Page 85 of Stay with Me

The kiss ... it was wet and deep and it wasn’t good or nice. It was great and everything the romance books claimed kisses were. Jaxtastedme. There were no other words to describe that kind of kiss. Not when he slanted his head and touched his tongue to mine. Not when he flicked his tongue along the roof of my mouth, dragging up a throaty moan from deep within me.

Jax pulled back to say, “I like that sound. Fuck. I love that sound.”

My eyes stayed closed as my lips tingled. “I ... I didn’t know you could be kissed like that.”

“Hell,” he groaned.

He kissed me again, and it was just as great as the one before, but this ... this kiss turned into something more. The hand that had almost been cupping my breast was now seriously cupping my breast, and my body moved on its own. My back arched, and I made that sound again, and he seemed to really like it again, because there was a rich, decadent growl that rumbled through him. Then his fingers moved on my breast, and that damn, skilled thumb of his found the tip of my breast with unnerving accuracy. My head thrust back into the pillow, and his mouth followed me, nipping and kissing as his thumb smoothed over the hardened peak.

His lower body shifted under the covers, settling over mine. Using his thigh, he eased my legs apart and slipped in-between them. I gasped into his mouth as a sharp dart of pleasure pounded through me, centering into one spot.

My brain closed down. I wasn’t thinking aboutanything,and I did it. I kissed him back. I slid one hand off his upper chest, around to the nape of his neck. My fingers tangled in his hair. I chased after him, wanting to tastehim, and I did. He let me take as much as he took, and he let me learn the layout of his lips and mouth. My hips moved on their own accord, pressing against his thigh out of primal instinct.

“God, you’re sweet.” He shifted slightly, lifting himself to give enough room to do a slow slide of his hand down my stomach. “You know what I want? I want to see you get sweeter.”

Sweeter? I was breathing heavy, panting really. My lips felt swollen; so did my breasts. The tension between my legs left me swimming.

“Have you come before?” he asked as his hand reached the hem of my shirt, which was twisted around my hips.

My eyes popped open. What was he doing? I couldn’t let him get his hand under the top. Panic bit into the pleasure as I reached down with my other hand and grabbed his wrist.

His eyes were open, and they were the color of dark chocolate. They made me shiver and want whatever naughty things he was talking about. “Have you come before?” he asked again.

Heat bled into my face and I stuttered out an answer. “Y-Yes. Kinda.”

“Kinda?” He tugged on his arm, and with him being so much stronger than me, I couldn’t stop him. His fingers were below the hem, but not under it. “Meaning no one has ever made you come? No one but yourself?”

Oh my God, I could not believe he was asking me this—that this conversation was even happening. My heart was pounding too fast and I ached; my body literallyached.

His lashes lowered until his gaze turned hooded. “Yeah, I’m going to be the first to give you one.”

Holy hot shivers, he didnotjust say that. “Jax—”

An instant later, his mouth was on mine again, and he got his hand farther down, way below the hem of my shirt. The back of his knuckles brushed the inside of my thigh, and my back almost came off the bed. His hand was moving up, the slight touch against my inner thigh shocking me. I tried to close my legs, but all I ended up doing was squeezing his legs with mine.

“I’m going to touch you,” he said against my mouth, and my stomach coiled tight. Other parts of my body coiled tight, and I wondered if it was possible for a guy to make you come with just words. “That’s all I’m going to do, okay?”

That’s all? Before I could question that, he was kissing me again, and the back of his hand brushed over me—thecenterof me. This time my back did come off the bed, and he made a deep sound of approval. My fingers tightened in his hair and my other hand clenched his wrist. Then the tips of his fingers skated across my panties, and I thought I was going to have a heart attack.

“Calla, babe ...” He kissed the corner of my lips. “Let me touch you.”

I couldn’t. There was no way. Letting him touch me was dumb.

“Let me,” he said, and his voice was like silk over my skin.

My heart stuttered, and my hand around his wrist loosened and then slipped up his forearm, to his flexed bicep.

I was so dumb.

“That’s my girl.”

My girl? Parts of me trilled at the sound of that, and then my blood really was singing, because his fingers had made a couple more passes, an idle circle over my panties that got closer and closer until I moved my hips, and he was touching the bundle of nerves, pressing down with two fingers. Rolling. Pressing. Rolling.

“Oh God,” I gasped against his mouth.

I felt his lips curve into a smile, and the kiss turned wilder as my hips moved against his hand. “That’s it,” he urged, working something like magic with his fingers. “Let me see you get sweeter.”

My head thrust back and his mouth skated over my cheek as I cried out. I might’ve said his name. I wasn’t sure. I was too focused on how the coil deep in the center of me unleashed, whipping out through my system in tight, intense shocks.

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