His hands moved with a certainty that made my breath catch. They slid beneath the thin silk of my nightdress, the cool brush of his fingers against my skin startling me before heat bloomed in its wake. He wasn't rushing. No, every touch felt deliberate, as though he had studied the map of me long before this moment and was only now tracing the familiar lines with his fingertips.
The fabric gave way easily, whispering against my skin as it pooled at my waist. I felt bare, not just in body but in spirit, his gaze pinning me as surely as his weight pressed me into the mattress. For a single heartbeat he stilled, his eyes locked on me, and I saw hunger there—sharp, consuming—but layered beneath it was something heavier, reverent, as though he wasn't just looking at me, but memorizing me.
A shiver skated down my spine when his fingers traced upward again, reverent yet unyielding. His touch lingered, slow enough to feel like worship, purposeful enough to make my chest tighten with need. My skin came alive under the path of his hands, sparks catching until fire burned everywhere he went. And his stare—God, his stare—felt like it stripped me to my bones. It wasn't possession. It was revelation, as though in peeling me open he found something he'd been searching for.
The silence between us stretched taut, louder than any words could be. My body moved of its own will, arching toward him, helpless to the pull of his intent. My pulse thundered, urging me to surrender, and I did—I gave myself to that gravity, to instinct, to the ache he stirred.
His mouth found my throat, hot and insistent, his teeth grazing just enough to pull a sound from me I couldn't smother. Each kiss felt like a mark, a claim, his tongue leaving trails that made my breath falter and my body strain closer. When his palm cupped my breast, his thumb circling, coaxing me open, the cry tore free before I could catch it.
He pressed me down into the sheets, his weight an anchor, his body burning against mine. Each shift of him wound me tighter, every touch demanding that I yield completely. My nails dug into his shoulders, clinging, pulling him deeper, terrified of distance, desperate for more.
And then—he filled me. Entered me with a force that stole the air from my lungs, stretching me until there was nothing left but him. A gasp wrenched from my throat, half pain, half pleasure, swallowed instantly by his mouth crashing against mine. He moved within me, relentless, unyielding, each thrust stealing thought, shaking me until nothing existed but sensation.
The room tilted, blurred, the air vibrating with the rhythm of our bodies. My cries rose raw, unashamed, louder with each thrust as fire tore through me, consuming. His grip on my hips was brutal, steadying me as he plunged deeper, merciless, yet his eyes never left mine. That tether—those dark, unflinching eyes—held me even when my body threatened to shatter.
And when I broke, I broke completely. Release ripped through me violent and wild, shaking me apart, leaving me trembling beneath him. My body clung desperately as he surged once more, his groan rough in my ear as he spilled into me, collapsing heavy, spent, and still mine.
For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of us—the ragged scrape of breath, the pounding of hearts, the heat between us refusing to fade. His lips trailed over my skin, slower now, softer, lingering at my throat, my chest, as if setting each place aflame wasn't enough—he had to claim it, memorize it. I writhed under the steady devotion of his mouth, torn between begging him to stop and begging him never to.
When the silk finally slipped away completely, leaving me bare, he only paused to look at me. His gaze was dark, reverent, almost reverent enough to make me forget the predator lurking beneath his skin. Then his hands closed around me again—kneading, teasing, worshipping—until gasps spilled out of me that melted into moans when his tongue replaced his fingers.
I trembled uncontrollably as his touch slid lower, testing, coaxing, until my body arched off the sheets. He held me still with maddening patience, his lips curving against me before plunging me into a storm I couldn't fight. I shattered again. And again. Each wave worse than the last until I was left gasping, shaking, helpless under the storm of his will.
"Jaxon—" His name broke from me, a cry, a plea, a surrender I couldn't stop.
When he rose above me again, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing, time seemed to stop. The air thickened between us, heavy, unbearable, and then he thrust back into me—deep, sudden, tearing my voice into another raw cry.
I clung to him, nails raking his back, while he drove into me harder, deeper, until the edge of pain blurred with the height of pleasure. My body convulsed around him, helpless against the overwhelming force of him.
His breath burned my ear when he growled, low and ragged, "Tell me you want this."
The demand shattered me. Something inside broke loose, release crashing over me in violent waves as my body gave in, surrendered fully. He faltered, groaned, and spilled into me, his body breaking with mine, shaking as though the force consumed him too.
We collapsed, tangled in heat and sweat, our bodies still trembling with the remnants of the storm. My head found his chest, each rise and fall grounding me even as I drifted. His arm circled my waist, heavy, possessive, even in exhaustion—as though letting go would undo everything.
He pressed a kiss to my temple, fleeting, softer than anything before. Not hunger now, but reverence. Something steadier. Something that scared me more than fire.
I closed my eyes, caught between disbelief and peace. Hours ago, he had been a wall, guarded and unyielding. And now… now I lay here, having surrendered not in fear, but in fire.
"Brianna," he murmured, husky, almost uncertain. The sound of my name on his lips sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with desire. It was the danger of believing in him.
I didn't answer. I only breathed him in, letting the silence stretch thin, fragile, as though one word could destroy it. My fingers found his chest, rested over his heart, and felt its steady thud under my palm. Strong. Unyielding. His.
And as sleep tugged at me, I knew something inside me had shifted. The walls I had sworn to guard my heart were crumbling. And though it should have terrified me, I felt only calm—as though I had been waiting my whole life for this moment.
His arm tightened around me, sure, wordless. And I realized, with a weight that nearly broke me: he already knew the choice I had made.