Page 110 of Ballistic

The mounting pressure, the need to be tangled in the sheets with him, pulled at my core. “Dax! Please!”

A sharp sting radiated into my breasts as he twisted my nipples. “And then what?”

“You’re gonna fuck me slow. And long. However long you want.”

“However long I want.” The amusement in his voice carried a wicked clip, and the sound of his chuckle rippled down my spine. “Baby, I’m going to fuck you all night. Every room is going to smell like sex, and every surface will have your ass propped against it at some point. You’re gonna be weak and exhausted by the time I’m done with you, Eden.” His mouth latched onto my breast, the delicious tug of his suckling like a string to my core, sending my hips upward. “But I’m going to keep fucking you because I’m a selfish, gluttonous prick who won’t stop until I’ve had every last drop.” He parted the same attention to the other breast, eyes on me, flicking his tongue over the hardened peaks.

“Then, we … shouldn’t waste time … getting on that.” With his cock still teasing in and out of me, I spoke through choppy breaths, gripping tighter to the chair, dizzy with want.

I only caught a flash of his shameless grin, before he drove his hips up into me, damned near bucking me off the chair, if not for my tight grasp on the arms of it.

Hands wrapped around my shoulders, he held me steady as he hammered his hips beneath me, his eyes rapt on mine all the while.

I watched him, too. The moments when his cockiness slipped and his brows came together in pleading, before dipping to something stern and determined. Something I wanted to bottle and drink in the moments I felt cold and scared and lost.

As the visuals pulled at my mind—of Tesarik, Jasper, Kenny, and every other man who’d used and abused me, even Dmitry—Dax’s eyes lured me back to the present. Back to safety.

I let him draw me into him, until the two of us crashed together, clawing, scratching, biting, our bodies slick with the sweat of our battle.

He fucked me in every sense, shattering the ice with each drive of his hips. Destroying everything I’d come to believe about men and their cruel nature. Like a warrior, he traversed the barren plains of my heart and slammed his sword into its surface. Claiming me for himself.

Hands smoothing down my body, he dug his fingers into my ass, bobbing me against his cock, sending that silver ball of metal pounding against my most sensitive spot. My body seized as he hit it, over and over and over in a punishing cadence, until my muscles had become so taut, I could scarcely breathe. Arms and legs quivering with tension, I fought to hold on, stretched over his thighs, gripping and sliding along the edge as he brought me closer and closer to climax. Snarled curses vibrated across my skin, while his teeth lodged into my throat, holding me as captive as prey.

A thrill rippled through me like flames melting my insides into liquid rapture, intoxicating me until my grip faltered and I couldn’t hold on anymore.

With the final thrust of his hips, I surrendered to the jolts of ecstasy that spiraled up my back and exploded in a wash of tingles. I cried out as his cock swelled and stretched, then finally ruptured with his own release.

He cursed and bruised my flesh, his fingers waxing over my slick skin, as he banged out the final jets, pulsing inside of me.

I slowed my gyrations.

His grip slackened.

Swallowing past the dryness in my throat, I fought to catch my breath and sagged against him. For a moment, we sat breathing, and with my ear to his chest, I listened to the wild pounding of his heart. The music of his body that played on as an encore to his finale.

Once my body finally calmed, I pushed up to feel him wrap his arms around me and draw me in as if to kiss me. He didn’t though. In the pause, we stared at each other, his cock still deep inside of me. As connected as we could possibly be.

I could feel something foreign blossom within me. A warmth I’d longed for all my life, but failed to understand. The craving I’d searched to quell with every pink pill I’d swallowed. As I stared back into his eyes, brimming with so much more than lust and desire, I knew exactly what it was that tugged inside my chest.

“I love you, Eden,” he whispered, squeezing the back of my neck. “I love you so fucking much.”

I’d always thought of those words as superficial and meaningless until right then. There was no doubt. No question in my mind, at all. I loved him. Irrevocably and recklessly.

Those words threaded beneath my skin, wrapping around my heart like strings that fastened me to him. Through tears, I smiled and bent forward to kiss him. “I love you, Dax,” I said without hesitation.

A new expression flickered across his face. One I hadn’t seen before, that softened his brows and lifted the corner of his lips as he tilted his head back. Contentment. For the first time, he seemed relaxed.

I traced my fingers over the smooth skin where lines once marked his frown.

I was crazy in love with him.

Dax lifted me off the chair, and carried me into the bathroom. Without a word, he set me down and flipped on the shower. Steam rolled over the top of it, and he dragged me inside, pulling me into his body. Water cascaded over his shoulders, the errant sprays and surrounding steam cocooning me in enough heat to soften my muscles.

He nabbed the body wash from beside him and filled his palm with the warm orangey scent. The smooth glide of his palms over my skin left a trail of suds that he rubbed in long, relaxing circles, massaging my aching muscles.

“Mmmm,” I purred, as his fingers kneaded the tight threads of tension across my back.

“So it was Emberle who commissioned the video. But who commissioned the murder?”