He brings his mouth down to my breasts and sucks on my nipples, first one and then the other, sucking harder with each alternation.
Oh, fuck.
This is weird, gorgeously, wonderfully weird.
The pleasure hums around my nipples and then moves deeper to my belly, swirling around me, my nipples getting sore, and then—
“Fuck,” I gasp. “Oh my God. Please. Don’t. Stop.”
I don’t know how it happens – I didn’t even know this was possible – but suddenly the fireworks in my breasts are down in my core, too. The euphoria combines and Jett growls through the sucking as if to say, Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought.
I squeeze tighter onto his shoulders, gasping as each pulsation of ecstasy moves through me, as if in time with my heartbeat.
I shiver and writhe in his grip.
Jett sucks my nipples harder and then opens his mouth and bites softly down on my breast, moving his tongue in magic circles around my nipple.
“Oh—oh—oh,” I gasp, as the orgasm punches me with hands of lava again and again.
“I knew it,” Jett snarls once it’s passed, standing to his full height with me still cradled against his chest, making me feel impossibly small and delicate. “I just knew you were getting close to another orgasm. For a virgin, Juliana, you’re one sex-hungry girl, aren’t you?”
“Is that a bad thing?” I whisper.
“No,” he growls. “As long as you never – ever – under any fucking circumstances, behave that way with another man.”
Never?
“I don’t think I understand,” I whisper. “Do you want to be boyfriend and girlfriend?”
He chuckles grimly and lays me on the couch with surprising softness.
“Boyfriend and girlfriend?” he says, stroking a hand across my face, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, tickling. “That doesn’t do it justice, Juliana. But first, let me find you some clothes. You’re too damn distracting when you’re naked.”
Chapter Nine
Jett
The clothes are only a small improvement over her nakedness. She’s wearing one of my black T-shirts as a dress, so baggy it hangs right down to her thighs, and she’s also got some of my oversized boxers on as makeshift shorts.
She laughed when she emerged from the bedroom, Rebel in her arms, but there’s nothing funny about it to me.
In those baggy clothes – the fabric settling against her pert nipples like an outlining mist – it’s all too easy to imagine her naked still.
She sits on the couch, stroking Rebel in her lap. I sit in the armchair, my coffee clutched in my hand.
Her hot cocoa sends steam into the air from the coffee table.
“I can’t believe I can wear this as a dress,” she murmurs, as Rebel burrows herself into the fabric.
“Why?” I say, narrowing my eyes at her.
She tilts her head at me as if to say, You know why.
But I’ve got no idea what the hell she’s talking about. My main focus right now is quieting the beast inside of me so that I don’t maul her in front of her dog.
“So are we going to talk about this?” she asks.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I growl savagely, leaning forward to stare into her eyes.
Fear flickers across the verdant landscape of her irises, flashing, glinting, and I wonder if its fear of me or of the situation in general, or some other, unknown fear.
Surely she knows she doesn’t need to fear me.
Surely she knows I’d die and kill and everything in between before I let anything happen to her.
“It’s like this, Juliana,” I go on, keeping my voice firm.
Because then maybe I don’t have to confront how insane this is.
All my life, I’ve never taken much interest in women.
I’ve never felt it, anything.
I’ve drifted through life as a killer in the shadows, always focused on my work and nothing else, and now she’s waking me up in ways I couldn’t have comprehended before.
“The second I laid eyes on you, the second I caught you, I knew that you were destined to be my woman. You can put any fucking label on it you want. Girlfriend, partner. I don’t give a damn. All I know is that you belong to me now. Your ass, your tits, your cunt, your smile, your eyes, your sass, your charm, and your shyness and your bravery, all the little pieces that make you, you, they’re mine. I knew that the moment I saw you.”
She’s staring at me, frozen, her mouth hanging open as though she’s trying to figure out if I’m playing some kind of a trick on her.
She’s twenty-one and naïve and maybe she thinks I’d stoop to playing her like that.
She doesn’t yet understand the brutal things I’d do to anybody who tried to play her.
“This is what’s going to happen. When you’re ready to take my dick in that virgin cunt, I’m going to take you like you deserve to be taken. I’m going to take you, hard, as my personal slut. My personal slut. To every other man alive, you’re going to be nothing. You’re going to be chaste and well-behaved. But with me, you’ll do whatever I want you to.