“Oh God, did you really just ask me that?”
“Can I lick—”
“Yes. Yes, you can lick me there.”
He laughs, low and deep, the sound rumbling from his chest, whispering out of his mouth, fading with his tongue on my clit. I arch into the intimate play of his tongue and moan when his mouth comes down fully on me, suckling, even as he slides a finger inside me, and then another, my sex clenching in response. My hips lifting. He’s ruthless with his tongue, licking here and there, in all the right places, suckling then licking again. My fingers grab for the blanket, twist anywhere they can find to twist. I arch into his touch, and fight to find my orgasm, but he doesn’t let me have it. I pant his name, and he pulls back. I’m almost there again, and he pulls back yet again. It’s not until I pretty much yell his name in desperation that he proves he reads me like a book. He licks just right and thrusts his fingers just right, and the force of the spams overtake me. Jax doesn’t let those few intense seconds be it. He eases his tongue and fingers, in a slow sensual perfect pace until I melt into the mattress in utter satisfaction.
He returns to me, his knee hitting the mattress, the sweet weight of his perfect body on top of mine; the thick ridge of his erection presses to the wet heat of my sex where I want him. “We’re not them,” he says, his thumb stroking my cheek. “They don’t decide who we are or what we are together.”
I don’t have to ask who he means. He means the Norths and the Knights. “We can’t hide from who we are.”
He pushes inside me, sliding deep and settling in, his hand cupping my backside. “We aren’t denying anything. You’re Emma fucking Knight, and I’m Jax fucking North and fuck the rest of them if they don’t like it.” He rolls with me then, and suddenly, I’m on top of him, staring down at this gorgeous man. And he’s not staring at my body. He’s watching my face, searching for my reaction, and I don’t make him guess.
I lean forward, my hands on either side of him, my face close to his face. “I know why you just did this.”
“Why?” he asks softly, a gentle prod.
“To give me control. Only I don’t want control. Not right now. Later, yes, but not now. And you know why? Because you did it to prove something to me, and you have nothing to prove to me, Jax North. Nothing at all.”
His fingers catch in my hair, and he drags my mouth to his, but he doesn’t kiss me. We linger there, breathing together, seconds ticking by in slow motion. And in those seconds, there is warmth, intimacy, and so much silent push and pull that I can barely breathe. I feel this man like I have never felt another man, ever. Like I didn’t know I could feel another human being. “God, woman,” he whispers, “what are you doing to me?” He doesn’t give me time to reply.
He rolls us, and suddenly, we’re on our sides, face to face, our bodies molded close and so very intimate. “How about we share control?” he asks, his hand on my backside, pulling me forward, as he nestles deeper inside me, the feel of him stretching me, clenching my sex all over again.
“Good,” I whisper. “It’s good.”
“Good?” he asks, his fingers catch my nipple, and heat rushes over my neck and across my chest. “Just good?” His fingers flex on my backside, and he arches into me, thrusting hard, sensations rocketing through me. “Just good?” he demands again, his hand running over my hair and tilting my mouth to his. “Are you sure?” He thrusts again and moans with pleasure, but somehow, I still manage to tease him.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Good.”
His lips curve, and even before the next thrust, there’s no denying that his body and my body together aren’t the only thing a whole lot better than good. Everything about me with this man is a whole lot better than good. Except, of course, the hate between our families.
I’m lost in Jax, and I can no longer remember why that might be dangerous. Nothing this good could be bad. And Jax really does feel good; we feel good. He doesn’t press me to tell him how good. He lets that tease go. Instead, he kisses me, and we begin this slow, seductive dance, our bodies moving and grinding together. Our breathing heavy, mingling together, lips touching and parting, our tongues licking and withdrawing. I’m lost, and somehow, I’m found with this man. A woman everyone wants for her last name, while Jax wants me despite that name.