Chapter 284 - 0284: I Want Your Mouth On Me (r18+)

Chapter 284: Chapter 0284: I Want Your Mouth On Me (r18+)

Elena’s Point Of View

My mouth hung open in a silent, jagged gasp. I lay sprawled across the mahogany table like a sacrifice, the wood cool against my feverish skin while Jaxx knelt between my legs with a focus that was terrifyingly absolute. My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out every rational thought I tried to summon.

He didn’t look like a man joking around. He looked like a predator who had finally reached the climax of a very long, very patient hunt. The intensity radiating from him made the air feel thick, charged with something primal and inescapable, as though the room itself had narrowed down to just the two of us and nothing else existed beyond this table, this moment.

The shock of his words... the "wife you up" part, the "binded to me" part, still rattled around my skull, making me wonder if he’d lost his mind or if I’d lost mine for staying. Those weren’t casual promises whispered in the heat of passion. They sounded like vows, like declarations carved in stone, permanent in a way that should have sent me running.

My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a question I couldn’t answer, each breath a small negotiation with the fear and desire warring inside me.

But then he reached out, his hands large and warm, and gripped my ankles with surprising gentleness. The contrast between his predatory stare and this tender touch sent confusion spiraling through me. How could someone look so dangerous and touch so carefully? The dissonance unsettled me more than any rough handling could have.

"Jaxx," I breathed, my voice barely a whisper, a fragile thread in the charged silence.

He didn’t answer. He just leaned in and slowly, with an agonizingly sensual deliberation, unclasped my heels. He removed them one after the other, placing them on the floor as if they were made of glass. The sheer intimacy of the gesture made my breath hitch. Something about this careful attention... so at odds with the raw hunger I’d seen in his eyes moments before, undid me completely. I felt, absurdly, like crying, though I couldn’t have explained why even to myself.

It felt like worship, like he was unwrapping something precious, something he intended to keep. I had to bite my lower lip hard, my teeth sinking into the soft flesh just to keep an embarrassing, needy sound from escaping.

The metallic taste of blood bloomed faintly on my tongue, grounding me even as everything else spun out of control. I clung to that small, sharp sensation like a lifeline, the only thing tethering me to myself.

Then he started to move. He didn’t go for the prize. He started at my toes.

"Jaxx, stop," I managed to stammer, my face flaming with mortification. "They’re... they’re dirty. I’ve been walking around all day."

The embarrassment crashed over me in waves. This wasn’t how these moments were supposed to go. There were supposed to be boundaries, lines of propriety even in passion. But Jaxx had never been one for following the expected script, and some traitorous part of me was grateful for it even as I protested.

He looked up at me, a wicked, dark smirk playing on those lips I’d just been tasting. The look in his eyes made my stomach flip... part amusement, part challenge, all possession, as though my objection were simply another obstacle he intended to dismantle with the same patient thoroughness he applied to everything else.

"Shuush, princess," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my bones, "I don’t care about that. I only care about every single inch of you."

And then he proved it. He took my big toe into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it, and I let out a choked sound I didn’t recognize. The sensation was so unexpected, so intimate, that my mind went blank. A flush of heat spread from my chest up to my hairline, and I wondered dimly how something so small could unravel me so thoroughly.

He began to kiss his way up my foot, his mouth warm and wet, nibbling at the arch, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of my ankle. Each movement felt deliberate, unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world and intended to use every second of it.

Every touch felt like a brand, marking me as his in ways that went beyond the physical. He moved to my calf, his tongue trailing long, slow lines of fire upward, pausing occasionally to press open-mouthed kisses against my skin. I found myself holding my breath between each one, waiting, aching for the next.

The contrast between the cool air and his hot mouth made me shiver. He bit... just a tiny, sharp nip, at the back of my knee, and my leg jerked instinctively, a small rebellion my body staged without consulting me.

"Jaxx, please," I whimpered, my fingers tightening on the edge of the table until my knuckles turned white.

The wood bit into my palms, the only solid thing in a world that had turned liquid and unstable. I didn’t even know what I was begging for anymore... for him to stop, to continue, to put me out of this exquisite misery. The not-knowing terrified me almost as much as the wanting did.

He ignored me, his focus entirely on the map of my skin. I could feel him learning me, memorizing every curve and hollow, cataloging what made me gasp and what made me moan, as though my body were a language he was determined to master completely.

His hands followed the path of his mouth, stroking and kneading, claiming territory with every caress. He reached my mid-thigh, his hands sliding underneath me to pull me closer to the edge of the wood.

The scrape of my skin against the polished surface sent another shiver through me. He was nibbling, sucking, and biting his way up my inner thigh, the skin there so sensitive it felt like he was touching raw nerves. I bit down harder on my lip, tasting blood again, needing the pain to balance the overwhelming pleasure threatening to swallow me whole.

Each sensation built on the last, layering pleasure upon pleasure until I couldn’t distinguish one touch from another. By now, my breathing came fast and harsh, a jagged rhythm that filled the quiet room, punctuated by small, helpless sounds I no longer had the strength to suppress.

I was melting, my body turning into something liquid and desperate under his relentless attention. The woman who had walked into this room... controlled, professional, guarded, had completely dissolved, replaced by someone I barely recognized, someone ruled entirely by sensation.

Then he reached the heat.

I gasped, my head falling back against the table as he licked right through the thin lace of my panties. The dampness of his tongue combined with the friction of the fabric sent a jolt of pure, white-hot electricity straight to my brain. Stars burst behind my closed eyelids, constellations of pleasure mapping themselves across my vision, and for a moment I forgot how to breathe entirely.

He did it again, adding more pressure, his tongue swirling directly against my clit through the lace. The barrier of fabric somehow made it more intense, the indirect stimulation driving me to the edge of madness, leaving me suspended in an agony of almost-enough.

"Hmmm..." The moan escaped before I could stop it, long and broken, revealing just how completely he’d dismantled my defenses. I didn’t even recognize my own voice anymore.

He kept at it, a rhythmic, relentless assault until the lace was soaked, clinging to me like a second skin. I was a mess, my hips lifting off the table in a silent plea for more, my body moving of its own accord, seeking friction, seeking release, seeking him. The rational part of my brain had completely shut down, leaving only sensation and need, and some distant part of me marveled at how easily he’d stripped away every ounce of control I thought I had.

Then, with an aching ease that made me want to scream, he pulled back. He slid the panties down my legs and tossed them toward the couch, not even looking to see where they landed. The casual dismissal of that final barrier should have embarrassed me, but I was beyond shame now, beyond anything but the desperate ache he’d carved into every inch of me.

I didn’t care either. I couldn’t care about anything except the fact that he was back, his mouth hovering just inches away from me. I could feel the warm, humid breath from his mouth hitting my sensitive skin, making me twitch and shiver with anticipation, my entire body straining toward him like a plant toward sunlight.

But he wasn’t doing anything. He was just... staring. Drinking me in with those dark eyes that seemed to see straight through to my soul, as though he were savoring this moment of suspended want as much as anything that might follow it.

The pause stretched out, unbearable in its intensity. My entire body thrummed with unfulfilled desire, every nerve ending screaming for his touch. The vulnerability of being completely exposed while he remained fully clothed should have terrified me, should have sent shame flooding through me.

Instead, it only heightened the aching need coiling tighter and tighter in my core. I could feel myself trembling, suspended in this moment between what had been and what was about to be, knowing that whatever happened next would change everything between us forever. There would be no pretending, after this, that I didn’t belong to him in some fundamental way.

I opened my eyes, vision swimming through tears of frustration. He was looking at me... truly looking at me, with a gaze so intense it felt like he was memorizing every curve, every contour of my body, committing me to memory as though he feared I might vanish.

"Jaxx," I called out, my voice breaking into a pained rasp.

"Hmmm, baby?" The words rumbled from deep in his chest, lazy and deliberate. "What is it? Do you need anything?"

My eyes widened as I gasped for air. Is he insane? Is he actually, clinically insane?

After everything he’d just done, after building this unbearable tension inside me, he had the audacity to ask me that, as though he hadn’t just reduced me to a trembling, begging mess.

Annoyance flashed through me... a spark of my former self trying to claw its way back to the surface. Part of me wanted to close my legs just to spite him, to end this exquisite torture, but his grip on my thighs remained unyielding. He held me open, exposed and aching, while he simply watched with that infuriating patience, as though my frustration only fed his satisfaction.

I reached out, fingers tangling in his damp hair, tugging with desperate strength. "Jaxx..."

He hummed again, and then I felt his finger. He had abandoned his mouth entirely. Now he traced slow, agonizing circles around my clit, barely making contact but applying just enough pressure to make me jerk against him. The sensation was maddening... too much and not enough all at once, a cruelty disguised as tenderness.

"You stupid... insane... Jaxx," I gasped, the words tumbling out in a breathless rush, equal parts accusation and plea.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against my inner thighs and sending fresh waves of sensation through my body. His finger accelerated, establishing a rhythmic, maddening tempo that had me arching my back, heels digging into his shoulders as I sought purchase, sought relief, sought anything that might ease the unbearable pressure building inside me.

"Please, Jaxx." The plea escaped my lips, all my pride stripped away, replaced by a hunger that terrified me with its intensity. I barely recognized this desperate creature I’d become, this woman willing to beg for what she needed without a trace of shame.

"What do you want me to do, angel?" he whispered, his eyes locking onto mine, dark and filled with silent, heavy obsession. The weight of his gaze pinned me as effectively as his hands, holding me captive in a way no physical restraint ever could.

"I can’t do this without you leading me, princess. Tell me." His voice dropped lower, more intimate. "What do you want this stupid... insane man to do for you?"

I swallowed hard, my throat parched, my entire body trembling with the need for him to finish what he’d started. The words hovered on my tongue, shameless and raw. I couldn’t hold them back anymore. I needed the fire, needed the release only he could give me, and some fierce, newly awakened part of me refused to feel ashamed of that need any longer.

"I want your mouth on me," I said, the words breaking as they left my lips, vulnerable and exposed. "I... I... want... you to suck it."