She shifted her hips and tilted her head back, threaded her fingers through Jaxton’s hair, and brought his face closer to hers. She stared into his green-gold eyes, his breathing fast and hot on her face, and wondered what it would take for him to make a move. She dared to wriggle her hips again and he groaned at the friction, the sound sending a rush of warmth between her legs.
His response empowered her. She wanted to play.
She leaned forward until the tight buds of her nipples grazed his chest. She resisted rubbing against him and said, “What, you’re not going to order me to go upstairs and go to bed?”
Indecision flashed across his face, and Kiarra decided she wasn’t having it. She’d take her own pleasure, inviting him to join in.
She brushed her hard nipples back and forth against his chest, pleasure shooting though her body with each pass, her panties damp with need. When she finally groaned, Jaxton grabbed her waist and pulled her flush up against him, his heat surrounding her like a blanket.
He lowered his head, his lips a hairbreadth away. “You play with fire, pet, you’re going to get burned.”
She lightly scraped her nails against the back of his neck. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m immune to fire, now isn’t it?”
Jaxton ran a hand up her back, to cup her head. “We’ll see about that.”
And he kissed her.
He’d tried to send her away, but then the bloody minx had started rubbing against his cock, taunting him. Even when he’d offered her a second chance to back out, she’d started rubbing her nipples across his chest. When she started groaning in pleasure, Jaxton’s resolve had shattered, and he kissed her.
And Kiarra was kissing him back.
He sucked her bottom lip before darting his tongue out to the seam of her lips, probing for permission. He willed her to open, wanting to taste her. After the longest second of his life, Kiarra opened her mouth and accepted his tongue.
He plunged his tongue into her mouth and stroked it against hers, reveling in the heady mixture of Kiarra and whatever she had drunk at the pub. He tilted her head for more access, and Kiarra finally tangled her tongue with his before sucking it deeper into her mouth. He felt the vibrations of her groan, and suddenly kissing her wasn’t enough. He grabbed her arse with his free hand, as full and plump as he’d imagined, and started kneading her cheeks. He gave her a slap and took further advantage of her mouth when it opened in surprise.
He groaned. The taste and feel of her made his already hard cock even harder. He wanted nothing more than to feel her skin against his
But despite his lust-filled brain, a rational thought warned him to be careful, since anything could trigger a memory from her past.
He moved his hand from her arse, pushed up the skirt of her dress, and slid his hand up the soft skin of her thigh. But when he reached the outer seam of her knickers, Kiarra tensed and pulled away from their kiss.
Her reaction cleared some of the lust from his brain. Something was wrong. Jaxton found the strength to drop his hand and lean back to look at her face.
Kiarra looked like a deer about to bolt. Something was unsettling her, and no matter if his cock hardened to granite, he would never force her. He rubbed her back and said, “What’s wrong, pet? Talk to me.”
Kiarra’s skin was on fire.
Not in the way it’d felt when she used elemental magic in the past, but every nerve was sensitive, to the point where each of Jaxton’s touches had been a temporary brand on her skin.
Jaxton’s slap had startled her, but the deeper he took their kiss, the more she’d melted against him.
Until he touched her thigh.
The lust-haze of her brain lifted and Kiarra froze. The head guard inside the AMT had often touched her thigh in the same way when she’d refused to strip for him. Whenever she’d put up a fight, the head guard had pinned her against a wall and ripped off her AMT uniform. She’d always been terrified that he would do more than watch her, so she’d suffered the humiliation of his roaming eyes in silence.
After a few months, living day to day in fear of rape, the head guard had suffered a heart attack, ending the nightmare.
“What’s wrong, pet? Talk to me.”
Jaxton’s voice brought her back to the present, back to the room where she stood with a kindhearted man who had spent years of his life looking for his brother. A man who, despite not knowing everything about his past, she felt confident would never abuse or humiliate her.
She realized that he was rubbing her back, and the motion calmed her. Too embarrassed to talk about the humiliation she’d faced, Kiarra laid her cheek against Jaxton’s chest and listened to his heartbeat. With each thump, her memories faded, and Kiarra snuggled a little more against his chest, eventually wrapping her arms around his waist.
With his heat and strength surrounding her, for the first time in a long time, she felt safe.
With her passion cooling, the effects of the alcohol were making her sleepy. Her eyes started to droop and eventually she heard Jaxton’s voice rumble in his chest. “Pet, I think it’s time to get you to bed.”
Kiarra tried to speak, but her mumble was incoherent, even to her. Suddenly, her feet were no longer on the ground and Jaxton was carrying her. But she was too tired to protest, so Kiarra snuggled against his chest and muttered, “So warm…” before slipping into unconsciousness.