Chapter 133 - 0133: Your Body’s Screaming Hard For Me To Take It

Chapter 133: Chapter 0133: Your Body’s Screaming Hard For Me To Take It

Elena’s Point Of View

His hand slid up, fingers threading into my hair at the base of my skull, gripping tightly enough to hold my head perfectly still, yet gentle enough not to pull. His mouth hovered at my ear again, his voice low, rougher than it had ever been.

I could feel the dark hunger vibrating through his entire frame, the iron-clad restraint he pridefully maintained snapping strand by strand right against my neck.

Every breath he took seemed to cost him something, a battle waged silently between the man who prized control above all else and the one who was quickly losing his grip on it because of me.

I had never seen him like this... stripped of the composure that made him so formidable, reduced to something raw and unguarded, and the sight of it undid me almost as much as his touch did.

"Bambina," he rasped, his breath hot, heavy, and ragged against my sensitive skin, "how on earth am I supposed to be strict with you when every little thing you do right now gives me a hard-on, huh?!"

And then he didn’t wait for me to answer.

His lips crashed onto mine, hard, demanding, stealing the air straight from my lungs in a sudden, brutal collision of heat and friction. The kiss was wild, a chaotic storm of teeth, tongue, and raw, pent-up need that had been simmering between us for weeks.

Before I could even gasp, before my brain could process the sudden shift from warning to possession, his mouth was parting mine with ruthless, masterful precision... claiming, tasting, devouring like he’d been starving in a desert and I was the only thing capable of keeping him alive.

There was nothing tentative in the way he kissed me, nothing that asked permission; it was a claim staked and defended in the same breath, as though some part of him feared that if he softened even slightly, I might slip through his fingers entirely. It struck me, even through the haze, that this was a man unaccustomed to wanting anything this badly, and the desperation in it felt like its own kind of confession.

My knees nearly buckled right then and there. The backs of my legs pressed harder against the vanity as my hands... traitorous, foolish, and entirely divorced from my intellect, fisted tightly into the heavy leather of his jacket.

I meant to push him away. I swear to God I intended to shove him back and assert my boundaries. But instead, my fingers curled inward, yanking him closer, pulling his massive, muscular frame flush against mine until not a whisper of air remained between us.

Every rational thought I owned dissolved the instant our bodies met, replaced by something feral and wordless that I no longer had the strength to name.

My mind screamed a chorus of no, no, no, walk away, Elena, but my body... oh God, my body, had already surrendered to the rebellion. My lips opened completely beneath his, matching his frantic, possessive heat with a feral ache of my own.

I kissed him back with desperate, starved intensity, meeting the slick glide of his tongue with my own, tasting the single-malt whiskey, the mint, and the dangerous, intoxicating heat that was uniquely Jaxx.

Somewhere beneath the haze of want, a small, quiet voice reminded me how long it had been since anyone had touched me like I mattered, like I was something to be devoured rather than dismissed, and that realization frightened me almost as much as it thrilled me.

I hated how much I craved it, how starved I had been for exactly this kind of attention without ever admitting it to myself.

A low, primal groan rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating straight through his jaw and into my mouth. I could feel the violent battle taking place inside him... the war between the strict, self-imposed restraint he’d bragged about just seconds ago and the animalistic urge to tear this silk dress off my shoulders and take me right here on the vanity.

He fought himself so hard that his jaw clenched between deep, bruising presses of his lips, his breath coming in jagged, ragged growls, as though surrender to me was somehow more terrifying than any battle he’d ever fought.

For a man who commanded rooms and people with a single glance, watching him lose that command over something as simple as a kiss felt like witnessing a secret no one else had ever been allowed to see.

An irresistible, dangerous impulse flared in my chest. I almost smirked right against his skin, amused and intoxicated by the sheer power I held over this terrifyingly controlled man, if only my mouth hadn’t been so thoroughly devoured by his in that moment.

There was a heady thrill in knowing that I, of all people, could reduce him to this... could make the unshakeable Jaxx shake.

His hands slid down from my hair, tracking a scorching trail down the exposed skin of my neck, mapping the curve of my shoulders, and roaming the full length of my bare back where the gown gaped open. He cupped my waist, his broad palms burning through the thin fabric, before sliding upward with a sudden, possessive grip that hauled me off my feet just an inch, cupping my breasts through the silk.

I gasped into the kiss, the sound swallowed whole by his mouth. His thumbs pressed upward, dragging deliberately over my hardened nipples through the cloth, and I arched into his touch without thinking, a pathetic, desperate whimper slipping from my throat.

Shame flickered somewhere at the edge of my consciousness, distant and useless, drowned out entirely by the roar of sensation he commanded from my body with such devastating ease. I had spent so long guarding myself against exactly this kind of vulnerability, and yet here I was, dismantled in minutes by a man who seemed to know my body better than I did.

"Jaxx..." I gasped against his lips, the word coming out as half plea, half curse.

He swallowed the sound with another kiss, deeper, filthier, angling my head back until my throat lay entirely exposed to him. His tongue swept into my mouth as though he owned every inch of it, twisting with mine, leaving me trembling, utterly dizzy, and drowning in sensory overload.

His fingers pinched my nipples lightly through the silk, then rolled them with just enough pressure to send a sharp, agonizing bolt of electricity shooting straight down between my thighs. My legs pressed together automatically, desperately trying to ease the throbbing ache building low in my belly, but nothing could dampen the fever he was stoking.

He tore his mouth from mine with a wet, ragged sound, only to trail a line of open-mouthed, bruising kisses down the column of my throat. He sucked hard at the soft, sensitive spot beneath my ear, pulling the skin between his teeth until I cried out softly, my head falling back helplessly against his shoulder.

His teeth scraped against my skin, followed immediately by the soothing, wet heat of his tongue, and my whole body shivered violently in his grip. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered how thoroughly he had dismantled every careful wall I’d built, how effortlessly he reduced me to nothing but sensation and need.

It should have terrified me more than it did, this ease with which he stripped away every defense I had spent years constructing.

"You feel that?" he whispered harshly against my skin, his voice scraped raw. His lips brushed the corner of my mouth as his hands kneaded my breasts again, rougher this time, squeezing with a heavy, possessive rhythm. "Your body’s screaming for me to take it. You feel how hard you’re shaking for me, Elena?"

I shook my head weakly, trying to summon an ounce of pride, but the moan that broke free from my throat betrayed me completely. "No..."

"Liar," he growled, cutting off my frail denial with another brutal, possessive press of his mouth.

His hips snapped forward, pinning me with crushing force against the hard edge of the wood behind me, and I felt him clearly... thick, rock-hard, straining violently against the denim of his jeans.

The sheer heat and size of him seared through the thin layers of our clothing, and I gasped, clutching at his shoulders as the heavy ache inside me twisted tighter, demanding more, demanding everything I was trying so hard to deny myself.

Some distant, rational fragment of my mind understood exactly what surrendering to this moment would cost me, and yet that knowledge felt impossibly small against the overwhelming force of what he made me feel.

Every warning I had ever given myself about men like him crumbled beneath the simple, devastating truth of how badly I wanted this.

"You’re soaked already, aren’t you, bambina?" he murmured wickedly against my lips, his breath fanning hot over my damp skin.

His hand left my breast and slid lower, dragging slowly over my stomach, dipping beneath the waist of the gown, threatening to travel down to the place where I needed him most. "You want my fingers inside you right now. Tell me you don’t."

I shuddered, breathless, entirely undone, torn violently between pushing him away to save my life and begging him on my knees not to stop.