Page 21 of Purgatory
Instead of moving away, as I suspect he might do, hisreaction to our situation is equally surprising, and entirely noticeable if the hardness in his pants is any indication. He notices too and slowly grinds into me, gauging my response. His eyes track mine the entire time. In return, an audible gasp escapes me as my eyes roll into the back of my head followed by a low moan.
Wanting my undivided attention, he lowers his thumb again, grasping my neck in his large hand and squeezes gently. My eyes return to his as his eyebrows turn down. I don’t know what he’s thinking about, but what feels like an eternity later, he must’ve gotten his answer. Slowly, he lowers his head to mine, pausing for a few seconds to let me move away if I didn’t want this. But I do want this. He scares the hell out of me but my body is on fire and I want him more than I can even think right now.
With his one hand still holding my wrists captive, I do my best to lift up to him, bringing my lips to his in a tentative kiss. His body tightens as he draws in a quick startled breath through his nose. Seconds later, he takes over and dives in after me. Letting go of my wrists, his hands find better uses, with one finding my hair, taking it, twisting it in his fingers, and his other caressing the side of my face. My arms, now being freed, immediately seek out those muscular arms and back and squeeze, hanging on for dear life. His tongue teases the seam of my lips and I open, allowing his tongue to explore my mouth to its limits as it grapples with mine. The taste of him is euphoric and I chase more of the high he can give me. Like a drug addict, I just want more. Anything he’s willing to give me, more of his lips and tongue, more of his body.
What about more bodies? Like two more to be exact...
Like adding gas to the fire, I ignite at the thought, letting out a gasp and a moan that spurs him on. Jax’s reaction to that sound is carnal, using his grip on my hair to turn my head slightly to deepen the kiss as he emits a low growl of sexuallyfueled heat, which combined with his wandering hands, sends shivers down my entire body. His large hand takes my breast in it and squeezes. His thumb immediately going to my nipple to tease it into a tight peak. I don’t think it could get any better. He kisses like a man possessed. Like he possesses me. It's like I’m his and he’s never letting go. He could take me, lock me up and throw away the key at this point. I wouldn’t give a damn, so long as he never stops kissing me like this.
He slowly skates his fingertips down my body, away from the curve of my breast, down the path of my abdomen, straight on to the edge of my underwear. It’s then that I realize I didn’t put anything else on after getting out of bed to check on him so I'm lying there in nothing but a t-shirt and panties. His fingertips leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake and if he goes any further south, he’ll be able to confirm that this particular pair of underwear can officially be declared a FEMA zone. They’re completely flooded.
I moan into our heated kiss and he swallows the sound eagerly, pushing past the elastic boundary, easily finding my clit and soaked core.
“Holy shit, baby doll,” he croaks out, playing my clit like his own personal violin. I press into his hand, silently begging for more. He grants me my wish, pushing his hand further andpressing two fingers into my pussy while keeping his thumb on my clit. On his other hand, he presses his body up so he can look down on my face with heated eyes. My own face, I’m sure, is full of want, complete with half lidded eyes and panting breaths.
Just as he’s about to ask a question, a sound comes from out in the hallway and he comes to an immediate stop, his head spinning to look at the door. As his face returns to mine, it's as if a veil has been lifted. He removes his hand from me and places it on the bed next to my hip.
“Fuck.” He shakes his head. “We shouldn’t be doing this.I shouldn’t be doing this. You need to.... you need to go back to your room.” He slowly lifts off of me and turns to sit on the edge of the bed, facing the opposite direction.
I stare at him in disbelief and confusion. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Please. Just... please...” His voice so low, it’s barely a whisper.
Did I do something wrong? Was he afraid of the others finding out? What gives? Did I give any mixed signals? I don’t think I did. In fact, I think I wasveryagreeable with what we were doing.
“Is everything ok?” I ask, placing my hand on his shoulder. My confidence suddenly shot down to the ground.
He doesn’t answer for a few beats making me even more nervous that I fucked up. Then, he lets out a heavy sigh, shakes his head, slumps his shoulders and looks back at the door, “Just get out....”
Defeated, I stand in front of him, trying to get past his defenses that have seemed to instantaneously pile onto his persona and get nothing. His face that was full of passion just a minute ago has been replaced with cold, hard steel. Impenetrable. I must not move fast enough because the beast within him rears its ugly head and yells a loud “OUT!” making me practically jump out of my skin at his tone.
With a meeksorryI hustle out of his room and back to mine where I fling myself onto my bed.
“What the hell just happened?” I say to myself.
Are we referring to how the hot, impromptu make-out session even got started or the reason for why it abruptly stopped?
Thinking back, that whole interaction was just weird as hell. His dream must have been so intense. The fact that, when he grabbed me, he didn’t even see what he was doingat first should’ve terrified me. It did... until it didn’t. My fast change of warring emotions just goes to show how much I crave interaction. Any interaction. Even if he could have killed me just then. The thought is sobering but even more terrifying than that? I find that I just don’t care.
I wanted him.
Still do.
Even with everything that goes along with him. The danger, the passion, everything else he has to offer, all of it.
But then reality hits again: what the fuck happened? We were in it to win it. He was all for it. I go to lift my shirt to my nose. No... I don’t smell bad...maybe he just came to his senses and realized I'm just not his type... even if I am pretty much the last woman on the face of the Earth...
“Oh God, how depressing is THAT...”
I release a sigh and curl into myself, pulling the blanket over me and shielding myself from the world. My own depression falling over me like a dark cloud caressing my damaged soul. I welcome it, as my black lullaby, and cascade into a restless sleep.
Chapter 15
Alessandra
The next morning, I reluctantly open my eyes and flip my middle finger to the rising sun. This day can go fuck itself. Six ways from Sunday, in fact. I am not in the mood, neither physically nor emotionally, to deal with anybody today so I slink back under the covers and do a little crocodile roll turning the blankets into my own little cocoon of solitude.
Take that extroverts!
