Page 142 of Undisputed Player
Her hair was darker when wet, slicked back from her face, emphasizing the delicate line of her jaw, the vulnerable curve of her neck.
She moved across the room toward the walk-in closet, unaware of my stare, of the immediate tightening in my groin. The towel barely covered her ass, giving me teasing glimpses of her thighs with each step. She was so fucking beautiful, so perfectly made, her body a study in elegant lines and subtle curves.
"Stop," I commanded, my voice low.
She froze instantly, her back to me, shoulders tensing slightly. I could see the rapid rise and fall of her breath, the way her fingers tightened on the edge of the towel. She didn't turn around, but that little edge she wore just for me came out—the tiniest smirk. “Why?”
“Because I want to see you,” I murmured, setting my glass down beside the gun. “Turn around, princess.”
She did, but not without making me wait—just a breath, just enough attitude to remind me I’d chosen a princess, not a lamb.
She pivoted, meeting my gaze with wide, dark eyes, the towelclutched demurely to her chest, but even that innocence was a tease, lips curved in a secret little smile.
"Come here.” I patted the bed beside me.
She approached, slow and silky, and the way she kept her chin up, the way her tongue darted nervously over her lower lip, told me she liked it when I demanded.
When she reached the bed, I sat back and let my cock tent the sheets, knowing she’d see, knowing she couldn’t miss what she did to me.
Her gaze dropped, cheeks flaming with a blush that made my blood pulse in want. I let her stew, picking up my glass, taking a lazy, deliberate drink. Her gaze flicked to it, pupils dilating slightly as she caught sight of the gun.
“Like my cock, princess?" I teased, setting the scotch down, my fingers deliberately brushing the grip of the gun. Her eyes tracked the movement, breaths coming just a bit faster.
Before she could answer, I reached out and grasped her wrist, tugging her forward. She gasped, falling onto the bed, her free hand clutching desperately at the towel. I maneuvered her easily, positioning her so she straddled my abs, her knees on either side of my ribs. The towel had loosened in the process, slipping down to pool around her hips.
"Jax!" she protested, grabbing for the fallen towel. Her indignant tone made me grin.
“No," I said, plucking the towel away completely and tossing it across the room. "I want to see you."
She huffed—but she was naked now, exposed, her skin prickling with goosebumps in the cooler air. Her breasts were small, perfect mounds, the nipples pebbled and flushed. Her waist was narrow and her hips flared gently, leading to the soft folds of her little cunt, already damp from more than just the shower.
“You’re mine,” I murmured, running my hands possessively along her sides. She trembled beneath the touch, lashes fluttering. My praise, low and rough, made her arch for more. “So fucking beautiful.”
She tossed her hair, a small, princess defiance. “You say that every night.”
I smirked, brushing my knuckles over one tight nipple. “And I’ll say it every night for the rest of our lives.” I tweaked her nipple, watching her squirm, loving how easy it was to make her melt.
Her eyes flicked over my shoulder, landing on the gun again. Her breath stuttered, and I saw the pulse flicker in her throat—a thrill of nerves, desire, dread. I reached past the gun for my glass but let my fingers brush the grip just to make her shiver.
“Do you get off on it?” I mused, voice casual. “Knowing what I have right here? Knowing I’d use it on anyone who threatens you?”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t look away. “Are you going to use it on me?” The question was whispered, barely there, a challenge and a plea.
“Maybe.” I sipped, then set the glass down, satisfaction making my words a shade rougher. “But not to hurt you. Just to remind you that you’re safe now. That you belong right here.”
Before she could sass me with another “why,” I tugged her forward, one hand on her nape, guiding her down until I could kiss her full.
I pressed my tongue between her lips, the cold liquid passing from my mouth to hers, some of it spilling, trailing down her chin and throat, between the valley of her breasts.
I watched its path with hungry eyes, then leaned forward to lick it up, starting below her breasts, following the trail up her sternum, her throat, her chin, before reclaiming her mouth.
She tasted like expensive scotch and my Estelle, something I'd become addicted to in the time she'd been mine. Her hands had found their way to my shoulders, her nails digging in slightly as I deepened the kiss, my tongue exploring her mouth with deliberate thoroughness.
"My good princess," I murmured against her lips. "Letting me taste you."
I trailed kisses down her jaw, her neck, nipping lightly at where her pulse drummed. She was so responsive, so beautifully reactive toevery touch. One hand cupped her breast, teasing the nipple to a newly urgent peak before I bent and sucked it in, rolling her other with my fingers, alternating between gentle and bruising.
She moaned, hips seeking friction, rutting wetly against the ridges of my abs. “Always so desperate, princess? Trying to get yourself off on me just from this?”
