Chapter 68
Sixty-Eight
THEN | SISK
“Put me down!” I yell, but it’s useless. He just laughs and hoists me over his shoulder. The world tilts, his shoulder digging into my stomach as he takes the stairs two at a time.
“And let you run? Not a fucking chance.”
“I’m gonna puke,” I gasp, the jostling making my head spin. “All over you.”
Jax kicks open a door at the top of the stairs and sets me down unceremoniously.
“What is this?” I push myself up, looking around the empty space. There’s nothing but bare wooden floors, no bed, no couch. In one corner, a pile of blankets sits on the floor, and next to it, a mountain of clothes with a single box sitting against the wall. “Some kind of… murder loft?”
I wander over, kicking at it with my foot. A belt and a pocketknife fall out. “Great,” I say, holding it up. “Kidnapping and stabbing.”
He just grins, kicking off his shoes. “You caught me.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you really sleeping in the storage room?”
“This is an apartment,” he says. “You’re just blind to potential.”
He drops onto the floor and stretches out across the planks.
“Now, shut up and sit down.”
“Oh sure,” I say, looking around dramatically. “Let me just choose between all these luxurious seating options.”
Jax grins, then makes a V with two fingers and sticks out his tongue, flicking it obscenely through the gap. “Best seat in the house,” he growls. “Come here, Rabbit. Let’s see if you talk this much when you’re sitting on my tongue.”
I stare at him, then look around the room again like I might suddenly discover a chair.
“Strip,” he commands. “Slow. I want to watch every inch.”
My breath hitches, but I play it cool, reaching for the hem of my shirt.
He starts humming, some low, dirty-sounding tune I don’t recognize as his eyes stay locked on me, dark and hungry. “That’s it,” he murmurs as the shirt comes off. “Every fucking piece.”
My fingers tremble as I peel it up, my skin prickling under his intense gaze. The rest of my clothes follow, pooling on the dirty floor.
He watches me, relaxed on the floor like he has all night. I step closer, naked and vulnerable, stopping right in front of his legs.
“Now crawl,” he orders, his voice a feral scrape of sound. “Crawl up my body.”
Thank fuck for the alcohol burning through my veins, because I sink to my knees without a second thought.
“Yeah, just like that. Put your hands on the floor. And, Rabbit”—he pauses, and I pause too—“eyes on me.”
I crawl over him until I’m hovering above his chest. He’s the only person I can be this vulnerable with; he could order me to bark right now and I’d probably do it with a smile. It’s shocking how easy it is to obey him, how good it feels to just let go and let him run the show.
He grabs the back of my neck, pulling me down for a hard kiss, but it’s not a kiss; it’s years of nothing crashing into this single moment as his tongue is in my mouth instantly, claiming, his free hand clamping down on the small of my back to press me against him while the other is still fisted in my hair.
Last time I let him fuck me, he didn’t let me come. There’s no way I’m walking out of here without an orgasm. Even if I have to choke him as I sit on his face.
His hands leave my hair and my back, moving with a purpose that makes my whole body tense in anticipation.
They find my breasts, his thumbs and forefingers closing around my nipples, rolling them between his fingers.
It’s a proprietary touch, like he’s testing to make sure I’m still his, that my body still responds to him like it always has.
It does. Fuck, it does. My back arches, pushing my chest further into his hands.
He shoves me back quickly. “Turn around. Ass to my face.”
He grabs my leg, flips me over, and then—smack—his hand comes down hard on my ass. The sting makes me yelp, a shocked sound that’s half pain, half surprise.
“Still like it rough?” he asks, his voice a smug taunt.
I can’t form words. I’m liquid, pliant, completely at his mercy. I just wiggle my ass back at him, a silent, desperate plea for more.
He gives it to me. Another slap, harder this time. Then another. He grips my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh, and pulls me down the final inch.
It’s been a long time since we did this, and it’s for sure nothing compared to the sex I have been having.
Partially my fault because I haven’t told any of the guys I slept with, not even Lucas, about my fantasies.
Partially because what we have isn’t replicable.
And even if it was, I don’t want this with anyone else.
His tongue is everything. Hot, relentless, and impossibly precise.
The cool metal of his nose piercing presses against my most sensitive skin with every pass, a shocking counterpoint to the heat.
He’s not just tasting me; he’s devouring me.
He moves from my clit to my entrance, exploring.
Between each long stroke, he sinks his teeth into the tender skin of my inner thigh, right where it meets my ass.
It’s not a gentle nip; it’s a sharp, possessive bite that makes me jump and gasp, sending jolts of pleasure up my core.
“Fuck, I could eat you alive,” he groans, his voice a muffled vibration against my skin. “Tonight this city learns the only one who gets to satisfy its hunger for you… is me.”
I try to say his name, but it dissolves into a string of loud, shameless moans.
He doesn’t just go back to my clit. He changes his angle, and I feel the flat of his tongue pressing against my ass, the lick makes my whole body lock up in shock.
“Fuck, Rabbit,” he growls against my skin.
“I want to savor every fucking inch of you.” He does it again, and again, his tongue swirling and probing, filthy and possessive.
Then I feel his fingers at my entrance. He pushes one inside, slow and deep.
“So tight,” he growls. “If you can take my cock, you can take this.” He adds a second finger, scissoring them, stretching me open.
The stretch burns, but it’s a good burn, a pressure that makes me grind down against his face.
“Tell me, little rabbit,” he says as he works a third finger into me.
“Did you miss me? Miss me tasting you?” He curls his fingers, hitting that spot inside me that makes me want to cry in pleasure.
“All this time you were away, was it me up in your head? Did you squirm at night hoping I would stop by to do this?”
I can’t answer. I can only moan, pushing back against his hand, his tongue. He adds a fourth finger, the stretch now almost overwhelming. He’s fucking me with his hand now, his tongue still lapping at my ass, and it’s too much, it’s everything.
Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he pulls his fingers out and his mouth moves, latching onto my clit.
He sucks so hard that it’s all I need. For a terrifying second, I’m afraid I’ll crush him, that my legs will give out completely.
But he knows. He always knows. His grip on my legs tightens, pulling me down, sealing his mouth as the orgasm shatters through me.
It’s violent and overwhelming. I scream his name as he groans, feeling every pulse, drinking down everything I give him.
He holds me there until the shaking subsides, until I’m a boneless, trembling mess. With a strength that still takes me by surprise, he flips me onto my back. I bury my face in his neck, mortified by the intensity of it all.
His hand comes down, cupping my pussy. It’s not to arouse; it’s to comfort, to ground me, letting me feel the last echoes of pleasure as the tremors slowly fade.
“Fucking pitfire,” I manage to gasp against his skin.
He lets out a low, satisfied chuckle. “Miss you too, babe.” He tilts his head, capturing my mouth in a slow, deep kiss that’s the complete opposite of the first one. This one is lazy, the sweep of his tongue makes my already weak limbs feel like jelly.
I taste every trace of my release from his mouth, his chin. My hand wanders on its own, tracing the hard lines of his abs. I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to lick it all.
I bite and lick my way down his body, a trail of sharp nips and wet licks, until I reach the waistband of his pants. He hisses, his abs clenching under my touch.
I pull back. “I should leave my mark and walk out right now,” I murmur, my fingers hooking into his belt loop. “Payback for last time.”
His hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist. “Not fucking happening,” he growls, his eyes flashing.
I laugh, a low, breathy sound. “Lucky for you,” I lean in, my lips brushing against the rough denim of his jeans, right over his straining cock, “I’m not done playing yet.”
He lets out a ragged breath. “You miss my cock, Rabbit?”
I just nod, my eyes locked on his as I finally pull his pants down and free his dick.
“This vein right here,” I say with a slow drag of my tongue along the thick, prominent ridge on the underside. “It’s my favorite part.”
He’s bigger than I remember, thick and heavy in my hand. I lick around the head, tentatively, trying to find my rhythm, when he growls, “I don’t like it gentle either, Rabbit. Stop fucking playing. Have at it.”
I tighten my hand around him, and he hisses, “Fuuuck.”
“Like this?” I ask. Instead of waiting for an answer, I take a deep breath and sink down, taking him all the way in until my nose presses against his pubic bone. I hold him there, my throat constricting around the head of his cock, before pulling back slowly.
He hums, his eyes locking on mine, the red bleeding through his irises.
I keep the pressure, my mouth working him with a desperate rhythm. With every jerk of his hips, with every primal sound he makes, my confidence soars.