine, my heart raced against my ribcage and bit by bit, his tanned muscular chest was revealed. Was he going to perform a strip tease for me, my mouth almost watered at the thought.
Once he had shrugged out of the shirt, he then held it out to me and I took it, puzzled. “You can wear it to sleep in,” he said, a slight catch in his voice.
I drew the garment against me and inhaled. I didn’t care that he watched me do that. His scent teased my nostrils and I glanced back and raised an eyebrow.
“And don’t be getting any ideas,” he drawled with a lopsided smile. I knew he was joking.
“You and your virtue are safe tonight, Mr Savage,” I informed him, my eyes creasing in humour.
Jaxon placed one of his strong hands flat against his chest as he mocked in a maidenly type voice, “Well, thank goodness for that.”
He then handed me the bag. “Here, you use the bathroom first. There’s a spare toothbrush in there and soap, my shaving stuff and that’s about it. His comment about his shaving stuff reminded me of that day he’d chewed me out for Dominic using his razor. My feelings for him were so much different back then but I doubted I had ever really hated him.
I took the bag and walked away to the bathroom; that unsaid thing circulated the room behind me.
Part of me wanted to offer to share the bed, but I knew it would be a mistake. Jaxon sleeping separately was the best thing.
I too wasn’t a lover of complications and whilst sex with him would probably be amazing. It would have been wrong, especially as I was with Dominic. Wouldn’t it?
Whilst in the bathroom, I pulled out the clip in my hair and combed my fingers through it before removing my dress and washing my face. After I brushed my teeth, I took my strapless bra off but kept my knickers on .
Lifting Jaxon’s shirt against my face, I inhaled his musky scent. It was such a masculine smell and it made me tingle in all the right places. I slipped my arms into the sleeves and tugged it over my bare breasts; the material just covered my bottom. I had seen women wearing men’s shirts in movies. I stared at myself in the mirror, it didn’t feel strange to be wearing his clothing and it made me feel sexy.
I had almost finished dealing with the buttons when there was a soft knock on the door. “You about done?” Jaxon said through the closed wood.
I took a deep breath and checked my reflection again, did my cheeks look unnaturally pink? “Yes, almost,” I croaked, I left the top few buttons undone, exposing my throat.
After rinsing my hands, I drew the door open and Jaxon appeared in the doorway, he raised one hand and rested it above his head on the doorframe. He looked sinfully hot with his chest bare and only his dress pants on. His muscles bulged so close to my head. Jaxon really was sex on legs and part of me wondered what he’d do if I made the first move. What about Dominic, my conscience chanted.
He quirked a brow and then ran his gaze over my body, taking note of me wearing his shirt with a lingering look before dashing his free hand down his face. “Fuck me—can this night get any harder?” he whispered, partly to himself.
I raised a sexy brow. “I don’t know—can it?” The sexual suggestiveness of my comment cracked his mouth into a saucy grin.
“Behave,” he instructed with an amused expression. He was still stubborn and arrogant but so sexy.
Shooting him my best come-to-bed eyes, I slid under his arm and made my way to the double bed.
Jaxon didn’t take long in the bathroom and I dimmed the light. Pulling the covers up to my chin, eying my red dress which I’d hung next to Jaxon’s jacket .
Once he had finished in the bathroom, I caught a flash of his black boxer shorts as he walked past the bottom of my bed. The single pull-out was under the window. It didn’t look very comfortable. I silently ogled him as he bent over the bed and rearranged the covers, his broad back facing me and my eyes dropped to the cutest of tushies. The silk of his underwear showed a perfect outline of his buttocks. Was it wrong that I wanted to bite him there? I blamed the alcohol for all the perverse thoughts that were suddenly channelling their way through my head.
My stepbrother and the man who was still fuelling my lust-o-metre settled himself into the ridiculously small bed. It creaked like it hadn’t been used in a decade and I felt another twinge of guilt. Twisting and turning to get comfortable I leaned across to turn off the light.
“You could sleep in here with me you know. I trust you,” I offered, almost crossing my fingers.
He cleared his throat before answering. “I’m not sure I trust myself, and so that’s not a good idea Wynter. I’m not made of stone.”
“Night then,” I whispered across the quiet.
“Night.” His reply was so definite and my spirits sank. I so wanted to feel his lips against mine again and for his hands to touch my skin.
I then lay there, looking up at the ceiling, a variety of wild, so not-Wynter thoughts circling my head, very aware of the sounds of Jaxon’s breathing so close beside me.
After around half an hour, thoughts of my father resurfaced and I wondered if Jaxon was asleep. How was he able to drop off so quickly with a semi-naked female so close? It made me doubt my allure.
I bit the bullet, I couldn’t sleep, not with Jaxon there.
"Jaxon?" I spoke out into the quiet.
"Yeah?" I felt a twinge of regret for speaking as he responded in a sleep-heavy voice .
The air was thick with all the things I wanted to say. "Are—you awake?"
"I am now," he replied with a sour, semi-amused tone.
"Sorry. Can I ask you something?"
"Always," Jaxon husked in a softer voice. I noted his ‘always’ as he had said that in the car; like he welcomed anything I had to say. It caused the hairs on my arms to stand up and I pushed them under the covers. I then rolled onto my side and leaned onto my elbow, propping my head up with one hand.
"Why do you fight with your dad so much?" I willed the strange queasy feeling in my stomach to settle as I brought up the subject of his father.
The was a moment of pause, had he fallen asleep again? “It’s complicated.”
Curiosity got the better of me and I needed to know more. "How so?"
He released a puff of air and shifted in bed, turning to face me, mirroring my position. "Maybe we’re—too alike?"
I fought off the unexpected urge to laugh at his words. “I wouldn’t say you’re alike at all. You’re much more volatile." An image of my dad's face swam into my memory. He was angry, red-faced and his hair was dishevelled. I swallowed several times, shaking away the out-of-the-blue vision as Jaxon stated tiredly.
"You’d be surprised. Marcus has had his moments in the past. Besides, he’s supposed to be the calmer one. He’s the adult."
"I suppose so. Do you resent him for the number of times he’s been married?"
My eyes roamed over his face, it was partly shaded and so hard to read. "That’s part of it but the way I remember him treating my mother towards the end of her life is probably the biggest factor."
"What do you mean? When she was ill? But you were so young." My confidence in my ability to encourage him to talk to me was suddenly unshakable.
“I can still remember it like it was yesterday. He was so distant when she needed him most. I don’t think I could ever forgive him for letting her down. He went to pieces when he should have been strong,” Jaxon explained, a twinge of resentment evident in his tone. “And considering how young Chris and I were, he moved on pretty quickly. He wasn’t there for me—for us. I had to take care of Chris by myself.”
A thought occurred to me. “My mother told me he loved her very much.”
He was quick to answer. "Then why did he shack up with someone else six months after her death?"
He had a point. Six months was a bit fast for a widower with kids to ‘move on’ I could agree with that one. When my parents had separated, Daisy had sworn off men for years. A twinge of something unidentifiable entered my system.
“He took down all the photographs of my mother and started dating within weeks and I hated him for that.”
"Oh," I sighed, my mouth forming the shape of the word.
Jaxon smiled but there was little humour in it. "Yes—oh."
Pursing my lips, I took a moment before I responded. "Grief affects people in different ways you know, sometimes it causes you to act impulsively, without thinking things through. My friend Melody went off the rails when her dad died."
Jaxon snorted, not buying my possible suggestion as to why a man would act irrationally after the death of the woman he loved. "You really do have an answer for everything.”
He then paused, and turned onto his back, breaking eye contact. “Anyway. We should get some sleep. I need to be up early and get the tyres sorted.” Jaxon said wearily, turning his head to the side, his eyes tangling with mine.
We stared at each other for a moment longer and I didn't want to be the first to look away. I would allow myself to go blind before I blinked. After a few more beats, I caved and settled back. He was right after all and my eyes were starting to feel gritty. "OK. Goodnight then, roomy ," I whispered with a smile.
He returned it and I felt warmth bloom in my chest. "Whatever, night. "
The sense of satisfaction I felt after our brief yet interesting discussion was unmatched. I was sickening pleased with myself and I closed my eyes with a grin on my face, wrapped up in Jaxon’s shirt. I felt safe and warm. That was however about to change.
The last thing I remembered was Jaxon’s scent tantalising my senses as my eyelids fluttered closed and sleep overcame me. The faint sounds of distant traffic outside and Jaxon's breathing were the last things I heard.
It was at that point that the black hole in my mind opened and an explosion of repressed memories of my past, came thundering back.
The Dream
The darkness opened and Jaxon was there. He was walking slowly towards me and my heart flipped in my chest. As he came close, I could see that he was smiling. He looked down into my eyes, the expression on his face making me feel like the most precious thing he had ever seen.
“I love you,” he mouthed, stroking one finger gently down my cheek and my spirits soared.
Unfortunately, my happiness at that moment was short-lived as his image was suddenly swallowed by a thick grey mist. An acrid smell bled into my nostrils and my stomach somersaulted.
Spinning around, I could hear my mother shouting my name and I raised my arms, moving, blind through the space, but I couldn’t find her and anxiety pumped through my chest. I stopped, straining to see. There was nothing, where was she?
“Mom,” I shouted into the blank space.
At my words, the fog lifted and I was standing in a bedroom; a child’s room considering the youthful décor .
It was a small space and colourful with pink walls, white woodwork and a dusky grey carpet that felt thick beneath my bare feet. The teddy-strewn bedspread was patchwork and on the bedside table, there was an old-style alarm clock and a lava lamp. A white-painted door was positioned at the opposite side of where the bed sat. It was a slatted door but you couldn’t see between the cracks. I imagined it would be a cupboard or a wardrobe of types. There was also a small writing table in the other corner of the room which was covered with coloured pencils. It looked like it had recently been abandoned. Maybe the child had been called down for supper and was in a hurry?
Shuffling across from where I was standing beside another door, I focused on the collection of paintings which were pinned to a corkboard above the desk. I felt a stirring of familiarity. I recognised those paintings. They were of different things, one was of a mother and her child, another a zebra and one of a teddy bear; all created by a child’s hand, the splodgy design suggesting the owner of the paintings would probably be under ten years of age. I searched my memory banks, wondering where I had seen those pictures before.
As my eyes scanned the area, prickles of awareness ran across my skin. A split second later, my heart thumped in my chest as I heard a loud bang and the whole room shook! It came from another part of the house and raised voices then followed in its wake. A muffled voice was shouting something, but I couldn’t hear what was being said through the wood of the closed bedroom door. Part of me wanted to go and investigate but I found myself tied to that room; like I needed to stay there.
Dragging my eyes back to the table, my attention was drawn towards a crumpled piece of paper. It sat in amongst the pencils and crayons that were scattered haphazardly across the surface. Suddenly, my breathing became restricted and I tried to swallow that lump that had appeared in my throat.
Without even moving from my position, the crumpled piece of paper appeared in my hand. That was odd, I didn’t even remember reaching for it. I stared down as it sat in my palm, a myriad of emotions rushing through me like a Tsunami. Something was off.
With shaking fingers, I carefully opened the clump of paper which had been purposefully scrunched into the smallest of balls. As if the person who had done that wanted to obliterate it from existence.
Using the tabletop, I smoothed it out, pushing against the edges so that I could see what the paper contained. It was another picture, possibly created by the same child, it had to be, the general appearance matched perfectly.
The discarded picture was created with crayons. A child’s image of her family; mum, dad, and a little girl, all holding hands outside what appeared to be a house and one that I strangely remembered. It was a stunning property, large and built from stone with climbing red roses all around the front door. My mother’s favourite flower.
A sound escaped through the cracks of the slatted door, which I now recognised as a walk-in cupboard. It also stored other items, like scared children and secrets and I knew I wasn’t alone. I forced myself not to shudder. Someone was hiding there.
My eyes darted back to the picture and I realised that the happy family didn’t appear happy anymore; the face of the father was scribbled out so hard that the paper had torn there. A man without a face, and at that moment, I knew exactly who he was. A chill crept up my spine and my feet were rooted to the spot, my body rigid with tension.
I then heard the loud smash of something breaking and the echo of a woman crying; a woman I now recognised as my mother. I closed my eyes, wanting to blink away what I was about to see. Powerful emotions rushed through me like a hurricane.
When I opened them, I was staring at the slatted door of the cupboard from the inside; light suddenly appeared under the door .
Petrified, I clutched Ronnie Hek, my favourite bear to my chest as I heard the bedroom door, my old bedroom door crashing open as both my parents came in. My father was yelling at my sobbing mother. The sound of her crying caused my throat to clench like someone had their hands wrapped around it and was squeezing the life out of me. I couldn’t breathe and I felt like I was going to vomit. I needed to get a grip, I was an adult now, not a weak and frightened child.
Mom was screaming at him to leave me alone. “You can’t take her. She stays with me!”
I jammed my hands over my ears, praying for it to be over. Torn between hiding and calling for my mother.
The door to my hiding place was then yanked open and my father was there; at least I thought he was my father; he didn’t look at all like his usual self. His face was bright red, the veins in his neck standing out and his clothes were messy. He had crazy eyes as he glared down at me.
“She needs to learn how useless her mother is,” he snarled as he made a move to grab me. I shuffled backwards, fear clawing through my chest.
“Come here to me Wynter,” he barked, holding out his meaty fist. I looked around him as I lowered my hands. Ronnie Hek was now forgotten at my feet.
My mother appeared at his side with her fingers on his arm, attempting to pull him away but he grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her back towards the bed. She shrieked, but I couldn’t make out what she said, her face was tear-stained and her lip was bleeding. The pain in her eyes was fierce and I shot to my feet, standing on my bear as I stumbled forward to try and get to her, but my father pushed me away. He kept his fingers wrapped around her wrist as my mother tried to prise his hands off her. She was so tiny in contrast to the Hulk that was my father.
Again, I moved towards her but he held up a hand with a grunt. He was keeping us apart, separating us. I wanted to scream at him, hurt him as he was hurting her. The anger inside my stomach burned like lava but I was still terrified and so uncertain. If I screamed for help, would anyone come?
The panic I felt inside my chest was so immense that I could hardly stand.
As I stood there shaking, feeling helpless, I heard more noise downstairs before that one sound that I was sure I would never forget.
There was a cracking sound as my father yanked my mother off the bed by her wrist. She yelled in pain and I remember kicking my father hard before the bedroom door burst open and my Uncle Adrian stormed in with another man.
Releasing my mother, my dad turned to prepare for any possible attack/interference and in the process knocked me backwards, the back of my head hitting something sharp and then everything went fuzzy. I could faintly recall seeing my mum’s blurred face above me as she drew me into her arms.
As nothingness overcame me, the sound of my mother’s wrist snapping echoed in my mind and all those times my father had physically hurt her came crashing back.
Fuck, I remembered. Everything my dad had done to my mum was clear now and with it the most excruciating need for answers.
As I sat with my legs dangling in the water of a pool that I suspected didn’t exist, I knew I needed to wake the hell up. Suddenly, an arm shot out from the darkness of the water and grabbed my ankle, dragging me off the side and under. I attempted to shake it off as it continued to pull, the water starting to suffocate me, entering my lungs.
Suddenly, I could breathe again and I was standing in a church, it was cold, freezing in fact. My mother was getting married, but why was everyone wearing black? Molly was there, she was standing with my stepbrother, and they were holding hands. I turned away, my feet sinking into the floor and I couldn’t move. It was then that I saw him, my father. He moved from the shadows of the pews, his hands wrapping around my throat, squeezing the life from me.
Wake up! I told myself .
Wake up! Jaxon! I tried to yell but my throat was dry like sandpaper.
“Wynter!” I heard the voice but it seemed so far away. I was going to die. Please help me, Jaxon, someone, please.
“Wynter—"
"—Wynter! Wake up, Wynter!" Something was pushing against me, rattling my body around the softness against my back. Alarmed and breathless, my eyes shot open and I gasped and struggled to focus.
Reality
When my sanity returned, I realised I was being shaken awake by two strong hands on my upper arms. The grip was firm but gentle, despite the way they rocked my small frame. There was a dim glow of light from a lamp and my eyes fell upon Jaxon's face; his expression was one of immense shock and the memory of what I had just remembered came flooding back. The truth caused my breath to leave my body so quickly that I became dizzy. I swayed against his body.
"Easy, calm down baby. I'm here. It was just a dream. You're safe," Jaxon coaxed, drawing me further against the strength of his chest. I immediately welcomed his warmth, the cruel twisted things I had seen in my sleep entering my system like a poison. I buried my head against his chest and sobbed; almost hyperventilating. I tried to speak but my tongue tripped in my mouth. All the while, I was aware that Jaxon was holding me, comforting me. My stepbrother, the one who had hated me was making me feel safe.
Jaxon remained silent, holding me tightly, allowing my tears to soak his skin and I felt his hand in my hair. "Shh baby. It's fine. You're OK." He stroked the strands as I melted into him.
Once I had regulated my breathing, I drew back. Jaxon was sitting on the side of my bed and I looked up into his features. They were drawn with worry. His body language suggested he was in full-on protective mode and it struck a chord inside me; one that was low, deep, and extremely painful.
“You were dreaming, having a nightmare,” Jaxon explained as I stared up into his face with misty eyes. “Do you want me to put the main light on?”
I shook my head, feeling so miserable that I could have forgotten something so important and tragic; aka a massive fucked up part of my life. There was a piece of me that wanted to call my mother, tell her that I remembered, hug her, and say it was OK. The other part wanted the answers to questions; loads of them. Why hadn’t she ever spoken to me about what had happened? She told me that her wrist was an old injury from the gym and so she’d lied. And that was odd, I had been there, and witnessed it. Had she not brought it up thinking I had forgotten?
“So, what was it about? It sounded pretty nasty,” Jaxon hushed softly.
I slowly withdrew from his arms and he placed them on the bed on either side of my legs which were still beneath the covers. I was surprised I hadn’t kicked them off. Pushing against the headboard, I rightened my body in the bed as Jaxon shuffled forward. He was watching me with keen interest. I managed to crack a slight smile as he pushed some of my hair back from my face; the gesture so caring I almost started crying again.
“I think you have something you need to tell me.”
And I did.
Jaxon listened intently as I explained about the abuse I had seen growing up as a child. All those times my father had hit my mother, or shaken her. I remember he threw water in her face one Christmas. Jaxon listened without interrupting; his face a mask, giving nothing away until I told him about the night Jenson broke my mother’s wrist. Lines of temper appeared on his face. I explained how I’d woken up in bed with my uncle Adrian and our local Doctor who lived in the house next to ours. My mother had been taken to A and E for her wrist and I was told not to worry .
Jaxon was supportive and said that I needed to speak to my mother. She was still delicate so I needed to make sure I didn’t get angry. Jaxon suggested that he believed Daisy wouldn’t have wanted me to remember if she’d thought I had forgotten. The hatred I felt for my father pumped through me and I knew that there was no way in hell I would see him now.
“Come on, you need to sleep,” Jaxon whispered running his knuckles gently down my face.
At that moment, I didn’t want to be alone. I needed Jaxon’s strength beside me. “Will you sleep—in here—with me? I don’t want to be alone.”
A mixture of emotions swam across his face. He was torn and I added, “Just to sleep, please Jaxon.” He must have heard the raw desperation in my voice.
“OK. Slide over,” he instructed and relief pooled into me as I so needed to be held.
And he did.
Jaxon shuffled his large frame into the bed as I turned on my side, pulling my body back against his, those strong arms around my waist as he spooned me.
And I slept, it was deep and relaxing and I felt safe and cared for.
*****
I stirred later during the night when I realised that I wasn’t alone in bed; Jaxon's strong muscular leg was draped possessively over mine. He was breathing heavily and so must still have been asleep and I shifted, turning slowly to face him. Wanting to watch him as he slept.
As I settled myself, I looked up and Jaxon’s eyes were open. I could see them clearly as I adjusted to the partial darkness. The room was still slightly lit by an external light pooling through the curtains.
“You look so peaceful and sweet when you sleep,” Jaxon whispered as he ran his fingers up and down my arm, like a lover's caress .
“I do?” I whispered, his voice sending a quiver through me.
He slowly nodded his head.
“You also look as sexy as hell in my shirt.”
I glanced down, suddenly aware of how close our two bodies were and then my resolve snapped and I moved forwards and fused my mouth against Jaxon’s. He stiffened at first before taking control, his hands sliding into my hair, pulling it as he twisted a chunk around his fist.
Jaxon’s large bare chest pushed against me, the motion causing friction against my nipples, which immediately pebbled against the inside of his shirt. Fuck me, it felt amazing.
Jaxon’s tongue drove into my mouth, dominating the space. He kissed me like I belonged to him and I wanted to with everything I had to offer him. A rocket went off inside me, the feel of his rock-hard body against mine was incredible.
Drawing back from the kiss, Jaxon looked down into my eyes; his own like the sea after a storm. The only sound in the room was the harshness of our breathing and the thumping of my heart. You could smell our arousals in the air.
“Are you sure you want this to happen, Wynter?” Jaxon asked in a deep gruff voice, the tone betraying how turned on he was as well as his engorged sex which was like a steel bar against my hip.
My eyes roamed over his face. “Yes, please. I want this, I want you,” I panted with my hands against his chest.
“Sit up and lift your arms,” he instructed and I did as he asked, he was the tutor, and I was the student. I would have done anything he said at that point, I was so aroused. The anticipation of what was to come made me quiver with excitement. Jaxon only had to kiss me to make me wet and my whole body was on fire.
I raised my arms and Jaxon lifted his shirt over my head, I could smell his scent as the garment skirted over my face. I heard his sharp intake of breath as he discarded it, his eyes feasting on my bared breasts. Feeling shy, I went to cover myself with my hands but Jaxon caught my wrists dragging them back to the bed.
“No, don’t cover yourself. You’re beautiful, Wynter, everywhere.”
Smiling up at him with complete trust, I sat there, naked to the waist and allowed him to look his fill, my nipples hard with my arousal.
Jaxon whipped the sheet off us to the bottom of the bed. “So, fucking perfect,” he whispered as he lifted his hands to cup both my breasts, his thumbs stroking over my nipples. I filled his hands so perfectly and I moaned as he fondled me there, stroking me.
His dark gaze was flooded with desire as he pushed me gently back onto the bed, throwing one of his legs over mine. His tongue then replaced his fingers as he lowered his head and drew one of my nipples into his mouth, savouring it. I lifted my hands and sunk them into his hair, holding him against me as I felt the first flutter of my climax.
Electric-type shocks went through my body as my back arched and I pushed up towards his mouth. I had never felt anything so unbelievably erotic as he touched, licked and nibbled me there and I couldn’t wait for him to be inside me.
“Oh my God, that’s so good,” I panted, my eyes closing as he continued that sweet torture.
“You like that,” Jaxon whispered against my skin. He then pushed himself up and halfway over me, propping himself up on his elbows and started to kiss me again.
I was lost in the madness of the sensations he was creating and I trembled as he ran one hand down my body, gliding past my navel.
I gasped as Jaxon slid his hand into my underwear and cupped the heart of me. No man had ever touched me there. My legs parted automatically and he started to stroke me, his thumb moving against my clit .
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more insane, Jaxon slid one large finger into the folds of my sex. The heel of his palm against my core. I moaned into his mouth as he then slid another finger inside me. His tongue pushed between my lips at the same time as his fingers drove into me.
“You’re so wet. So ready,” he said against my lips. “You make me feel like a horny teenager.”
I couldn’t agree more as my body jack-knifed against his hand and my first orgasm was ripped from my body. “That’s it, baby,” Jaxon said. “Cum for me.” And my muscles tightened around his fingers as I did just that.
It was the most erotic feeling and my entire body was singing. The fluttering sensation in my pelvis throbbed, milking my climax.
Jaxon then lifted his head and kissed my nose, withdrawing his hand from my underwear.
He looked down into my eyes like he could see into my soul. “And now for the best part,” Jaxon chuckled with a sexy smile and my heart rate doubled in speed.
“Do I need to be careful Wynter?”
“What?” I panted, my body damp with sweat. My hands were on his shoulders and they were shaking.
“Do you understand what I’m asking? Do I need to take it slow?”
Jaxon wanted me to confirm his suspicions that I was a virgin. “Yes, please. Be careful.”
“I’ll try my best,” he replied, running his fingers lovingly down my face before pushing up and off the bed.
“Will it hurt?” I questioned innocently as he walked towards his discarded trousers and retrieved his wallet. He turned his head toward me as he withdrew a foiled packeted condom.
“I’ll be as gentle as I can be and yes, it may hurt but not for long. You just need to relax, OK? ”
I nodded as he dropped his wallet and walked towards the bottom of the bed, I pushed up on my elbows drinking him in. He looked magnificent in those boxers; his massive hard-on, pushing against the material. I remembered when I’d curved my hand around it that day in the kitchen.
I was laid on the bed, spread out before him like some type of human sacrifice and I loved it.
Without one word, Jaxon pushed his boxers down his thighs and stood before me in all his manly glory, his large penis was pushing up towards his navel. That man V of his muscles framing his cock. He was such a confident male as he stood naked before me. I pushed the thought of how many women had seen him like that from my mind.
After tearing open the packet, Jaxon rolled the condom over his broad, throbbing length. He then crawled onto the bed and positioned himself over my body, his hands sliding my knickers down my legs, exposing me to his eyes.
I could see the desire on his face as he roamed over that special place between my thighs; taking in the dark nest of hair there.
“Open your legs, I want to see you,” he whispered and I did as he asked, feeling a burst of nerves flitter through me.
I jerked as his hand cupped me again, his thumb caressing that small bud of my sex.
“So, fucking perfect and so mine,” he stated, confidence and ownership stamped on me with those few words.
Jaxon then moved into position, guiding himself towards my entrance and I almost stopped breathing as I felt the thick blunt head of his cock touch me there.
He then moved further over me, caging me against the bed with his massive frame and I then felt him sliding slowly into me. The concentration on his face was fierce and he used his thigh to push my legs further apart.
“Fuck me, you’re tight,” he said, closing his eyes. His face was almost pained .
Jaxon’s chest rubbed against my already sensitive nipples as he continued to push inside of me and I felt a feeling of discomfort. Surely that wasn’t it?
I flinched slightly and closed my eyes, my fists curling against the mattress.
“Open your eyes and look at me Wynter,” Jaxon husked. “I want to see you when I fill you.” And I did, staring up in wonder into his beautiful face.
After dropping a quick kiss on my mouth, he then thrust himself the rest of the way, burying himself inside my body to the hilt. I cried out, the feeling so immense, like I was suddenly full and Jaxon stopped, holding himself above me. His forceful possession was a shock even though I’d expected some pain.
“I’m sorry sweetheart,” he whispered, raining kisses across my face. “I will never hurt you again.” The way he said those words, I believed him and my heart swelled in my chest.
Jaxon waited until he had stretched me and I’d accepted his size and then he started to move.
Each stroke was long and smooth and that aching slowly started to subside, replaced by pleasure. A frenzied feeling took me over and I opened my legs wider, my hands caressing those flexing muscles of his back. I watched every sinfully beautiful expression as Jaxon withdrew and then slammed into me again, my hips rising to meet each thrust and I threw my head back against the pillows as my second climax started to build. The magic in my pelvis was pure sin as he rode me towards another mind-blowing orgasm.
He drove into me harder and faster and I savoured every stroke.
As Jaxon placed a hand between my legs and pushed down on my clit, I felt myself so close to the edge.
“Oh my God, I love this—you,” I panted against his mouth, partly unaware of what I was saying. My words forced him to ram his lips down over mine and kiss me hungrily, like a starved man. His tongue was now forceful as it entered my mouth, almost savage and out of control and I fucking loved it. I tugged at his hair as our tongues tangled .
With one last stroke of his body, he took me even higher and I glorified in his possession.
Jaxon then lifted his head and his eyes locked on mine. “I want to see you when you cum,” he said in a ragged breath and with one last pump, I screamed out my release as Jaxon too fell over the edge with me, and I felt the heat of him as he spilt himself, his entire body clenching as he rode the wave of his own orgasm, spasms wrenching his tight frame.
He lowered himself carefully so he wouldn’t squash me, beaded with sweat and we were both breathing heavily. I could smell the heady scent of sex in the air.
Jaxon’s hot frame was pressing me into the mattress, his head resting on my breast and we lay like that for a while.
“Are you OK?” Jaxon asked as he pushed up onto his elbows, his biceps flexing.
I smiled as he pushed a chunk of hair from my face and nodded.
“Good. We should get some sleep.” He spoke to me tenderly and it made me feel true happiness.
My body was still buzzing and although I felt sore, I revelled in it. I was now a woman and no longer a silly little girl. I had given my virginity to Jaxon, the man I cared about—loved. What!? Where did that come from? I had strong feelings yes, but love ?
As Jaxon pushed out of bed and dealt with the condom, I decided not to overanalyse what he felt about me. What we had just shared had been amazing and he had to have some feelings for me. Didn’t he?
As Jaxon rejoined me in bed, he pulled the sheet which was at the bottom of the bed over our bodies and spooned me all night
That was the night I lost my virginity and I would never forget it.
I would also never forget that in the throes of passion, I had whispered those three all-important words.
Fuck.