Page 90 of Undisputed Player
I moaned in response, hazily watching his blond, sweat-dampened hair fall into his eyes as he thrusted into me. He held me with a tenderness that belied the filthy words spilling from his mouth, and I knew he was mine, too. Only I would ever see this sight again.
“And you’re mine,” I breathed, watching his blue eyes flick to mine with a dark fire burning through them.
“Yes,yes yes yes. I am all yours, princess. This big cock belongs only to you.” He shivered from the admission, moaning as he squeezed my hips tighter and thrusted faster.
The pressure was building again, faster this time, more intense. My body was already primed, already desperate for another release, and he knew exactly how to push me over the edge.
“You’re close,” he observed, breath hot against my ear. "Your pussy's getting tighter, gripping me like you never want to let go."
The words were filthy, possessive, and they drove me wild. I could feel myself climbing toward another peak, my body trembling with the effort to hold on.
"Let go," he whispered, his thumb pressing harder against my clit. "Come for me again. I want to come with you.”
I screamed as my body convulsed around him, my back arching as I cried out his name. It was so intense, so blissfullygood.He groaned, his own control slipping as my walls squeezed him relentlessly.
"Fuck, yes," he panted, his hips stuttering against mine as he came again with a deep, sexy moan. "So good, so fucking perfect."
When he finally collapsed beside me, we were both breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction. He pulled me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me possessively.
“I’m yours,” he murmured into my hair, his voice soft but certain. "Always yours, princess."
I lay curled in his arms, feeling claimed, cherished, and completely satisfied. Both of us were drunk on each other, and I knew he was right. He was mine, and I wasn’t afraid to claim him anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Jax
I woke before dawn, my internal clock calibrated to predatory hours when the guys preferred to take the party bus out.
But this morning was different. This morning, I had something worth protecting curled against my chest.
My princess. My perfect princess who'd screamed my name and begged for more just hours ago.
The moonlight had given way to the soft gray of pre-dawn, filtering through the windows. She looked ethereal in that light—honey hair spilled across my pillow, lips slightly parted and still swollen from my kisses, the chain with my initial still around her throat.
Mine.
The possessive satisfaction that rolled through me was more intoxicating than the finest scotch. She was here, in my bed, wearing my mark. Every breath she took, every soft sigh in her sleep, was a reminder that she belonged to me now.
My mind drifted back to last night, replaying every moment invivid detail. The way she'd felt around my cock—so tight, so perfect, gripping me like she never wanted to let go.
The sounds she'd made when I'd thrusted deep inside her, broken little moans that went straight to my head. The way she'd looked at me afterward, dazed and satisfied, like I'd given her the world.
I was already hard remembering it.
She'd been everything I'd dreamed of and more. So responsive, so eager despite her inexperience. The way she'd taken charge at one point, straddling me and exploring my body with those curious hands—I'd never felt anything like it. She'd claimed me like I'd claimed her.
The memory of her mouth on my nipples made my cock twitch. No one had ever done that to me before, and the sensation had been mind-blowing. She'd discovered something about my body that even I hadn't known, and the look of satisfaction on her face when she'd realized how much it affected me had been intoxicating.
She was perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. And she was mine.
But even as the satisfaction of possession filled me, so did something else—an overwhelming need to keep her safe, to give her everything she deserved. The thought of her going back to that shitty apartment, to struggling to make ends meet, made something dark and violent rise in my chest.
She belonged here, in my bed, in my house, in my life. The thought of waking up without her tomorrow morning was unacceptable. I needed her here permanently, needed to know she was safe, cared for, and mine.
I considered Adrian's offer to burn down her building. It would be so easy—her lease would be void, forcing her to accept my help. But even as the thought crossed my mind, I dismissed it. She'd been through enough stress, enough upheaval. I didn't want to add to the weight on her small shoulders.
I'd have to be more subtle. Maybe pay off her landlord to terminate the lease. Maybe buy the building outright and condemn it. There were a dozen ways to make her homelessness look like an unfortunate coincidence rather than the calculated move it would be.
