Chapter 44
Forty-Four
NOW | SISK
When I wake up, it takes me a full minute to figure out where I am. The mystery of how I got here is a puzzle with half the pieces missing, and the biggest piece is the warm, solid body currently taking up most of the bed. Jax.
I squint at him. He’s actually asleep. Not the fake I’m resting my eyes sleep he does when he wants to avoid a conversation, but the real, dead-to-the-world deal. From the next room, a foghorn-like snore confirms O is also out cold.
I shift to move, but a hand shoots out, clamping onto my forearm like a bear trap.
Jax pulls me back against him without opening his eyes.
I have no idea if he’s doing this on autopilot or if he’s secretly awake and just being a possessive bastard.
Either way, a smile I can’t stop spreads across my face.
I wriggle closer, burrowing into the space under his arm and resting my head on his solid chest.
Yep. Still it. My favorite place in the entire world: tucked in under all that muscle.
Okay, okay… reality check. We both stink like we wrestled a mob and lost. He, specifically, could use a fire hose and an industrial-sized stick of deodorant.
But as I lean in, I take a deep, shameless whiff.
It’s just… him. And my stupid, traitorous body is into it.
A low, insistent clench between my legs tells me so.
Fuck, I’m the monster—the man just killed and fought for me hours ago, and he needs the rest, and all I can think about is using his body.
Still, my hand starts its own exploration, tracing the hard lines of his abs, each ridge a testament to the power hidden in his body.
My fingers drift higher, through the light trail of hair on his chest, soft and springy against my skin.
I follow it down, over the sharp plane of his stomach, my fingers catching on the deep V of muscle at his hips and then the tantalizing trail of hair that points south like a roadmap to exactly where I want to go.
My fingers pause there, just above the waistband of his boxers, feeling the heat radiating from him.
He’s just lying here so perfectly and it’s soooo unfair. He barely stirs as my mind starts drafting a very dirty to-do list. Things I could do to him right now. Things he might sleep through entirely… Yeah, that’s a line. A big, bright, don’t-cross-it line.
“Hey,” I whisper. “Is it bad if I start sucking your dick while you’re asleep?”
His voice is thick with sleep, “Only if I catch you.”
Before I can even process the mortification, he turns. In one smooth, powerful move, he rolls, pinning me beneath him. “I’m awake now.” He dips his head, his lips brushing over my neck, and my back arches off the bed on a gasp.
“And it’s my turn.”
“To what?”
“My turn to lick and suck. I want you soaking my face.”
“What if…” I start half protesting.
“O wakes up?” He asks. “He’ll live.”
“I was gonna say… what if you lose control?”
He stills. The heat in his eyes flickers and I immediately want to staple my mouth shut. Stupid, stupid, Sisk. Why did I have to say anything? I just broke the perfect, filthy moment with a bucket of reality.
I reach up and turn his face toward me, forcing him to look at me. “One hundred percent honesty from now on, okay? No more running.”
He takes a deep breath. “I’m good now. It resets after… you know…” He struggles to say it.
“Hurting people?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he rasps, his voice rough. “After… killing. At least for a while.”
“Okay,” I breathe, my heart aching for him.
“Okay that I fucking kill people?”
“No. Okay, as in I get it.”
He leans his forehead against mine, the tension in his shoulders still tight. “Okay enough that you still want me to make you come, okay?”
The relief that washes over me is so intense it’s dizzying. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down, needing him closer. “Is it bad if I say yes?”
“Bad rabbit, good girl,” he murmurs, and then he’s moving again.
He doesn’t just kiss me; he consumes me.
His lips trail down my neck, my collarbone, pausing to press a soft, lingering kiss over my heart.
His hands move to the hem of my shirt, which I just then notice isn’t my ripped top from the alley but one of O’s worn, soft beer tees.
Jax must have changed me while I was asleep—I must have been completely exhausted to not remember any of it.
An intense thrill goes through me. I wish I could have seen his face, to catch the look in his eyes as he undressed my unconscious body.
He peels the shirt away with a slowness that feels like a torture technique.
He leans down, his mouth closing over my nipple.
He sucks and I let out a loud, uninhibited moan, and his hand instantly comes up to cover my mouth.
“I need you to be quiet. Can you do that?” His other hand continues its work, rolling and pinching my neglected nipple between his fingers, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me. I nod frantically against his palm.
When I mumble a muffled “yes” against his hand, he finally moves to the other breast, giving it the same devastating attention.
His tongue swirls around the peak before his teeth graze the sensitive bud, making me gasp and arch into him, the sound swallowed by his hand still pressed firmly over my lips.
His mouth leaves a trail of fire down my body. He settles between my legs, his broad shoulders forcing my thighs apart. His hands are firm as he pushes my legs wider, a silent, dominant command that I have no choice but to obey.
He leans down, but instead of tasting me, he just blows a soft, warm breath against my slick, swollen clit.
It’s a feather-light touch, a ghost of a sensation, and it’s more torturous than any direct contact could ever be.
I gasp so loud, searing and desperate, that I have to slap my own hand over my mouth to keep from screaming.
“Patience, rabbit.” Then his mouth is on me, with a confident, masterful assault.
His tongue flicks against my clit, circling it, teasing it until I’m writhing beneath him, my hands fisting in his hair.
He looks up at me, and I watch, transfixed, as his eyes shift, the grayish blue bleeding into a deep, terrifying, beautiful red.
The air around us suddenly changes, a strange, weightless feeling takes over me, and I realize with a startled shock that my body is lifting from the blanket, hovering a few inches in the air.
I try to close my legs, a wave of instinctual panic washing over me, but I can’t.
An invisible force, his magic, is pinning them open, holding me completely immobile, exposed and vulnerable to his every whim.
“Jax,” I whimper.
“What do you say if you want me to stop Sisk?”
“Jax,” I try moving my arms, can’t.
“What do you say Sisk?”
“I say Scotch.”
He smirks and then he slides two fingers at once inside me. He sucks my clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking against it in a relentless rhythm, and I can barely hold my scream in. He’s edging me, pulling me right to the brink, only to back off, leaving me gasping and desperate.
“Jax, please,” I whimper again, the words torn from my throat.
“Please what?” he looks at me, his red eyes glowing with a dark, curious light.
“Please make me cum,” I breathe, the admission a surrender.
He slowly removes his fingers, and for a heartbreaking second, I think he’s going to deny me.
Then he rams three back into me this time, a sudden, full thrust that steals my breath.
A choked cry escapes me, and for the first time, I think he could probably fit his entire fist if he wanted, because I’m no longer just wet.
I’m molding to him, my body stretching to accommodate him.
I’m pretty sure it’s dripping down my ass like an open faucet, the evidence of my desire pooling on the blanket beneath me.
He doesn’t move, letting me feel the full, overwhelming stretch.
“Is this what you wanted little rabbit? To be so full you can’t think?”
I can’t answer. I can only moan, my hips bucking involuntarily, trying to get him to move, to give me the friction I so desperately crave. He’s watching me, his gaze fixed on my face, on my breasts as they bounce with every grind. It’s too much. It’s not enough.
He leans down and sucks my clit into his mouth, and the pleasure that’s been building inside me finally shatters.
I convulse in the air, a puppet on his strings, as I ride out the intense, overwhelming pleasure.
But he doesn’t come up for air. He stays nose deep in my pussy, his tongue lapping up every drop of my release, a low growl vibrating against my most sensitive skin.
When I finally come back to myself, boneless and trembling, he plunges his tongue inside me, tasting what he’s done.
His magic eases me down to the mattress as he keeps me right there, pinned by his mouth.
And then, without ever breaking contact, his tongue begins a long, slow, impossibly intimate journey up my body.
He moves from my core, tracing a wet, hot path over my stomach, between my breasts, up my throat, until he reaches my mouth.
He kisses me until I can’t separate myself from his taste.
Jax collapses against me, his head on my chest. I wrap my arms around him, holding him tight, my body still humming with the aftershocks.
“I think that deserves a thank you,” I say, unashamed.
He just laughs and presses a soft kiss to my breast. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, rabbit. Now that I know you can handle Riot… we’re just getting started.”
I smile. “By the way, I think I’ve won.”
“No fucking way. You’re moving in. No arguing.”
“I never broke character,” I protest.
“I almost lost a fucking tooth back there, I think I deserve the win.”
“Fine,” I huff, a smile playing on my lips. “But I still want the piercings.”
“And I still want your ass.”
“Deal,” I say, and he looks up at me.
In that moment, even after everything that has happened, in those beautiful red eyes, all I see is the boy who always did everything for me.