Page 37 of Reckless: Chaos

“Promise?” I whisper, deliberately provocative.

His smile is all predator as he leans in, lips brushing my ear. “Oh, Glitch. I’m going to make you feel so good you won’t even notice when Finn comes in to check your vitals.”

Warmth pulses low in my belly at his tone, warring with the increasing throb in my shoulder. The pain medication’s timeline displays on the bedside tablet—one hour and seventeen minutes until my next dose. My vitals scroll beneath it, a constant digital reminder of my body’s betrayal.

“What happened to waiting until I’m healed?”

“Changed my mind.” He settles beside me on the bed, carefully arranging pillows to support my injured side. His hands skate up my thighs, but his eyes track the medical readouts. “Though if those numbers spike any higher, Finn’s gonna burst in here with a lecture about respiratory rates and healing protocols.”

Through the walls, I hear the soft beep of the security panel—probably Ryker checking the perimeter again.

“And what exactly are you planning to do about those numbers?” The challenge in my voice makes his eyes darken.

“Oh, sweetheart.” His voice drops to that guttural register that makes me shiver. “I’m going to show you exactly what happens when you push me too far. When you test my control while I’m already hanging on by a thread.”

“Jinx...”

“Stay still for me,” he murmurs against my skin. “Let me make you feel good.”

“Gonna wreck you so fucking good you forget about everything else.” His voice is gravel and glass, that feral edge I love bleeding through his careful control. “Make you feel so damn good you can’t think about anything but my hands on you.”

The tips of his calloused fingers trace a path from my collar bone to the valley between my breasts, igniting sparks across my skin. His eyes, once gleaming with mania, have intensified, laser-focused like a predator who has finally captured his prey.

“Stay still,” he orders as I arch into his touch. The movement pulls at my stitches, sending fresh pain signals cascading through my nervous system. The medical monitor chirps a warning. “Fuck, careful with that shoulder. Finn will have my ass if you tear anything.”

To emphasize his point, he pins my hips firmly with one hand while the other explores further south, positioning himself so there’s no pressure on my injured side. The IV line and monitoring cables create a complex web we have to work around, like the world’s most medical game of Twister.

“Your heart rate’s climbing,” he mutters, glancing at the displays. “We need to keep it under control or?—”

The soft knock at the door proves his point. “Everything alright?” Finn’s voice carries just enough professional concern to be embarrassing. “I’m seeing some elevated numbers.”

“Fine,” I call back, trying not to sound as frustrated as I feel. “Just... adjusting positions.”

The quiet cough from the hallway sounds suspiciously like masked laughter. “Try to keep those vitals stable. And Jinx—mind the shoulder rotation.”

“Stay still.” Jinx’s scolds.

“Easy for you to say.” My voice catches as he finds a particularly sensitive spot. “You’re not the one being teased.”

“No?” His laugh is ragged against my throat. “You think this isn’t torture for me?” He drags his teeth over my pulse point. “Touching you like this, having to hold back...”

I gasp as his skilled fingers press and rub against my clit in a relentless rhythm, pushing me towards an overwhelming crescendo of pleasure.

“Doesn’t feel like you’re holding back.”

“You have no idea.” He punctuates each word with a devastating stroke. “How much I want to...” His touch becomes firmer, drawing a moan from deep in my chest. “How bad I need...”

My good hand finds purchase in his shirt as he builds a rhythm designed to drive me insane. Every touch is precisely calculated to bring me closer to the edge while keeping my injured shoulder completely still.

“Jinx,” I manage between ragged breaths. “I need...”

“I know exactly what you need.” His voice drops to that dangerous register that makes heat pool low in my belly. “Been thinking about this since they wheeled you into surgery. Planning exactly how I’d take care of you when I got you back.”

His mouth closes over one nipple, teeth scraping gently, and every nerve ending in my body sings with anticipation. Hishands roam over my skin with careful possession, marking me as his even as they explore.

I gasp as he slides lower, his alpha scent growing stronger with his arousal. Even unbonded, the pheromones hit me hard, making my body respond in ways I’m not ready to examine too closely. His tongue sweeps across my belly button before moving lower, and the possessive growl he makes sends shivers down my spine.

“Look at me,” he demands, and there’s something dangerous in his voice—something that speaks to instincts I usually keep locked down tight. I force my eyes open to find his gaze burning into mine, pupils blown wide with alpha need. The raw hunger there makes my breath catch, reminding me why unbonded betas are warned about feral alphas. But instead of fear, all I feel is desperate want. “Need to watch you come apart for me. See exactly what I do to you. How your body responds to my touch even without a bond.”

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