Page 101 of Chained

"Yeah." My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to.

She turns gently, her arm falling to her side but our bodies closer than ever. My hand lands back to her waist, fingers running small circles against her hip. Her eyes keep flickering from mine to my lips, and I am dying to close the distance, to feel her lips against mine once again.

"Will you do something for me?" she whispers softly, but there's a husk to her voice.

"Yes." It's all I can say without falling to pieces.

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

There was never going to be another answer. Even though I know Melina will be waiting. Even though I know at any point, Vincent or a guard could walk in.

"Do you want me to?" I ask softly, eyes searching for the answer. She doesn't respond, her fingers lace between mine. And for a second, we stay like that until she turns and leads me back into the bedroom.

"You're soaked," she says, grabbing the towels from the drawer and handing me one.

"Yeah, I guess that's what happens when you stand in the rain like crazy people." I smirk.

She lets out a tired laugh as she dries herself with the towel before grabbing a new night dress. She stands awkwardly, fingers picking at the fabric.

"I, um…" She pauses, biting her bottom lip. "I don't like to go in the bathroom."

"I can turn around, if that's what you're asking."

She nods, offering the smallest smile. I turn without hesitating, rocking back and forth on my heels. I've never done this with anyone but Melina, never spent the night with another woman. I don't know what to say or do. It's awkward. Fuck, I'm awkward.

"I hope you liked the stories." I roll my eyes at the sound of my own voice. Fuck, I'm pathetic.

"I did." I hear the sound of her nightdress falling to the floor, the wet, heavy material thudding against the carpet. Her footsteps come next, slow and careful until she's standing before me.

I almost pass out at the sight of her. I try not to let my eyes linger on her naked skin. She presses her palm against my chest, clearing her throat.

"Amora…" I say through gritted teeth, my cock already throbbing in my boxers as I drink every inch of her in. I want this. Fuck, I want her. I want nothing more than to lose myself with her, but I can't. It isn't right. I try to pull away, but she stops me.

"Don't," she whispers, her fingers slowly caressing my chest through my shirt. Her eyes never leave me, holding me in place. Freezing me in this fucking moment. Her hand moves slightly until she's holding mine, moving me between her thighs. "Make me feel something, Jax. Make me feel anything but him."

"Are you sure?" I ask, my hand trembling between her thighs. I need to hear her say it. I need to know she wants it. I can't be like the men in the manor—like the ones who take without permission. I'm already a monster, but I'll never be that kind.

She leans in, her mouth so close to mine I can almost taste her, and she whispers against my lips, "Please."

Her plea shatters whatever restraint I have left. I press my forehead to hers, our breaths mingling, my hand still trembling between her thighs. I never realised how much I've wanted this, how much I've longed to feel her. I slide my fingers gently along her soft entrance. She's warm, already wet for me, and the realisation nearly undoes me. I stroke her slowly, savouring the way her hips tilt toward my hand, hungry, desperate to feel anything but him.

I should push her away. I should stop before I give in and completely take her, but I can't. Her wetness soaks around my fingers, her nails scraping along my jaw, guiding my mouth to hers. The kiss is messy, all teeth and heat, her tongue seeking mine, her body arching up. I cup her sex, circling her clit with my thumb, feeling her shudder, her breath catching in my mouth. She moans, the sound raw and honest, and I swallow it greedily, needing it like air.

I inch my fingers inside her, slow at first, letting her adjust. Letting her know I'll never rush her. Letting her know that she can stop this whenever she wants. That it's her choice. She gasps, her thighs trembling around my hand, her head falling back. I watch her—watch the way her lips part, the way her eyes flutter closed, the way she lets herself come undone just for me. I curl my fingers, searching for that spot, pressing until her hips jerk, until she's panting my name, her voice breaking.

"Jax…please…more…"

Fuck, the way she says my name makes my cock throb more. I don't disappoint, thrusting my fingers deeper, faster, my thumb working her clit in tight circles. She's so fucking responsive; every sound she makes goes straight to my cock. I want to taste her, to fill her, to make her forget every other man who's ever touched her.

We move to the bed, and I take a moment to really look at her as she lays down. Her caramel skin glowing in the moonlight, dark coiled curls spread across the white sheets. I've looked at her so many times but tonight is different. Tonight feels like the first time I've truly ever seen her and now I don't think I'll ever be able to stop. Even though I know that the only reason she wants this is to forget but I'm too lost in the moment, too drunk on the way she moans my name. I lower my mouth to her breast, her nipple a deep brown against her dark skin, taking it between my lips. She arches, pressing herself into me, her hands fisting in my hair. I move lower, kissing a path down her belly, tasting her skin, feeling her muscles quiver beneath my tongue. When I settle between her thighs, she opens for me without hesitation, her legs draping over my shoulders. I look up at her, needing to see her, needing her to see me. Then I bury my face in her, licking her slowly. Her hips rise to meet my mouth, her moans turning frantic, her thighs tightening around my head.

I suck her clit, flicking my tongue over it and sliding my fingers in and out in time with my mouth. Her hands clutch the sheets. Her whole body tenses, teetering on the edge. I don't let up, pushing her higher until she breaks apart, crying out, her body shuddering around my fingers and tongue. I don't stop until the last tremor passes, until she's spent and gasping, her body limp and open beneath me.

I crawl up her body, kissing her, letting her taste herself on my lips. Her eyes are glazed, pupils blown, but she pulls me down, her hand sliding into my jeans, finding me hard and aching. She frees me, her grip sure and needy. I shudder, biting her lip, nearly losing control.

I rip off my shirt, then my jeans and boxers, kicking them to the floor. I press my length against her entrance, rubbing the head through her slickness, teasing her, making her whimper with anticipation.

"Tell me you want this," I growl, hovering at her entrance, every muscle tensed.