Page 144 of His Ruthless Match
I nodded shakily, unable to speak as he positioned himself at my entrance. There was something both terrifying and exhilarating about surrendering control like this—especially to him. With one smooth thrust he was inside me, filling me completely. The fullness made me bite my lip and ignited a spark of fiery pleasure deep within me that spread throughout my entire body with every stroke of his hips.
“So fucking tight,” he groaned, his body moving with a familiarity that sent shivers down my spine. Each thrust was punctuated by grunts of pleasure, setting off a chain reaction in my own body.
“Jareth,” I panted, arching into him as he hit something deep inside me. He growled and pressed harder, his fingers digging into my hips as he found a pace we both loved. The rhythm wasprimal and powerful. It spoke of trust and lust and the heat that simmered between us even when we were at odds.
I wanted to grab his ass, cup his balls—do anything to show him how crazy he made me. But my hands were bound, and the very thought of not being in control, of letting him consume me, only pushed me closer to the edge.
Jareth’s hands found my ass, squeezing and pulling me closer with each thrust. He bit his bottom lip, his brow furrowed in concentration as he moved faster, harder. His body shook with the effort of holding back, and I could feel it in every muscle and sinew. I wanted to free him from that restraint—to make him lose control the way he made me.
“Let go, Jareth. I trust you.”
Heat flared in his eyes, and the next moment there was no holding back. He pounded into me, moaning my name as his hips found a brutal rhythm that made my head spin.
“Fuck,” Jareth groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head. “I can’t take much more of this.”
We came together, our cries mingling with the storm outside as we found release in each other’s arms. Jareth collapsed on top of me, his breath warm against my neck.
My pulse thundered in my ears, matching the roar of the rain. With a gentleness that contradicted the passion with which he’d taken me, Jareth unknotted the scarf, freeing my hands. He massaged my wrists, then pressed soft kisses there as if in apology.
My chest rose and fell in shaky breaths. A maelstrom of emotions coursed through me—exhilaration, desire, and a strange tinge of vulnerability. Jareth’s fingers brushed my jaw, guiding me to face him. His gaze was earnest, the lingering desire laced with an unexpected tenderness.
“You okay?” he asked again, searching my eyes.
I nodded, pushing a few stray strands of hair from my face. “Yeah,” I whispered, my throat dry. “I’m okay.”
He gave me a small, genuine smile as he pressed a featherlight kiss to my forehead.
My thoughts drifted to the laptop, the images, the initial teasing—how it had led us here, to this electric moment. Some part of me knew this went beyond mere physical attraction or fleeting lust. I trusted this man. I had let him tie my wrists. I had asked him not to stop. And he had checked in with me every step of the way.
Jareth exhaled softly and laid a hand on my cheek, guiding my gaze back to him. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Delgado.”
I swallowed, unsure if I could voice the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. “I’m thinking this is… insane,” I finally said, opting for partial honesty. “And probably a bad idea.”
He let out a low laugh, but his eyes remained serious. “I won’t deny it’s a bit crazy. But do you regret it?”
“No, I don’t regret it.”
“Then let’s not overthink it.” He brushed his lips against mine in a tender, almost-chaste kiss that made my heart clench for reasons I didn’t quite understand. When he pulled away, his gaze held a faint glimmer of mischief. “At least not tonight.”
I laid my head on his shoulder, and he draped his arm around my waist. The closeness felt both alien and comforting. Once morning came, reality would return in full force. We’d have to face the complexities of whatever this was, not to mention the other dangers lurking outside the door. But for now, I allowed myself to exist in this cocoon of warmth.
We lay like that for a while, neither of us speaking, just absorbing the presence of the other. My eyes began to drift shut, exhaustion and satisfaction folding over me like a heavy blanket.
“Eva,” Jareth murmured, voice rumbling in his chest.
“Yeah?” I answered. I was always surprised when he said my name so gently.
His fingers curled into my waist. “Nothing.” The single word held a quiet note of hesitation and something unspoken. He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Sleep.”
I closed my eyes, letting the rain lull me into that space between sleep and wakefulness. Would we pretend this never happened, like we usually did? Or would we confront it head-on? Was I even ready for the ramifications of letting Jareth in, physically and emotionally?
Those questions faded under the steady lull of his breathing and the dissipating storm.
Eventually, I drifted off, cocooned in the warmth of his presence, dreaming of silk scarves and stormy nights. And for once, I allowed myself to simply be—in his arms, in the moment, with no regrets and no promises. The rest could wait.
40
EVA
