He pulls back just enough to see my eyes, his own burning with a dark promise. “It’ll stretch for my cock. And no, there’s no need to worry. I’ll make sure you’re ready. I’ll make sure you’re dripping. And when the time comes, I’ll make sure you come so hard you’ll be screaming my name into the pillows while I claim that last piece of you.”
He pulls his hands away. “You’re mine, Sisk. And I’m done sharing.”
I think this is it—I think I’ve finally won. That I’m going to get what I want from him. That he’s going to break, but he pulls back. His eyes darken with restraint. “I have no fucking idea how to handle any of this,” he grinds out, frustration warping every word.
He exhales through his nose like he’s trying to push down whatever’s surging under his skin. “So tonight, I need you to be good.”
The bed creaks faintly beneath us.
“Eat your dinner,” he says. “Go to bed. Can you do that?”
I don’t want to say yes.
“I need time, Sisk. Time to get control over…” He gestures between us. At the space practically humming with tension. “This. Myself. I know you know I want you. I can’t fucking hide it. But this is very complicated, dangerous, and I won’t risk hurting you again. Do you fucking hear me? For your own safety, you’ll need to obey me.”
I nod again, because what the hell else can I do?
Jax holds my gaze a moment longer, like he’s testing the edges of my obedience, like he doesn’t fully trust I’ll listen.
He leans forward, brushing his lips against my temple. “Good rabbit.”
And with that, he’s out the door.
I sit there for a while, wrapped in his shirt and the leftover heat of what almost was. I breathe, slow and even, like I’m trying to fool my own body.
Be good, he said.Eat dinner. Go to bed.
So I do. I eat the food he brings me, slowly, mechanically, just enough. I turn off the light and I lie down on the bed. And I try, I really do try, but it doesn’t take long before the ache creeps in again. My body pulses with every breath. I try to cross my legs. Clench.
The memory of his voice slams back into me.If someone is going to tie you up and fuck you until you forget your own name, it’s going to be me.
Goddammit.
I roll onto my back, my thighs pressing together instinctively. I can ride this out, I tell myself.I’m wrong.My hand slides under the shirt to find myself already wet, already swollen, already desperate. Biting my lip to keep quiet, my fingers work slowly, teasing myself with the same restraint he showed earlier. I picture his hands, his voice, his breath on my neck. It takes no time at all. The orgasm is sharp and shameful and not enough. The guilt comes next, curled up in the aftershocks—not because I touched myself, but because I wanted him to catch me.
I throw the blanket off, needing to get up and move before I lose my damn mind. I slip down the hall, keeping my movements light even though the crutches give me away, my fingers still sticky with proof of what I just did.
The living room is dark except for the glow of the window and the tip of his cigarette. I wasn’t expecting him to still be awake. I wasn’t expecting him to be shirtless. And I definitely wasn’t expecting him to look like that. He doesn’t turn, just exhales smoke into the dark, slow and silent.
I can’t help it—my eyes trace every line of his strong back, the shift of muscle, the dark lines of his tattoos telling stories I’ll never know. I know what I feel for him goes way beyond what his looks do to me, but I would be lying if I said he wasn’t the most beautiful man I have ever seen.
“Did it help?”
I startle. “What?”
He turns his head slightly. “You’re not that quiet.”
I stare at him. The humiliation hits hard. But underneath it? A darker thrill.
“I—” I start, then stop. I have no idea what I’m even trying to say.
He flicks the ash.
“Next time you want to come thinking about me…” He turns toward me now, full frame, every line of his torso lit in low amber. “You ask.”
I shift.
“You ask, and you beg, and maybe—if I think you’ve earned it—I’ll let you.”