Page 142 of Tar City
“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, andhis 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.
