Page 117 of Finding His Redemption

A fierce, angry protectiveness chased away the shame. “Don’t say that bastard’s name. Erase him from your mind, and I’ll erase the memory of him from your body. He doesn’t matter anymore because I care about you more than he ever did.” His voice broke on the words, and he dropped his forehead to hers. “God, Nessie, I care about you so fucking much it scares me.”

He kissed her then, slow and deep, and she could taste the promise in it. This wasn’t just about desire, though God knew she wanted him with an intensity that made her shake. This was about claiming something for herself, about choosing to be touched by hands that would never hurt her, about learning what her body could feel when fear wasn’t part of the equation.

When his mouth left hers to trail hot kisses down her throat, she arched beneath him, a sound escaping her lips that she didn’t recognize as her own.

She hadn’t known words could burn on her skin until Jax whispered against her jaw, “Do you remember how it feels to come for me, sweetness?”

“Yes.” Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, needing everything he was offering her.

“I’ll make you do it again, but I want to taste you first.” His tongue dipped into the hollow at the base of her throat, and shegasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Every fucking inch of you will know my tongue.”

Her head fell back against the pillow. “God, yes, please.”

She’d never been worshipped like this. Every kiss, every scrape of his teeth, every brush of his tongue felt like reclamation. Her body was hers again, not something to be controlled or owned, but something to be celebrated.

When his mouth moved lower, trailing fire down her stomach, she thought she might lose her mind. He undid her jeans with a rough, one-handed jerk, then slid his hand inside, his fingers finding her soaked entrance. The first touch made her gasp, the second had her sinking her teeth into his shoulder. He worked her clit in tight, perfect circles, while his mouth closed over her breast and his other hand tangled in her hair like he was drowning and she was the only thing keeping him afloat.

She should have been scared. Should have been remembering the way violence used to masquerade as love. But Jax was nothing like Alek. Every touch was a question.Is this okay? Do you want this? Can I have more?There was a gentleness in his roughness. He held her like she might break, while he also desperately wanted her to fly apart.

“Christ, sweetness, this pussy is weeping for me,” he groaned, flicking his tongue against her nipple. “So hot, so soft, so ready to take my cock.”

She was. She was burning from the inside out, every nerve ending alive with need. “Yes, I want your cock.”

“Not yet.” He pressed a finger into her, and she arched off the bed at the jolt of pleasure.

“You like that?” he asked, voice so low it vibrated through her stomach.

“More,” she whispered, clapping her thighs tight around his hand.

“You’re a greedy little thing, aren’t you? Trying to suck my finger in and hold it.” He pumped it slow and deep with each word, curling it until she cried out. He added another finger, and another, stretching her until she trembled and her legs fell open again. The heel of his palm pressed against her clit with every thrust of his hand, and she could feel herself climbing toward a peak that felt like it might shatter her completely.

She tugged at his jeans, frantic. “Off. Now.”

“No, greedy girl.” He slid his hand out of her pants and lifted his glistening fingers to his mouth. He made a low humming sound as he licked them clean and met her gaze. “I still have more of you to taste.”

The promise made her whole body clench with anticipation. “Then taste me.”

His eyes went dark, and he kissed her hard once before pulling back to strip off her jeans. The cool air hit her overheated skin, but she didn’t have time to feel exposed because Jax was staring at her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Christ, Nessie,” he breathed, his hands skimming up her thighs, leaving trails of fire in their wake. “Look at you. So fucking sexy.”

She’d never considered herself sexy. She had stretch marks and a mom pouch she couldn’t get rid of, no matter how many sit-ups she did. But with the way Jax was admiring her now, she felt like a goddess.

He settled between her legs, and his mouth found her inner thigh, nipping lightly. He was taking his time, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her skin, building the tension until she swore she would die before he got to his prize.

“Jax, please?—”

“I know, sweetness. I’ve got you.”

He lapped at her with his tongue, and she cried out, her back arching off the bed. The sound was way too loud, and she bit down on her knuckle, suddenly terrified of waking Oliver.

They couldn’t stop now. She’d combust if they did.

“Do you think of me when you play with yourself?” he asked, his voice guttural, vibrating against her as he stretched her open with his fingers. “Because I think of you.”

“Yes.”

“Every time?”

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