Chapter 18 #2
“Good girl.” He steps back, gesturing toward the center of the room. “Stand there. Let me admire you.”
It’s such a simple instruction, but my knees feel unsteady as I move into place. He circles me once, like an artist deciding where the first brushstroke will fall.
“Tonight is about trust.” He stops behind me. “And I intend to earn it in ways no one else ever will.”
He moves my hair aside, and his lips graze the bare skin beneath my ear. The warmth of his breath sinks into me like an unspoken vow. Equal parts promise and threat.
My insides set ablaze, and I’m just waiting for him to take over.
“Follow me.” His voice is low, commanding.
He takes my hand. His grip is firm yet reassuring, and he leads me out of the foyer.
We walk down a hallway I’ve never entered before, lined with soft recessed lighting that casts a warm, intimate glow. The air is charged, like the space itself is alive with anticipation.
We stop at a door. He opens it and steps aside, allowing me to enter first. The room steals the air from my lungs.
The walls are a deep matte black, absorbing the dim light and creating an atmosphere that feels both serene and electric. A large red padded bench sits in the center, its leather smooth and inviting.
Shelves line the walls, displaying an array of carefully arranged items. Some familiar, others mysterious. The space was decorated with a purpose that sends chills over my skin.
“Jax, this is beautiful.” I glance his way, a sliver of panic slipping in.
He didn’t tell me I could speak. Maybe I messed up.
He studies me for a moment but doesn’t reprimand me.
“Livianna, I had this room designed for you.” His voice is steady but edged with something deeper. “I’ve never brought another woman here. This place is just for us.”
His words hit me like a wave, making my heart pound. “For us?”
He nods, his gaze unwavering. “For us. For the trust we’re building.”
“Thank you.” I lower my head in submission. “I appreciate your graciousness.”
“You’re more than welcome.” He steps closer, his presence filling the room. “This is where I let go with you. And tonight, it’s where you learn to trust me.”
“Yes, sir.” My chest rises and falls too fast. Every cell in my body knows something irreversible is about to happen.
“Turn around.” His words brush over me before his hands do.
I obey, turning in a slow, full circle.
His gaze drags down the length of me, lingering in ways that’s both intimate and appraising. He doesn’t rush or soften the silence. He wants me to feel the weight of being seen.
His fingers slide to my jaw, tilting my head up, and forcing me to meet the passion in his eyes. “You’re doing so well.”
The praise hits like a current. My knees threaten to buckle.
“I’m going to unzip your dress.” The zipper slides down my spine, his knuckles grazing where the fabric parts.
I step out of it, warm air teasing across my bare skin. His hand settles at the small of my back, guiding me forward until my hips meet the edge of a low table.
“Hands here.”
The wood is cool beneath my palms. His hard, muscular body radiates heat behind me without yet making contact.
“You give me every reaction.” His voice is low. “And I decide what you get in return.”
I shiver. “Yes, sir.”
“Two words you need to remember. Pause, if you need something changed, adjusted, or slowed. Final, if you want to stop altogether. You use either, I stop immediately. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
His palm skims down my shoulder, the curve of my waist, then around to my stomach, flattening there and holding me still. His other hand slides up the inside of my thigh until his fingers find the wetness already pooling for him.
“You’re ready.” It’s not a question.
He strokes me once, slow and purposeful before pulling away entirely.
The sound that leaves me is half protest, half plea. “Sir…”
His lips press near my ear. “Patience, firecracker. I said I’d carry you until you can’t take any more. We’re not there yet.”
A soft blindfold slips over my eyes, shutting out everything except the sound of his breathing and the sensation of his hands. Leather cuffs wrap my wrists. They are not tight, only snug enough to remind me that I have given myself to him.
He lifts me to a standing position and begins to move around me. His presence shifts with each pass. Sometimes he is close enough for his chest to touch mine. Other times, he’s far enough that I strain to sense where he is.
When his mouth finally claims mine, it’s not soft. It’s possession. His tongue sweeps deep and his teeth graze my lips until I gasp.
The cuffs are tugged above my head and secured to something overhead. I can’t see what. I only feel the way it changes my body, opening me to him completely.
He steps in, his thigh pressing between mine and forcing me to rock against the solid muscle as his mouth trails down my throat. Every kiss feels like a mark, even if I can’t see it yet.
“You’ve wanted this since the first night you stayed at my place.” His hands close around my hips, pulling me tighter against his thighs. “Say it.”
“I’ve been wanting this since the first night I stayed at your place.”
“You’ve already given me so much more than I expected. But here, in this space, you’ll give me everything. And I’ll take care of you in ways you’ve never imagined.”
My pulse spikes and heat floods through my veins. If I had known I’d be this turned on by this side of Jax, I would’ve submitted a lot sooner than this.
“Thank you, sir,” I breathe.
“Now, let me show you what it means to truly let go.”
The metallic tear of foil cuts through the air. It’s a condom wrapper he just opened. He takes a moment to sheathe himself, every breath heavier, like he wants me to know exactly what’s coming.
He’s making me use all my senses to understand what he is doing. It’s the most erotic moment I’ve ever experienced.
I loved wearing a blindfold before, but with the added presence of the leather cuffs, I am already climbing toward my climax.
He lifts me and wraps my legs around his waist. In the same movement, he slides into me, thick and hot and relentless, pushing in slow enough to stretch every nerve and fill every inch.
A cry of pleasure rips from my throat. I still have to adjust and get used to him when he enters me, but it’s the best feeling in the world.
His hand underneath me anchors my body while the other kneads my breast, his thumb circling the tightened peak. He moves with precision, each stroke measured and emotional, as if he is memorizing me from the inside out.
Every sound he draws from me is answered with a more brutal thrust and a firmer grip, which I crave.
“Livianna.” He presses his lips to my forehead and lingers there. “You are safe here. With me. Always.”
Something deep in me blooms at those words, and it scares me more than the blindfold or the cuffs ever could.
Because I believe him, and that’s a sure way to a broken heart.