Chapter 225 - 0225: Mummy Hasn’t Been Treating Him Right (r18+)

Chapter 225: Chapter 0225: Mummy Hasn’t Been Treating Him Right (r18+)

Elena’s Point Of View

The dream was so good, so perfect, that I never wanted to wake up.

I floated, weightless, wrapped in warmth and the kind of bliss that made my toes curl and my breath hitch. The air smelled like him... like sandalwood and sin, like the kind of danger that made my pulse race even in sleep. His hands roamed everywhere, his voice a low, rough murmur in my ear, his lips trailing fire down my neck, my collarbone, lower.

Lower.

I could feel him, feel the way his touch burned through me, the way his breath ghosted over my skin, hot and possessive. My body arched into his, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, begging for more. The dream felt so real, so vivid, that I could swear I felt the scrape of his stubble against my inner thighs, the way his tongue... oh God, his tongue, did things to me that made my hips jerk, my back bow off the bed, my breath come in sharp, desperate gasps.

Somewhere in the haze of sleep, I registered a flicker of unease, a nagging sense that something about this dream didn’t belong to me, but the pleasure drowned it out before I could grasp it.

*Yes. Right there. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare,* I thought, and then I saw his face.

Not his face. Not the one I expected.

My eyes flew open.

Jaxx.

What the fuck was he doing in my dreams?

My body locked up, my heart hammering against my ribs like it wanted to escape. The pleasure that had been building, coiling tight in my stomach, twisted into something else, something sharp, something wrong. My mind scrambled for footing, caught between the fading dream and a reality that refused to make sense.

But before I could even process it, before I could scream or shove him away or do anything, I felt it.

The wetness. The heat between my thighs.

My eyes snapped open.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, painting the room in gold, but that wasn’t what jolted me awake. It was the feeling... the slow, deliberate drag of a tongue, the way my body already trembled, the way my thighs were slick and shaking and, oh my God.

I gasped, my back arching off the bed as a moan tore from my throat, my palm slapping over my mouth to muffle the sound. My vision blurred for a second, pleasure crashing over me in waves so intense it bordered on painful. A distant part of my brain, the part still clinging to sleep, tried to make sense of it all and failed completely. Panic and pleasure tangled together, leaving me dizzy, unmoored, unsure which instinct to trust.

What the fuck was happening?

I forced my eyes open, my gaze snapping down, and there he was.

Jaxx.

Between my legs.

His dark head was buried there, his broad shoulders pinning my thighs apart, his hands gripping my hips like he owned me. Like he had every right to be there. Like this was normal.

Like this was his.

I tried to close my legs, tried to twist away, but his grip held firm, unyielding. He didn’t let me move. Didn’t let me breathe. My thoughts splintered into fragments... outrage, disbelief, and beneath it, something traitorous and warm that I refused to acknowledge.

"Jaxx!" His name came out as a broken cry, half protest, half plea, because fuck, it felt too good, too wrong, too everything.

He lifted his face just enough to meet my eyes, his lips glistening, his smirk so fucking innocent it should’ve been illegal.

"Good morning, princess," he murmured, his voice rough, dark, dripping with amusement. "Had a nice dream?"

I stared at him, my chest heaving, my mind racing in a dozen directions at once... fury, confusion, and beneath it all, a traitorous thread of want I refused to name. "A... a nice dream?!" My voice came out a screech, raw and unhinged. "Are you really serious?!"

His grin widened, slow and wicked, like he knew exactly what he was doing to me. Like he loved it.

"Of course you did," he purred, his thumb brushing over my clit in a slow, maddening circle. "I could tell."

I swallowed hard, my nails digging into the sheets, searching for something, anything, to anchor me. "I dreamt of smacking you clean across the face, you bastard."

He chuckled, low and dark, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure straight through me. "Liar."

His tongue flicked out again, just a teasing stroke, and my hips jerked helplessly, a whimper spilling from my lips.

"You were moaning my name," he growled, his breath hot against my skin. "Begging for it."

"I was not!"

"You were," he interrupted, his voice a dark, velvety promise. "And I always give my princess what she wants."

Before I could argue, before I could think, his mouth found me again.

And God, he ate me like a starving man.

There was nothing polite about it, nothing careful. His tongue swiped through my folds with slow, deliberate, obscene strokes, wide and flat, like he was gathering every drop of me, and then he groaned, actually groaned, deep and filthy, like I was the best thing that had ever been in his mouth.

He sealed his lips around my clit and sucked, hard, his head shaking side to side, and my hips practically launched off the bed before his forearm slammed across my hips and pinned me back down.

"Jaxx, fuck!" My fingers tangled in his hair, my body betraying me, my hips rocking into his face despite every instinct screaming at me to stop. Some small, rational corner of my mind kept insisting this was wrong, that I should be furious, that I should shove him away and demand an explanation. That part of me lost, utterly and completely, to the one that only wanted more.

He groaned against me again, louder this time, and the vibration traveled straight through my spine. "God, you taste so fucking good," he muttered, his voice muffled against my flesh, his mouth already moving again. "Like sin and sugar. Like mine."

I should’ve pushed him away. Should’ve screamed. Should’ve done something.

But I didn’t.

Because fuck, it felt too good.

His tongue worked relentlessly, licking, sucking, teasing, like he was determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from my body. He fucked his tongue into me in slow, curling strokes, his nose grinding against my clit with every push, and the sounds... the wet, sloppy, shameless sounds of him devouring me, filled the whole room, slick and smacking and hungry. His fingers dug into my thighs, holding me open, keeping me his.

He ate like this was his last meal and he intended to be buried in it, his whole face working, his stubble scraping my inner thighs raw, his groans and growls humming through my core like a second heartbeat.

"You’re dripping, Elena," he growled, pulling back just enough to speak, his chin wet, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. "So fucking wet for me. Did you dream about this? About me between your legs, eating this pretty little cunt like it’s my last meal?"

"No!" The word came out as a breathless whine, my body arching into his touch, betraying the lie even as I spoke it.

"Liar," he repeated, his tongue swirling around my clit before he sucked it between his lips, hard.

My back bowed off the bed, a broken cry tearing from my throat. "Oh my God!"

He chuckled, the sound dark and satisfied. "That’s it, princess. Let me hear you."

His fingers joined his mouth, sliding inside me with a slow, deliberate thrust that had me seeing stars, two thick fingers pumping in rhythm with his mouth, curling up against that spot while his tongue flicked my clit in quick, merciless strokes. "You’re so tight," he groaned. "So fucking perfect. Made for me."

I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. All I could do was feel: the way his tongue worked me, the way his fingers curled inside me, hitting that spot that made my vision white out.

"Jaxx, please!" I didn’t even know what I was begging for. For him to stop. For him to never stop. The two desires tangled together until I couldn’t tell them apart anymore.

He growled against me, the sound sending another wave of pleasure crashing over me. "Fuck, I love how responsive you are. How needy." His free hand slid up my body, gripping my breast, pinching my nipple just hard enough to make me gasp. "You were made for this. For me."

I was going to combust. My body felt like it was on fire, my skin too tight, my breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps.

"Come for me, Elena," he commanded, his voice a dark, possessive growl. "Come on my tongue like a good girl."

And just like that, I shattered.

My orgasm hit me like a freight train, my body locking up, my back arching as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. I cried out, my fingers clutching at his hair, my thighs trembling around his head, my pussy pulsing against his mouth, gushing, and he moaned through it like I’d given him a gift, drinking me down, his tongue still working, slow and filthy now, gathering every last pulse of it.

He didn’t stop.

He kept licking, kept sucking, drawing out every last tremor, every last whimper, until I lay boneless and breathless and his.

Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening, his eyes dark with satisfaction, his chin a wet disgrace, and he looked proud of it, like a man who’d just won something.

I lay there, panting, my body still humming, my mind a fog of pleasure and disbelief. A strange, unwelcome tenderness crept through the haze, and I hated how badly I wanted to chase it rather than push it away.

I know he’s crazy, I thought, staring at the ceiling, my heart still slamming against my ribs. But not this crazy. Who does this while a person is sleeping? What have I gotten myself into?

Jaxx crawled up my body, his weight settling over me, his cock hard and thick against my thigh. He braced himself on his elbows, his face inches from mine, his smirk pure, unrepentant sin.

"Good morning, princess," he murmured, pressing a slow, filthy kiss to my lips, letting me taste myself on him.

I was still too dazed to do anything but stare at him, my heart pounding, my body still trembling, a thousand questions and not one coherent word available to me.

He grinned, slow and wicked, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. "I was only giving you a proper good morning kiss."

I should have known.

I should have known that waking up to Jaxx between my legs, his mouth doing things that made my toes curl and my brain short-circuit, was only the beginning.

But nothing could have prepared me for the way he looked at me right now.

His face hovered inches from mine, that stupid, infuriatingly perfect smirk tugging at his lips, his dark eyes glinting with something between amusement and pure, unadulterated sin. His hair was tousled from my fingers, his stubble rough against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, his lips, those lips, still glistening from what he’d just done to me.

And he had the nerve to look at me like I was the one being unreasonable.

I gasped, my chest heaving, my body still humming from the orgasm he’d just wrung out of me. My gaze locked onto his face, the one that was somehow both rough and handsome, all sharp angles and dark promises, the kind of face that made my stomach flip and my pulse race even when I wanted to strangle him.

"A... a morning kiss?!" My voice came out breathless, disbelieving. "What the hell happened to my lips, you jerk?!"

He chuckled, low and dark, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. His fingers trailed down my body, slow, deliberate, like he owned every inch of me. And when they reached their destination, right between my legs, I jerked, a gasp tearing from my throat as he pressed just enough to make me arch into his touch.

"Don’t be greedy, Bambina," he murmured, his voice rough, teasing. "Why can’t you share with my little princess down here?" His fingers circled my clit, just a light, maddening touch, and I whimpered, my nails digging into his shoulders.

Little princess?

Down there?

My face burned. "You... you can’t just...!"

"Can’t just what?" He raised an eyebrow, his thumb pressing a little harder, making my hips buck involuntarily. "Give all of you the attention you deserve?" His other hand joined the first, his fingers spreading me open just enough to tease, to torment. "You think only these lips deserve my kisses?" His thumb brushed over my bottom lip before dragging down, over my chin, my throat, lower, until his hand returned between my thighs, his fingers slick with me.

I swallowed hard, my breath hitching. "That’s... that’s not...!"

"Not what?" His voice dropped, darker, filthier. "Not fair?" His fingers slid through my folds, slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the way my body reacted to him. "Baby, fair is the last thing I want to be with you."

I whimpered, my body betraying me, my hips lifting into his touch. He groaned, his eyes darkening as he watched me, as he felt me.

"Here, we share," he growled, his voice a rough purr. "And my little princess..." His fingers pressed deeper, two of them sliding inside me just enough to make me gasp, my back arching off the bed. " ...gets fair treatment." His thumb found my clit again, rubbing slow, torturous circles. "Don’t want her complaining that Daddy isn’t treating her right."

Daddy.

The word hit me like a punch to the gut. My breath stuttered. "D-Daddy?!"

He nodded, like he’d just announced the weather. Like this was normal. Like he wasn’t currently finger-fucking me while calling himself Daddy with that smirk still fixed firmly in place.

This man.

This insane, infuriating, maddening man.

I opened my mouth to argue, to scream, but then he pouted.

Actual. Pouted.

Like a child.

His lower lip jutted out, his brows furrowing just slightly, his hand stilling between my legs. "But my little guy..." He shifted his hips, and oh God, I could feel him, hard, thick, pressing against my thigh. "...is also complaining." His voice turned into a whine, exaggerated, mocking, but his eyes, those eyes, burned dark with need. "Mummy hasn’t been treating him right."