Jax pulled back to say, “I like that sound. Fuck. I love that sound.”

My eyes stayed closed as my lips tingled. “I . . . I didn’t know you could be kissed like that.”

“Hell,” he groaned.

He kissed me again, and it was just as great as the one before, but this . . . this kiss turned into something more. The hand that had almost been cupping my breast was now seriously cupping my breast, and my body moved on its own. My back arched, and I made that sound again, and he seemed to really like it again, because there was a rich, decadent growl that rumbled through him. Then his fingers moved on my breast, and that damn, skilled thumb of his found the tip of my breast with unnerving accuracy. My head thrust back into the pillow, and his mouth followed me, nipping and kissing as his thumb smoothed over the hardened peak.

His lower body shifted under the covers, settling over mine. Using his thigh, he eased my legs apart and slipped in-between them. I gasped into his mouth as a sharp dart of pleasure pounded through me, centering into one spot.

My brain closed down. I wasn’t thinking about anything, and I did it. I kissed him back. I slid one hand off his upper chest, around to the nape of his neck. My fingers tangled in his hair. I chased after him, wanting to taste him, and I did. He let me take as much as he took, and he let me learn the layout of his lips and mouth. My hips moved on their own accord, pressing against his thigh out of primal instinct.

“God, you’re sweet.” He shifted slightly, lifting himself to give enough room to do a slow slide of his hand down my stomach. “You know what I want? I want to see you get sweeter.”

Sweeter? I was breathing heavy, panting really. My lips felt swollen; so did my breasts. The tension between my legs left me swimming.

“Have you come before?” he asked as his hand reached the hem of my shirt, which was twisted around my hips.

My eyes popped open. What was he doing? I couldn’t let him get his hand under the top. Panic bit into the pleasure as I reached down with my other hand and grabbed his wrist.

His eyes were open, and they were the color of dark chocolate. They made me shiver and want whatever naughty things he was talking about. “Have you come before?” he asked again.

Heat bled into my face and I stuttered out an answer. “Y-Yes. Kinda.”

“Kinda?” He tugged on his arm, and with him being so much stronger than me, I couldn’t stop him. His fingers were below the hem, but not under it. “Meaning no one has ever made you come? No one but yourself?”

Oh my God, I could not believe he was asking me this—that this conversation was even happening. My heart was pounding too fast and I ached; my body literally ached.