Chapter 186 - 0186: I’m Not Scared Of You, Jaxx Moretti

Chapter 186: Chapter 0186: I’m Not Scared Of You, Jaxx Moretti

Elena’s Point Of View

I ate in silence, hyperaware of his eyes on me. He didn’t even pretend to look at his laptop screen anymore. His gaze tracked every movement I made... every time I lifted my fork, every time I took a slow sip of coffee, every time my lips parted around a bite of toast.

I could feel the weight of his attention like a physical thing, dragging across my skin, settling low in my belly, coiling tighter with every minute that passed in that thick, charged silence. The air in the suite hummed like a live wire right before a storm breaks over the city, and I sat dead center in it, desperately pretending the sky wasn’t already black.

"You’re thinking too loud," he said suddenly.

I stopped mid-bite, my fork hovering inches from my mouth. Forcing myself to look up at him, I found him leaning back on the couch, his laptop forgotten against the cushion, his fingers tapping a restless, rhythmic beat against his thigh. There was something almost lazy about his posture, but his eyes gave him away... sharp, alert, hunting.

"What?" I asked, trying to sound completely unbothered.

"You’re overthinking." He tilted his head, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied my face with terrifying precision. "I can see the exact moment your brain starts spiraling. Your brow gets all scrunched up in the middle. Your lips press into a tight little line. And then you start chewing on your bottom lip like you’re trying to punish it."

"I am not doing any of that," I lied, immediately unclenching my jaw and letting my bottom lip slip free of my teeth... which, in hindsight, only proved his point.

"You are." His voice dropped an octave, turning low, rough, and dangerously smooth. "And it’s driving me fucking crazy, Elena."

My pulse spiked, hammering violently against my ribs. I hated how easily he read me, how transparent I became under that gaze, as if eight years apart had taught him nothing except how to look closer. "Why? Why does it bother you so much?"

He went quiet for a moment, and that silence had weight to it, pressing against my chest like something physical. "Because I don’t like competing with whatever ghost is haunting your head," he murmured at last, his gaze dropping straight to my mouth. "And because I want to be the one biting that lip. Not you."

Heat flooded my cheeks, spreading down my neck like wildfire. I opened my mouth to shoot back a sarcastic comeback, but no sound came out. My mind scrambled for footing and found none.

His eyes darkened as he registered my reaction, a slow, predatory smirk carving into his sharp features. "Nothing to say? That’s a first."

"There’s plenty I’d like to say to you," I managed, my voice steadier than I felt. "None of it polite."

"Mmm. I like you impolite." His smirk widened. "Come here, Elena."

"No," I said instantly, gripping the edge of the breakfast tray like a shield, as though a few inches of silver and porcelain could actually protect me from him.

"Come. Here." It wasn’t a request this time. It was a command delivered in a velvet purr, each word unhurried, absolutely certain I would obey.

I set the tray aside on the nightstand, my hands trembling slightly despite my best efforts to play it cool. "I’m not..."

"You’re not what?"

In one fluid, terrifyingly graceful motion, Jaxx stood. He crossed the space between the couch and the bed in three long strides, his towering presence completely swallowing the room, swallowing the light, swallowing me. He stopped right at the edge of the mattress, looming over me like a king inspecting his prized possession, and for one absurd second I thought of all the years I’d spent convincing myself I was over this... over him.

"Scared?" he taunted quietly, resting one hand against the bedpost above my head, trapping me in his space.

I looked up at him, forcing my spine to stay straight, refusing to cower. "I’m not scared of you, Jaxx Moretti."

"Good." His fingers reached out, his knuckles brushing gently beneath my jawline before curling around my chin, tilting my face up until I had no choice but to drown in those dark, golden-flecked eyes. "Then prove it."

His thumb slid upward, brushing slowly, deliberately across my lower lip.

I gasped, a sharp intake of air that smelled entirely of his expensive cologne... cedar, leather, and rain, a scent that seemed to unlock some door in my memory I’d sworn shut years ago.

"You have such a pretty mouth," he growled, his voice a low vibration that seemed to sink straight into my bones. His thumb pressed just a fraction harder, parting my lips slightly. "It’s always running, always picking fights, always trying to convince me you don’t want to be here. Such a waste, Bambina. Because this mouth could be put to so much better use."

My eyes widened. "Jaxx..."

"Shhh." His fingers slid past my jawline, burying deep into the hair at the nape of my neck, fisting gently to hold me steady. "You talk way too much."

"You are the most arrogant..."

His mouth crashed into mine, cutting off the rest of my sentence before I could even finish the thought.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss, and it certainly wasn’t a tender one. It was a claim. His lips were searing hot, demanding and unyielding, taking everything I had tried to hold back. He tasted like dark espresso and pure power, his tongue sweeping against mine with a fierce, possessive authority that made my head spin.

He bit my lower lip just hard enough to elicit a soft gasp from me, and the second my mouth parted, he pulled me flush against his chest.

I should have pushed him away. I should have slapped his shoulder. I should have reminded him that I was supposed to be angry, that I was a disaster of a human being who had just escaped a domestic nightmare. Every rational thought I owned screamed at me to stop this before it went any further.

Instead, my hands acted on their own. My fingers tangled into the soft fabric of his unbuttoned shirt, gripping him tightly, pulling him even closer until there wasn’t a single whisper of air left between us.

Jaxx let out a low, gravelly groan against my lips, the sound vibrating through my entire body and sending a wave of liquid heat pooling straight to my core.

"Fuck, Elena," he muttered, pulling his mouth from mine just long enough to drag his lips down the column of my throat. His teeth grazed the sensitive pulse point right where my neck met my shoulder, making my hips jump off the bed without my permission. "You drive me out of my goddamn mind. You always have."

I arched into his touch instinctively, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps as my nails dug into the firm muscle of his shoulders. "You’re the one... you’re the one who started this..."

"I know." His voice was a dark, amused purr against my collarbone, his teeth nipping lightly at my skin. "And I’d do it again. Every single day."

His hands slid down my sides, his large palms warm and heavy, mapping the curve of my waist before his thumbs brushed beneath the hem of the shirt I was wearing. His calloused fingers teased the bare skin of my hips, and every nerve ending I owned woke up and turned toward him.

"Two nights, Bambina," he murmured against my throat, his voice rough. "Two nights since I had you on that counter, and I haven’t been able to think about a single other thing. Have you? Have you thought about it?"

"Every night is none of your business," I whispered, though the tremor in my voice betrayed the lie before he could even call it one.

His low laugh was dark and knowing. "Liar."

His fingers dipped lower. Past the waistband of my pants. Past the lace of my panties.

And I forgot how to breathe.

His touch was electric. Two fingers, rough and calloused, slid between my folds, parting me, and the sound it made... wet, obscene, unmistakable, made my face burn. He found the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top with unerring precision, and I jerked against him, a broken sound tearing from my throat.

"Oh God..."

"That’s it," he breathed, his voice pure gravel, his fingers beginning slow, deliberate circles over my clit, savoring every second of my unraveling. "I’ve been thinking about this pussy for two days, Elena. Thinking about how hot it gets. How it drools for me the second I touch you. And look at you. I’ve barely started, and you’re already soaked through this little piece of lace."

"Jaxx..." His name came out broken, half a plea, half a warning.

"Shhh." His breath was hot against my ear, his voice a dark whisper. "Just feel, Bambina. Just this. Stop fighting. Stop thinking. Just feel my fingers, rubbing you exactly the way you like."

I couldn’t. I couldn’t think, couldn’t fight, couldn’t do anything but feel.

His fingers moved in slow, maddening circles.... then faster, then slower again, keeping me teetering right at the edge, never letting me fall over. His other hand fisted in my hair, holding me steady while he worked me into an absolute frenzy. My hips rocked into his touch, chasing the friction, my thighs trembling, my breath coming in tiny desperate sobs.

"You’re so fucking wet for me," he growled, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Always so ready. So needy. Two nights ago you soaked my whole hand, and you’re going to do it again. Right now. Right on my fingers."

"Please," I whimpered, mortified at how fast the word escaped me.

"There she is," he purred. "There’s my honest girl. Please what, Bambina? Use your words."

"Faster. Please. I’m... Jaxx, I’m close..."

"I know you are. I can feel it." His voice dropped lower, filthier. "Do you want them inside, Elena? Do you want my fingers filling this tight little pussy while I rub your clit with my thumb? Tell me. Ask me."

I hated him so much, but I needed him too... hated the way my body betrayed every ounce of pride I had left. "Put them inside," I gasped. "Please, Jaxx. Please."

"Good girl."

Two thick fingers slid deep inside me, curling up against that spot, and his thumb pressed down on my clit in a slow, devastating rhythm, and I shattered. My back arched clean off the bed, a raw cry tearing from my chest, my walls clamping down on his fingers so hard he groaned with me, pumping them slowly, working me through it, drawing it out until I trembled and sobbed and clutched his wrist with both hands, one to make him stop and one to make him never stop.

"That’s it," he growled, watching my face with dark, burning satisfaction as I fell apart. "Look at that. Look at you. Fucking beautiful. Two days I waited to see that again."

I lay there, dazed, my chest heaving, my body humming with aftershocks, my thighs still quivering around his hand as he slid his fingers free... slowly, deliberately, letting me feel every inch of the loss. His fingers glistened in the morning light, soaked, and I stared at them, too wrecked to be properly embarrassed.

And then he brought them to his lips. His tongue darted out, slow and deliberate, licking them clean, tasting me. His eyes never left mine.

"Sweet," he murmured, his voice rough. "Just like you’ll always be."

He straightened, smoothing down the front of his shirt with infuriating composure, and I caught the unmistakable strain against his pants... the proof that this had cost him too, and somehow that was the most disorienting part of all. Even wrecked, even undone, he still managed to look like a man completely in control, while I felt like I’d been turned inside out.

"Finish your breakfast, Princess," he murmured smoothly, adjusting his cuffs with slow, deliberate precision. "Before it gets cold. You’ll need your strength."

"For what?" I managed weakly.

"For later." His smirk was a dark promise. "When you ask me nicely."

He turned and casually sauntered back over to the couch, picking up his laptop as if he hadn’t just completely shattered my entire sanity and left the pieces scattered across the mattress.

I sat frozen for three whole minutes, stunned, dazed, and thoroughly rattled. My body was still thrumming, still clenched around nothing, my pulse refusing to slow. My gaze drifted slowly down to the nightstand, landing on the tray of food.

The silver tray. The half-eaten toast. The coffee mug.

Oh God.

My face flushed crimson as a sudden, vivid wave of memory crashed into my brain... two nights ago, this very suite, the things he’d done to me, the sounds I hadn’t even tried to muffle. Shame and longing tangled together so tightly I couldn’t tell which one was winning.

I grabbed the tray with jerky, desperate movements and practically bolted out of the bedroom, storming straight into the kitchenette to escape his suffocating presence.

The cool marble counter was a welcome shock beneath my hands. I placed the tray on the counter and turned on the faucet, letting the freezing water run over my wrists in an attempt to cool my burning skin. The sound of rushing water filled the quiet space, but it did nothing to quiet the chaos raging inside my head.

I picked up a plate and began scrubbing at it furiously with a sponge, my mind racing at a million miles an hour.

What the hell was I doing? What was he doing? How had he managed to reduce me from a fiery, combative woman into a breathless, begging mess in under five minutes? And why was some traitorous part of me already counting the minutes until "later"?

And then, as I stared down at the marble counter, another memory hit me, hard.

A memory from years ago. Long before Graham. Long before the darkness. Back when Jaxx and I were young, reckless, and completely out of our minds for each other.

I hadn’t remembered it until this exact second. Not until I stood right here, my palms gripping the edge of the cool marble, my cheeks flushed, his scent clinging to the air around me like it had never left.

He had trapped me right here in this exact position, years ago. He had lifted me onto the marble, his hands gripping my thighs, his broad chest pressed against mine so tightly I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and his dark voice had whispered wicked, filthy promises into my ear until I was practically begging him to kiss me.

"You’re mine, Elena," he had growled back then, his eyes burning with that same terrifying intensity. "Say it."

"I’m not saying anything to you, Moretti," I had gasped out, trying to fight the smile tugging at my lips.

"Say it, Bambina, or I won’t let you off this counter all night..."

I scrubbed the plate harder and harder, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps as the ghost of his touch seemed to burn through my clothes all over again, the memory so vivid my knees actually went weak.

"You’re going to break the dish, Bambina."

I jumped, whirling around so fast the wet sponge flew out of my hand and clattered into the sink.

Jaxx leaned casually against the archway of the kitchenette. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal the top of his chest tattoos, and his dark eyes brimmed with pure, wicked amusement... like he knew exactly what I’d been thinking about, like he’d somehow slipped inside my head and rifled through every memory I’d tried to bury.

"Get out," I snapped, my voice dangerously close to a squeak.

He tilted his head, his smirk widening as he pushed off the doorframe and took a slow, unhurried step toward me. "Interesting. Your face is red, your hands are shaking, and you’re scrubbing a clean plate like it owes you money. Whatever were you thinking about, Elena?"

"None of your business."

"Was it about me?"

"No."

"You’re a terrible liar, Bambina. You always have been." Another slow step. "You know, I remember this kitchen too. You were wearing that shirt of mine. You tasted like peaches. And you said the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, right here on this counter, with your legs wrapped around my waist. Do you remember what you said?"

"Make me," I whispered, glaring up at him with everything I had, my chest heaving, my hands gripping the edge of the marble behind me as my body traitorously hummed in response to his proximity.

He let out a low, dark laugh, his eyes dropping intentionally down to my mouth before rising back to lock with mine.

"Careful what you ask for, Princess. Because this time, I’m not letting you off this counter all night."

And in that moment, looking at the unstoppable force that was Jaxx Moretti, I knew I was in so much trouble... the kind I’d spent years running from, and the kind some reckless part of me had never stopped wanting to find again.