I grab his face, guiding his mouth back to mine, kissing him deeper, more desperate now. He growls against my lips, and the sound alone sends a rush of heat through me, pooling low between my thighs.
Before I can stop myself, I reach for the hem of his hoodie, sliding my hands under it, feeling the solid muscle beneath my fingertips. His skin is hot, smooth, the definition of his abs tightening under my touch.
Jaxon shudders. His hands slip from my waist to my thighs, and in one, smooth movement, he lifts me onto the edge of my bed.
I gasp softly, legs instinctively parting to make room for him between them, my heart pounding against my ribcage. The ease with which he moves me, the strength in his hands—it sends a wave of heat through me.
He steps in closer, hands gripping my thighs, his thumbs tracing small, slow circles against my skin. Each gentle stroke leaves a trail of fire in its wake, my skin hyper-sensitive to his touch.
"Mads," he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine, his voice low, strained. "Tell me if you want me to stop."
There's genuine concern in his eyes, a vulnerability beneath the desire. He's giving me an out, making sure I'm as certain as he is.
I shake my head, breathless. I grab the bottom of his hoodie, tugging it off, before doing the same with his shirt. "I don't."
His lips crash against mine again, and this time, there's no hesitation. His hands wander, sliding up my thighs, pushing the fabric of my tank higher, exposing more skin. I shiver at the contrast of his warm palms against the cool air, at the way his fingers press just slightly into me, like he's holding himself back from taking more.
But I don't want him to hold back. Pushing back slightly, I slide my tank up and over my head before discarding it to the side.
The cool air hits my skin, raising goosebumps along my arms, my chest. Jaxon's gaze darkens as he takes me in, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard. There's something almost reverent in the way he looks at me, like he can't quite believe this is happening.
I shift forward, pressing myself fully against him, feeling every hard line of his body. A needy sound escapes me before I can stop it, and Jaxon growls, his fingers digging into my hips.
"Fuck, Mads," he breathes, his forehead dropping to mine, his hands gripping me tighter, like he's trying to ground himself. "You're gonna be the death of me."
I smirk, my fingers sliding up his body, nails scraping lightly against his stomach, and he shudders, his grip tightening. The power I feel in this moment—knowing I can affect him like this, that I can make him come undone—is intoxicating.
"What if I don't want to stop?" I whisper, my lips brushing his jaw, my heart racing.
His breath is ragged, his restraint thinning by the second. "Then tell me how far you want me to go, Mads."
He needs the words, needs to know I'm sure. It's one of the things I love about him—his unwavering respect, his need forcertainty. Even now, with desire written all over his face, he's still checking in, still making sure I'm comfortable.
I bite my lip, heat flooding through me, my skin buzzing under his touch. "Just…don't stop yet."
Jaxon's breath is uneven, his forehead pressed to mine, his hands gripping my hips like he's holding himself back, like he's giving me one last chance to stop this before we cross a line we can't uncross.
But I don't want to stop, not even a little.
His fingers graze the waistband of my leggings, teasing, taunting, and I swear, my whole body burns with anticipation. Each light touch is a promise, a question, and my body answers before my mind can catch up.
"Tell me what you want, Mads," he murmurs, his voice low, rough. "I need to hear you say it."
I suck in a breath as I tilt my head up, lips brushing just barely against his. "Touch me."
Jaxon freezes. For a second, he just stares at me, like he's making sure he heard me right, like he's giving me one last chance to take it back.
Then, his lips curl into a slow, lethal smirk. "Where?"
My pulse skips, my whole body lighting up with heat at the question, at the way his voice drips with satisfaction, with control, with something dark and starving.
My breath comes out shaky, my stomach coiling with anticipation.
I meet his gaze, my fingers sliding down his chest, tracing the lines of his abs, my lips parting just slightly as I whisper?—
"Everywhere."
The word hangs between us, heavy with meaning. Jaxon's gaze darkens, his breath heavy, like he's waiting for me to tell him just how far I want to take this.
