Shafted(Devil's Blaze MC 4)(42)

The way he talks only adds fuel to a fire that’s already burning out of control inside of me. I’m so wet and every wicked thought and vision he puts in my mind, just makes me wetter.

“What if I say no?”

“You might say no, but your body says yes. It always tells Daddy yes, doesn’t it?” He groans, taking my mouth again.

There goes that word. Daddy. Sensations fire through me, that have nothing to do with the kiss and everything to do with that word. Why does he use it? Why, when he uses it, does this knot curl in my stomach and heat flush my body. I shouldn’t like it…should I? But…God…I do. It feels dark, forbidden, and hot. It feels like he wants things from me I never envisioned giving another man.

I watch helplessly as his free hand goes to the shirt I’m wearing. His warm, abrasive hand rests under it, lying flat on my stomach. My skin instantly heats, a ripple of awareness or need trembles through me. I know he felt it by the way those full lips of his curl into a smile. I wish I could wipe the look of victory off his face, but that would be stupid, because I want him to win.

“Want something, baby?” he asks. I rub my lips together to moisten them. His thumb comes up and brushes along the corner, finding the faint trace of blood I know must be there. “This won’t do. I can’t have you hurting yourself,” he whispers. “Tell me the words, Bree. Tell Daddy what you want,” he urges me. His eyes, the expression on his face, and the way he’s caressing my lips, are all drugging me.

“I want your cock,” I tell him—giving him what I know he wants. In response, he surprises me by stepping back. I know the confusion is written all over my face, it has to be. At least it is until he pulls his club cut off followed by his shirt. I’m frozen watching him.

Jax’s body is a work of art. It’s chiseled and lean with a rock hard six pack that would make the models on any of those romance book covers beg for mercy. But, he’s not like them. He’s not a model. He’s not a pretty-boy. He’s all man. I’ve admired it before, but again I’m drawn to the covering of hair on his body. Thicker on his chest, thinning somewhat as it goes down his stomach, and disappearing under the waist of his jeans. It’s got touches of gray peppered through it and somehow, that makes him appear even sexier. Everything about him, calls to everything in me.

“Take your clothes off Bree,” he demands.

I think about arguing, but I don’t want him to change his mind. I’ve wanted to belong to this man since the first time we met. No. Since the first time I spotted him across the room. My hands are shaky as I undress. My shirt goes first. Cool air hits my body, but I’m way too heated, and the result is a delicious chill running along my upper body. I can feel my nipples harden—almost painfully, through my bra. I leave my bra on, I’m not that brave, just yet. Instead, I concentrate on kicking off my shoes and pulling my socks off.

My eyes are glued to Jax who has already undressed, except for his jeans and the zipper on those has been undone. The hair that I was admiring on his chest is visible somewhat through the zipper of his jeans, and I lick my lips in anticipation remembering what he’s hiding. We don’t talk, the only sounds are our mingled breaths echoing in the room. The slightly erratic sound of his, that tells me he’s as excited as I am, is the sole reason why I’m able to push my fear aside and undo my jeans. I’m standing in front of him wearing nothing save my bra and panties. They’re not made to seduce—though slightly better than the first ones he’s seen me in. They’re cotton, a red and green plaid trimmed in black. I really need to go shopping. But, when I hear Jax’s sharp intake of breath, my eyes jerk up to his, and what I see there steals my breath. Desire. Hot. Rabid…molten…and it’s all for me.

“I ever tell you about this fantasy I have Bree?” he asks.

“N…no.”

“You just get out of class. You’re wearing knee high socks and the shortest fucking skirt I’ve seen in my lifetime,” he tells me, as if he’s describing the weather, except his voice has dropped into that deep timbre he uses when he’s horny. He begins pushing his pants down, his cock literally bouncing as it springs free of his clothing. “The skirt is the same material as that bra you’re wearing. You’re walking in front of me and the cheeks of your ass can be seen with every step you take, and you were a bad girl that day, because you didn’t bother to wear anything under that skirt.”

“What do you do?” I ask him, no longer looking at his face. No. My eyes are glued to his hand which is moving slowly on the shaft of his cock. I’ve been curious. I’ve wanted to know how Jax got the club name Shaft. He hasn’t told me but it should be because he has the most beautiful cock ever made. I haven’t seen many. But surely, there can’t be a better one than his. It’s thick and long, and should scare me to death, but it doesn’t. He’s got these large veins that press out that look so hard, I wonder if it’s painful. The head shines a darker hue, and as he strokes I can literally see the pre-cum bubble from the small crease. My tongue snakes out against my lips, wishing I could taste it too.