His large hand moves over my breast, squeezing then releasing and repeating the action over and over. Desire bursts through me, even hotter than before. I feel his teeth bite into the skin where my neck and shoulder meet. Not gentle. Yet, right now I don’t want gentle. I want whatever Jax gives me. I exhale at the desire and pain that runs through me, my entire body giving one slow, long convulsing movement.
“Oh…” I gasp as everything inside of me clenches tightly and evidence of my arousal runs from my center, wetting my thighs with sticky heat. If I could think, I might be embarrassed. But, I can’t think. Everything, every thought process, every touch, every breath is consumed by him. Jax. This man is owning me completely.
“I told you Bree, there were things I could give you until you’re out of school. Things that will give you pleasure—give us both pleasure,” he assures.
“I want it all,” I whimper. Feelings of anticipation, need, and disappointment collide.
“You’ll like what I give you,” he growls against my ear, spinning me around to face him. When I come face to face with the desire and need written all over him, I can do nothing but agree.
I’ll take anything he gives me, for however long he wants to give it to me.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jax
I’m barely hanging on to control. I feel like a fucking pervert for even thinking of what I want to do to her young, untried body. I don’t know what the fuck difference it makes that she is out of high school before I give her my dick, but somehow in my twisted mind it does. Who knows what the hell I’m doing. Maybe I’m hoping she’ll save herself from me before those weeks are up. Maybe I’m waiting for someone to find out and kill me—put me out of my misery. There’s only two things I’m sure of at this point. One is that having her and then being forced to give her up will kill me—which will definitely happen considering how young she is and who she is. The other thing is that regardless of it all, I will have her.
Her eyes look like liquid pools and the green is definitely brighter today, outshining the specks of brown and gold that mingle together. In all my years, I’ve enjoyed many women, but none have captured me the way that Bree has. And absolutely none have had eyes that even come close to how beautiful hers are.
This is all wrong. She deserves flowers, a soft bed, silk sheets, not a run-down rat trap with a worn out sofa and a bed that hasn’t been slept on in months. I tell myself it’s okay, because I’m not taking her virginity tonight, but I still feel like a fucking asshole. I pick her up and she instantly curves into my hold, her arms sliding against my neck, her breasts pressed against my chest. It might be fucked up, but holding her like this makes me feel like I’ve conquered the world.
When I get her to the bedroom, I’m torn between turning the light on, and leaving it mostly dark. There’s enough light filtering through the windows that I can see her. I don’t want her to be looking at how horrible the room is. I know she deserves better. I don’t want her backing out because she sees what she’s giving herself too. I need her tied to me before that happens. I want her completely mine, until her family and my brothers tear her away from me.
I slide her down my body, instantly missing the feel of her in my arms. I pull her away from me, just so I can get one more look. I can visibly see how a ragged breath shakes through her body.
“Jax?” she asks, but I don’t have time to answer. Instead, I unhook her bra and clumsily push it from her body. Sweet Jesus, I wasn’t expecting that. You think if you’ve seen a million tits, you’ve seen them all. But just like with Bree’s eyes, that’s no longer true. She’s special. Pale white globes with dusty rose nipples so tight it looks physically painful. I can’t resist brushing my thumb against it and watching as the point seems to strain toward me.
My eyes travel over her body, on the verge of breaking my own rule. I’m going to claim her eventually. Why wait? Then, my eyes stop at her underwear that is hiding that sweet little virgin pussy from me. Jesus. As if I needed another fucking reminder of just how young she is, suddenly, here it is.
Bree has on white cotton panties and over the front is a little daisy on it and the word Sunday written diagonally in frilly font and looped around the stem and leaves of the flower. She’s wearing fucking days-of-the-week panties.
She must notice where my attention is, because her hand comes down to try and shield herself from me. I roughly grab her hands, pulling them away.
“Never try to keep me away from what’s mine,” I bark, like a fucking animal, but that’s what she makes me feel. Like an animal and she’s my prey. I’ll fight and kill to keep her—even my own brothers.