Page 28 of Puck Tease
He sped up, his thrusts becoming a frantic blur. The water pounded around us, a deafening roar that swallowed the wet, slapping sounds of our bodies colliding. Steam filled my lungs, making it hard to breathe, each inhale a desperate struggle. I felt lightheaded, dizzy with the oppressive heat and the overwhelming sensation.
Jax was relentless, a force of nature. He fucked me with a desperate, angry energy, his hips grinding, rubbing his pubic bone against my ass, stimulating us both to a fever pitch.
"Look at you," he snarled, his voice thick with raw possessiveness. "Taking it in the showers like a varsity slut. Is this what you dreamed about?"
"Yes," I sobbed, the word tearing from my throat. "Yes, Jax."
"Say it louder."
"Yes, Captain!"
He pulled back, almost dropping me, then slammed back in with a force that rattled my teeth.
"Who owns this locker room?" he demanded, his voice a guttural roar.
"You do."
"Who owns you?"
"You do!"
He leaned back, his eyes fixed on my face. He looked at my lips, parted and panting, slick with steam and my own saliva.He looked at my eyes, blown wide with lust and a terrifying vulnerability.
His gaze dropped to my neck.
"Too clean," he muttered, a dark glint in his eyes.
He leaned in, his breath hot and ragged against my skin. He opened his mouth.
He bit me.
It wasn't a love bite, no gentle hickey. He sank his teeth into the sensitive muscle where my neck met my shoulder, a sharp, sudden agony. He bit down hard, a sickening pressure.
"Jax!" I screamed, the sound tearing out of my throat, raw and desperate.
The pain was sharp, agonizing, a white-hot spear. I felt the skin break, a tearing sensation. I felt his teeth grinding against the muscle beneath, a sickening intimacy.
He didn't let go. He clamped down, shaking his head slightly like a dog with a bone, worrying the flesh. He thrust harder into me while he marked me, blending the pain and the pleasure into a blinding, white-hot spike of sensation that consumed my entire being.
He held the bite for ten seconds, a lifetime. When he finally pulled back, I felt a trickle of something warm running down my shoulder that wasn't water, but thick and viscous.
Blood.
"There," he panted, admiring his work, his eyes glazed with a savage satisfaction. "Now everyone knows."
"You... you broke the skin," I whispered, my fingers tentatively touching the wound. It stung, a searing pain in the hot water.
"Good. It'll scar."
He grabbed my face with both hands, squishing my cheeks, forcing my eyes to meet his.
"I want people to see it," he said, his eyes wild, utterly unhinged. "I want them to look at you in the locker room tomorrow. I want them to see that mark and know that I put it there. I want them to know you're damaged goods."
A tremor shot down my spine. My lungs constricted, and the air soured in my throat. My knees trembled, threatening to buckle, a sudden, desperate urge to flee battling with an even stronger, sickening pull to stay. This wasn't the cold blackmail of the first night. This was something else, something deeper, darker. This was obsession, raw and untamed.
And god help me, my dick throbbed harder, a furious beat against his stomach.
"Fuck me," I begged, the words escaping in a ragged moan. "Jax, please, finish it."
