the moment of truth?” Lydia’s brows shoot up her forehead, and she opens her mouth in a silent ‘O’ shape.
“As I’ll ever be,” I say, following her into the conference room.
It’s Thursday—two days since the trial day with the kids. Tina has been in and out of meetings here and back at King Publishing since, collating the feedback.
Today we find out whether we are on the right track or whether it’s literally back to the drawing board.
“You look nice today, Lyds,” I say as we find two seats at the table and sit down next to each other.
She smooths down her pink dress. “Thanks. The last time I wore pink, Tim said I reminded him of cherry blossoms in springtime.”
“Oh, Tim did, did he?” I smirk.
“Don’t get ideas. It’s just the best so far. If I’m going to have to listen to him, I’d rather be a blossoming tree than some sort of dessert,” Lydia says, as though it makes perfect sense to her. It likely does, though, the way her mind works.
“Are you glad to be back up in design now Ruth’s back?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Lydia shrugs. “Although, I think I prefer Tim’s constant babbling to Phil any day.”
“What’s he got you doing?” I ask, smiling at Frankie and two others as they enter the room and sit down.
“Filing in his office,” she groans. “I swear that man needs therapy for hoarding, the amount of shit he has in there. I’m just glad he’s been out in meetings the last couple of days, so I’ve had the space to myself.”
The mood in the room shifts, and everyone sits up straighter as Tina comes in, followed by Jaxon and Phil.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him since Tuesday. He looks just as good as always, immaculate deep grey suit, silver tie, flecks of grey in his hair, a flash of a smile as he takes a seat at the head of the table, and his gaze falls on me.
I clear my throat and look at Tina, concentrating on what she’s saying.
This would be so much easier if he weren’t so close—if he wasn’t looking at me.
I glance back at him. He is definitely watching me. And he’s doing that thing with his finger that makes him look intelligent and sexy, rubbing it back and forth across his lips.
I fidget in my seat, which attracts Lydia’s attention. She looks at me, then follows my gaze to Jaxon. His brows are knitted together in thought. When he sees both of us looking at him, he raises one in question before a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
Lydia nudges me with her leg under the table, but I ignore her and turn my focus on Tina.
“The feedback was really positive. You should all be very proud of what we’re achieving here.” There’s a collective sigh of relief around the table at her words. “There’s still a lot of work to do, but we’re on the right page, so to speak.” She laughs. “So, who’s up for a team drink after work tomorrow? On King Publishing, of course.”
There’s some cheering and clapping; everyone’s elated things are going well. Articulate is up there with the big boys now, proving it deserves its place.
“Meg,” Lydia whispers as she claps and small conversations break out around the room.
“Yes?”
“Tell me you’re going to fuck that man again. Please!”
“Lydia!” I hiss, glancing over to Jaxon, who’s leaning back in his chair, deep in conversation with Tina.
“Did you not see the way he was eye-fucking you just now? If he could have melted off your panties with his eyes and made the rest of us disappear, I swear he would have.”
I shake my head. “No. It’s just work. Besides, I’ve decided he’s too old for me.”
“What? I thought the silver fox thing did it for you?”
I look across at him; he’s smiling at Tina, the creases around his eyes deepen as he listens to her.
He’s beautiful.
“He’s not that silver,” I whisper. “Anyway, he’s got a grown-up son. We’re in different stages of life. I like the idea of having kids one day. And he’s done. He said so himself.”
“Ah,” Lydia nods, “now I know why you’ve been moping about this past couple of days.”
“I have not. I cross my arms over my chest.
“Have too. You’ve been all quiet.”
“I’ve been working, that’s all. I got more ideas from the kids on Tuesday, which I’ve been developing.”
“Mmm-hmmm, whatever.” Lydia stands now the meeting has ended.
“It’s true,” I huff, following her to the door.
We pass Jaxon and Tina on the way. Tina smiles and thanks us for our hard work while Jaxon nods at me with a smile.
Lydia’s right about one thing. His eyes could melt panties off; I swear mine are tempted to do that right now.
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into borrowing this.” I pull at the hemline of the figure-hugging, grey dress, which is threatening to ride up and expose my bum to everyone in the trendy London bar we are in.
“Relax,” Lydia pouts, “you look amazing! It suits you better than me. Keep it.” She leans over the bar in her hot pink dress and signals to the barman. “What are you having, Meg?”
“Oh, I don’t know, I’m kind of off alcohol at the moment. Ever since that bug.” My hand goes to my stomach.
“Come on! We’re celebrating. Just one?” Lydia gives me her best pleading eyes, and I giggle.
“Fine, just one,” I cave. “You’re a bad influence.”
“Thank you.” She winks.
I take the glass of champagne from her and eye the bubbles popping in the liquid.
“Really? After what you know about me and champagne?”
“You’ll thank me for it in the morning.” She laughs, clinking her glass against mine.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I murmur.
We make our way over to the other end of the bar, where the design team is congregating.
There are some unfamiliar faces too—people from King Publishing, who we haven’t met before.
Frankie sees us and calls out in greeting. He seems more than happy to make the introductions, and I smile and say hello to everyone, trying to remember their names. I don’t see Jaxon. Maybe he decided not to come. Instead of being relieved, my shoulders sag in disappointment. I was looking forward to seeing him outside of work. To see how he is when he’s away from the office. Whether he’s any different or just the same hot and cold, complicated man I’ve come to expect.
We stand and chat over the loud music. Tina arrives and gets an alcohol-fuelled cheer from the team. She’s a good sport and does a little twirl and curtesy as someone hands her a drink. There’s a fun, relaxed vibe to the evening. I think everyone is so relieved that the project seems to be going well that they’re more than ready to ease off the accelerator and let their hair down for a night.
Lydia leans close and makes a gagging noise in my ear. “Don’t look now. If Phil’s eyes get any further down Ruth’s cleavage, we’ll need a shovel to dig them out.”
“Ugh, too late, I looked.” I giggle as I take in the sight.
A moment later, Tim appears to chat to Ruth, sending a very red-faced and pissed-off-looking Phil back to the bar.
“Looks like your colour-loving knight in shining armour saved the day.” I turn to Lydia and give her a smirk.
She stands with one hand on her hip, her lips pouting as she looks at Tim.
He looks good tonight. He’s ditched the glasses and undone a couple of buttons on his shirt. I totally get the Clark Kent/Superman vibe Lydia was going on about now. He looks so different out of the office. As if sensing our eyes on him, Tim looks over and gives Lydia a small wave. His grin grows wider as his eyes drop to her dress.
“Go.” I nudge her. “You know you want to.”
“Now, who’s the bad influence?” She smirks at me, but instead of arguing, she heads over to join Tim and Ruth.
As much as I love seeing everyone enjoying themselves and knowing that we’ve earned it, I can’t shake the tiredness that’s creeping up on me. It’s been a long week.
There’s a door leading out onto a heated roof terrace, so I go out to get some air in the hope it’ll perk me up.
I head over to the outdoor railings and lean against them, looking out over the Thames. Whoever picked this bar for tonight’s get-together made a superb choice. Inside is modern and has a cool vibe, but out here on the roof garden—surrounded by fairy lights and tall, potted plants—is gorgeous.
I raise my glass to my lips and get a waft of champagne. I lower it back down with a frown.
“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”
I turn, unable to stop the smile forming on my face.
I would recognise his voice anywhere.
“It is. Did you choose this place?” I ask as Jaxon walks over and leans on the railings next to me.
He’s wearing grey suit trousers and a white shirt, but his tie is missing, and the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, showing his tanned skin.
“I can’t take credit for this.” He smiles. “Tina,” he adds.
“Ah.” I nod in understanding.
“Would you like another drink?” Jaxon looks at the untouched champagne in my hand. “I saw you wrinkle your nose up in that way you do when you don’t like something.”
“I don’t do that.”
“You’re doing it now.”
My fingers fly up to my nose, and I roll my eyes. “Fair point.”
He smiles at me, his eyes lingering on my face. His dark gaze sends tingles through my body and heat racing to between my legs.
“I’m just not feeling alcohol recently. It’s the same with coffee. I don’t know what’s got into me.” I shrug.
“There’s no need to explain. You’re talking to the tee-total life and soul of the party here.” He chuckles, raising a glass that looks like sparkling water and lemon.
“You don’t drink?”
He shakes his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles to himself and looks out at the river. “Not really. Maybe one now and again, at weddings, things like that.”
“I bet you’re a real lightweight when you do.” I giggle, imagining what a drunk Jaxon would look like. He’s so composed and in control. I can’t picture him any other way except maybe in the company of a table of six-year-olds. That’s a side to him I’ve never seen before. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love seeing that part of him. I bet he was a brilliant father when his son was younger, and now too.
He shakes his head with a sexy smile that makes my stomach flip. “I guess my inhibitions are lowered somewhat with alcohol. Would you agree… Megan?”
He turns to face me, and his eyes sparkle. I know he’s talking about that night. It’s clear as day on his face. I can practically see the memory of me naked, straddling his thick erection, reflected in his eyes.
I bite my lip, my cheeks burning. “So, how come you don’t drink then?” I ask, turning the conversation back to him, onto safer ground.
He looks down into his glass with a frown, and I regret asking. I should have let him continue his mental walk down memory-porn-lane.
He looked happier then.
He blows out a long breath. “My dad died when I was twelve. It wasn’t drink related, but I always told myself I would do all I could to keep myself healthy.”
He looks so defeated as he talks; my heart goes out to him. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard, losing him at that age.”
He raises his eyes to meet mine. “It was. We were close. My brother was only six, and it really knocked my mum. She struggled just to get out of bed some days. I swore to myself that if I ever had kids, I would never make them feel the loss of a parent. Not if I could help it. That’s why Penelope and I agreed to stay together until Christopher was twenty, even though we just thought of each other as friends by that point. We wanted him to have both parents around all the time, at least until he was an adult.”
“Christopher’s your son,” I say, more of a statement than a question, as I already suspected as much from my evening spent with Google. Though I will not admit that to Jaxon.
“Yes, he is. He’s twenty-six.” Jaxon’s whole face lights up.
“Are you two close?”
“We speak every day, so I like to think so. I hope he knows he can talk to me about anything.” Jaxon’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he chuckles to himself. “Maybe there’s some stuff a dad is better off not knowing, though.”
“I’m sure it’s no worse than things you’ve thought or done in the past.” I laugh as Jaxon opens his mouth to protest and then shuts it and nods with a smirk.
“Fair point, Megan,” he repeats my earlier words and runs a hand over the stubble on his jaw.
My eyes follow his fingers, and I clear my throat as the thought of reaching out and stroking his jawline becomes overwhelming.
A muscle in his jaw flexes as he continues, “I’ve never received a sex toy delivery at work, though… how was your date, by the way?”
I take my eyes off his fingers and snap them back up to his eyes. They’re glinting at me, but there’s a hard edge to them. It’s like he’s trying to sound casual but is teetering on the edge of something dark and dangerous if he decides he doesn’t like my answer.
“You think I would meet a man who sends a vibrator as an introductory pre-date gift?” I ask slowly.
He smiles at my response, and his jaw softens, but his eyes stay dark and intense on mine.
“The gift was from Lydia. For which I gave her an earful for sending it in the first place, let alone to the office.”
Jaxon’s shoulders relax as he lets out a breath. “So, the gift was from Lydia. But you still haven’t answered my question about how your date was,” he presses, his eyes still fixed on my face.
I gaze back at him, contemplating my answer.
What will happen if I keep up the pretence that I had a date this week? But then, why would I do that when I’m pretty sure it will piss him off?
Because he was a pig who didn’t call.
He’s been okay since then, apart from the chin grabbing and saying that night was a mistake.
Making me question my sanity over why I still want him when he’s telling me himself that it’s a bad idea.
But then, he’s also done some incredibly thoughtful things. Like the ginger ale, the flowers, the ginger tea. And there’s a softer side to him I felt that first night, that I saw at the trial day.
Plus, there’s this pull I have towards him that I just can’t shake off.
I look into his eyes. “I decided not to go.”
Okay, it’s a half-truth, but I don’t want him to know just how pathetic my evenings are. If it’s not Barre class, it’s Netflix and unicorn pyjamas.
“Why is that?”
I’m too busy studying the tiny flecks of copper around his irises to answer straight away. I’ve never noticed them before. Maybe it’s some kind of anger thing, like a tell. When he’s really pissed-off, they appear there, ready to burn his enemy or the object of his focus, which in this case, is me.
I shake my head. “It didn’t feel right. The date, I mean.”
His eyes drop to my lips as I talk.
I let out a sigh as I look up at the sky. It’s a full moon tonight. What is it Yolande said about full moons in class once? Oh yes, it’s a time when our energy and emotions are heightened. Apparently, the moon represents our inner world, our hidden dreams, and our desires. Maybe that’s why my lips keep moving, spilling out truths of their own accord as I gaze into the night sky.
“I think you know when you meet someone that you connect with. Your heart races, you tingle all over. You have a mix of both excitement and dread at the thought of seeing them.”
Jaxon nods, taking a step closer to me as he listens.
“I know those feelings, Megan.”
A breeze blows across the terrace and over my skin, but I’m not cold.
The sound of his voice has set a heat burning in my stomach.
“You do?” His gaze stays on my lips, and I lick them.
“I most certainly do,” he says, but it comes out as a growl.
Oh, God.
He takes the glass from my hand and places it down on a nearby ledge, next to his own, then he raises his hand and places two fingers underneath my chin.
I don’t stop him.
Even when he leans in and brushes his warm lips against mine, I just stand, dazed, my pulse throbbing between my legs and my breath caught in my throat.
I don’t do anything.
Until he says my name.
The sound of it rolling off his tongue, over his lips, breaks the dam, and I reach my hands up to either side of his face and pull him down against me.
My head knows it’s a bad idea.
The worst.
But right now, I care about nothing other than this moment.
And him.
His lips crash against mine, and I devour their taste, sliding my tongue into his mouth to find his. I kiss him like I’ve been waiting my entire life for him—like he’s the only person I ever want to kiss again. Judging by the hardness pressing against me through his clothes, I’m pretty sure he’s receiving the message loud and clear.
“Megan,” he breathes against my lips as our bodies press up against each other. “I’m no good for you,” he murmurs between kisses but makes no attempt to move away.
“Why do you keep saying that?” I whisper against his lips.
Can’t he feel the energy between us?
Maybe it’s just lust, desire, whatever, I don’t know.
But I know I’m not ready to let it go, not yet.
“It’s the truth. Being here with you, like this… I’m being selfish, Megan,” he says as his hand moves from my chin and drops to grasp my hip, pulling me closer to him.
“I may not know you well, Jaxon. But one thing you aren’t is selfish.” I look up at him from underneath my eyelashes and see in his eyes that he’s arguing with himself in his head. They’re dark and intense, searching mine as though I have the answer.
“Have you ever thought about that night we spent together?” he asks, his warm breath falling against my lips.
Yes.
“Maybe.” I bite my lip to hide my smile. “It’s so long ago, I think I’m forgetting.”
I could never forget.
He pulls me in closer, and his eyes screw shut as he murmurs to himself, “I’m going to hell.”
When he opens them again, his lids are hooded as he gazes at me.
“Do you need reminding, Megan?”
Fifteen minutes later, we crash through the front door of Jaxon’s apartment, our bodies a tangle of limbs and kissing mouths. He pushes me up against the wall inside as he kicks the door shut.
I don’t have time to look around as his lips find mine again, and he kisses the breath out of my body.
I can smell his aftershave, that same hint of cedar that’s rich and masculine.
Sexy as sin, just like him.
With each kiss of his lips and stroke of his fingers, it’s fusing into me, covering my skin.
The scent of him may wash off my skin, but it will never leave me completely; it’s burned in.
“I’ve thought about you every god-damn day, Megan,” he growls, dropping his lips to my neck and kissing from behind my ear, down to my collarbone.
My nipples harden as arousal floods my body, and I gasp, my breaths coming in brief moans. I must sound funny, but I can’t help it. It’s clear who’s in control of my body right now, and it’s not me.
“Jaxon,” I moan as he presses his warm lips against mine again, running his hands up and down the curves of my ass.
“You shouldn’t be here, Megan. I’m no good for you.” He grinds against me, and his erection pushes into my stomach.
“Stop saying that. You’re talking like you’re a murderer or something,” I pant. I pull back and look at his face. “You’re not, are you?”
He sees the glint in my eyes. “Does this dress count? Because I’m about ready to tear it off!” He drops his hands to the hem and slides it higher up my thighs, and his fingers stroke my skin. “God, I love touching you. I’d have to be a fucking saint to resist… to stop.”
“Then don’t.”
I reach to his shirt, pulling it out of his waistband and unbuttoning it, keeping my eyes on his face. His chest rises and falls with each breath as I push it down over his shoulders, and it falls to the floor. His naked chest is broad and strong, a small amount of short dark hair running over it. His stomach is hard, toned. He’s not a typical guy with a smooth chest and a load of male grooming products. He takes care of himself, sure.
But Jaxon King is all man.
Strong, virile, testosterone-filled, and half-naked in front of me.
His dark eyes are fixed on my lips like he’s about to devour me.
He takes my hand and raises it to his mouth, kissing the inside of my wrist as he pulls me along, leading me down a hallway. It’s dark. All I can make out are lots of doors as we pass, smooth wooden floors and high ceilings.
He brings us into what must be his bedroom. One entire wall is glass and the lights from the city below flicker. Jaxon presses a switch on the wall, and a light goes on in a walk-in closet, illuminating the main room in a warm glow.
“You can see half of London from up here.” I slip my fingers from his and walk over to the window to peer out.
The hairs on my neck prick up as warm breath touches my ear from behind. “Why would I want to see anything else when I have the most beautiful woman here with me?”
My heart hammers in my chest as the back of my dress is slowly undone, the sound of the zipper making me suck in a breath in anticipation.
Jaxon’s lips caress my shoulder as he slips the straps down, one by one. The grey fabric pools around my feet, and I’m left standing in just my heels, black lace bra, and thong. I hear him growl deep in his throat as his lips continue their exploration of my shoulder. That alone is enough to have my panties soaking with arousal, but he continues his assault on my senses, snaking his hands around the front of my body and cupping my breasts, rolling my nipples between his thumbs and fingers through the thin fabric.
“That feels good.” I lean my head back against him as the sensations sweep through my body. It vibrates in response to him, like every nerve ending is under his control, at his mercy.
“It looks good, too,” he whispers.
I look up, watching our reflection in the window as Jaxon unhooks my bra and removes it.
I lift my arms over my head and wrap them around his neck, behind me, which pushes my breasts forwards. He places his palms around them, kneading them as I moan and push myself back against his erection.
“Watch, Megan.”
His teeth graze my earlobe as his eyes fix onto my face in the reflection. He moves one hand down my body and slides it inside my panties.
“You feel incredible. I fucking love how wet you get for me. God… I can’t wait to taste you again, Princess.”
“Princess,” I murmur with a smile.
Jaxon’s chuckle vibrates through his lips onto my neck. My mouth goes slack as I surrender myself to him, grinding against his hand as it rubs slow circles over my swollen flesh.
God, it feels amazing.
I’m slick with arousal and past the point of no return. There is no way I’m leaving here now until I’ve had him inside me.
His voice, his smell, the feel of his fingers against my skin.
I want it.
Every bit.
I need him.
“Jaxon,” I whimper.
His eyes hold mine, and he sinks two fingers inside me. My legs go weak as he holds me around the waist with his free arm and fucks me slowly with his fingers. Each time he pulls out, he rubs my wetness across my throbbing clit until I’m panting and pleading with my eyes as he watches me in the glass.
“Stay right there.”
He removes his hand and takes each of my arms from around his neck, kissing my wrists as he places them down by my sides.
I stand, my body throbbing for him as he walks over to the bedside table and takes a condom out of a box in the drawer.
He’s back behind me within seconds, kissing my neck again and lifting my arms, placing my palms against the cold, hard glass of the window.
I look back at him over my shoulder as he unfastens his belt and pulls his remaining clothes off, dropping them to the floor. As he stands, he runs a hand up one of my legs from my ankle to my hip, curling his fingers around my hip bone and pressing a kiss to my shoulder. Goosebumps form on my skin under his touch; my nipples harden further to the point of being almost painful.
“I want you,” I tell him, taking one hand from the glass and reaching back, wrapping my fingers around his long, thick cock.
He drops his head back and closes his eyes.
“Megan,” he hisses.
I slide my hand up and down, spreading the wetness from the tip, enjoying the sight of him and the effect I’m having.
He’s like some dark, intense Sex God.
“I want you, Jaxon,” I repeat, turning my face to him over my shoulder.
He lifts one hand to my chin, holding it whilst he stares at my lips.
“I want to take my time with you, Megan.”
He frowns as he swipes his thumb over my bottom lip, spreading my own wetness there. I dart out my tongue, watching his eyes widen as I lick it off.
“Later. Right now, I need to feel you.”
His brow creases.
“Please,” I whimper.
I sound needy, but I don’t care. I am needy.
I need Jaxon.
And his cock.
Right. Now.
He keeps hold of my chin as he lifts his other hand, holding the condom packet to his lips. He grasps it between his teeth and tears the foil open. I swear the sight is better than someone opening a gift at Christmas. The anticipation of what’s coming has my body tingling in approval.
The wetness is all around the top of my thighs as Jaxon lets go of my chin. His eyes move from my lips to my eyes, and he watches me as I take my hand off his cock and he rolls the condom on.
I put my hand back on the glass and bend forwards.
“No,” Jaxon growls, “not like that.”
He grabs a low stool and places it by the window. Then he carefully slides my panties over my hips and down my legs, lifting each foot so he can remove them, along with my shoes.
“Put one foot up here, Princess.” He guides one of my legs, so my foot is resting on the fabric top of the stool. “I don’t want you bent over, Megan. I want to kiss you and feel your skin against mine.”
He turns my face to the side again so he can kiss my lips, and then he pushes up into me.
I gasp as he fills me, and I’m forced onto my toes, wrapping my arms back up around his neck for support. He helps hold me up, one arm wrapped around my hips, the other hand dropping from my chin to my breast and squeezing.
He’s watching us in the glass as he pumps into me, deliciously slow and deep.
“I can’t move like this. You’re too tall.” I giggle as I’m lifted off the floor by his thrusting.
He pulls out, spinning me around fast, and I fall against his chest. His hands go to my cheeks and stroke the sides of my face as he pulls me into a deep kiss.
“Hold on.”
He lifts me as though I weigh nothing, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he presses me against the wall.
“I want you.”
“You’ve got me, Princess. You’re like a fucking drug to me.” He stares into my eyes as he slides home in one deep thrust. “Jesus Christ!” he hisses, his eyes rolling back in his head.
I’m pinned.
Pinned between the hard wall and his rock-solid body as he thrusts into me, his eyes returning to hold my gaze.
My lips part as he slides one hand up around my throat and holds me in place as he drives deep.
“Fuck, Megan.”
His lips find mine, and our breath mixes as our bodies slam together.
I’m a body of quivering limbs, sparking with energy from his touch.
“More,” I whisper, running my hands up and into his hair. “Give me more.”
He pauses, searching my eyes with his, then he carries me to the bed, his mouth glued back over mine.
The soft cotton of the bedding is cool against my back as he lays me down, sliding his tongue between my lips.
My hands go to his face, and I run my fingertips along his jaw as he rests on his elbows and slides back inside me.
“God, Jaxon, your cock is perfect,” I pant, unable to kiss him anymore as the sheer pleasure of his body entering mine takes over, and my head falls back.
“That’s what every man wants to hear.” His eyes light up, and I look back at his face, stroking the laughter lines around his eyes with my fingertips as he chuckles.
He draws out and pushes back inside me.
“Do it faster,” I plead.
I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t listen. Push him onto his back and hope he lets me ride him hard?
I need him.
Every muscle in my body is aching for him. I’m wriggling around on the bed, arching towards him, desperate to get closer.
“Like this?” His chin lifts, and he watches me with a satisfied smile as he pulls back and sinks into me with more force, pushing the air from my lungs.
“Yes… like that…”
He smiles at me as his thrusts get faster, his pumps deeper.
I push my breasts up towards him, and he bends, sucking a nipple into his mouth as I moan in appreciation. It’s not just his cock that feels perfect right now; his mouth does too. I’ve never been one for having my nipples played with before, but the way Jaxon’s sucking them into his mouth, fluttering the tip of his tongue over them, has me moaning in ecstasy.
He lifts his head and rises to his hands. I gaze up at the sight of him over me. It’s the horniest thing I’ve ever seen, being looked down at by dark, glittering eyes, full of the promise of giving pleasure.
He raises a brow as if watching to see my reaction, and then he thrusts into me.
Hard.
“Yes!” I dig my nails into the flexed muscles of his ass and spread my legs as wide as I can so he can get deeper.
The last seven weeks seem like nothing as my body remembers him and draws him in. It’s like I’ve been craving him, and now I’m finally getting what I need. He watches me as I buck underneath him, meeting each thrust of his body with my hips. I’m panting, sweat beading on my brow.
The tingles start at my toes and then in my fingertips. My whole body is singing to his tune as I become a ball of sparks, ready to fly with just one final push.
“Jaxon,” I pant, my breath coming in short, quick bursts.
“Let it go, Megan. Come for me.” His voice sounds faraway like it’s underwater as my eyes roll back in my head and stars erupt across my vision.
The tightly wound coil inside my body that was holding the ball of sparks together explodes, and they fly out, forcing a gasp from my lips as wave after wave of pulsing, white heat floods my body, sending me into spasms around him.
“God, Princess, the sight of you coming, it’s going to make me… oh fuck,” Jaxon groans as the strength of his orgasm rips through the air.
I squeeze around him, drawing out his pleasure.
Every muscle in his beautiful face seems to tense as his body takes over, and he falls over the edge, buried deep inside me.
I’m waiting, ready to catch him. Ready to pull him closer to me and hold on tight.
As his thrusts slow, I hook my ankles behind his back and wrap my arms around his neck as a blissful calm settles over me.
He isn’t the only one affected by what his eyes have seen.
As I pull his body against mine, I can honestly say Jaxon King coming as he says my name is the rawest, most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
