Chapter Twenty
THE HEAT BENEATH THE WATER (CONTINUED)
GABRIELLA'S POV
“But you know, I'm not done with you yet,” he smirked, standing, pulling away from me as the water cools against my flushed skin.
His words were like strings, tugging hard at my heart. The way he said it in that low, certain, dripping with promise, had me aching all over again.
My body, still humming from the aftershocks of release, trembled again, already getting ready for him again. My pulse pounded heavily in my throat, and I watch him as he reached for a towel, the rough cotton brushing against his fingers.
His gaze flicks down at me, slow and deliberate, his eyes dragging over every inch of bare skin the water hasn't managed to hide. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, like he's tasting me already, and it sends another sharp throb straight between my legs. A low growl escaped his lips.
“Stand up,” he murmurs, his voice sounding dark, and husky. It sounded like a command, yet so soft like he was asking me.
I hesitate, my body still slick and soft, but the heat of his stare, the intensity of it, leaves no room for me to protest. My fingers grip the edges of the tub, my legs feeling wobbly as I push myself up, the water cascading down my curves, sliding off my skin in slow rivulets.
The air bites at me skin and a tiny little shiver coursed through me. But Jax steps closer, discarding the total he brought out for whatever reason. His large hands spanning my waist. His touch is possessive, grounding me, making me feel like his and only his.
“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, fingers tracing the shape of my hips. “You’re driving me insane.”
The words rumble through his chest, deep enough that I feel it vibrate against me as he tugs me flush against him, the hard line of his arousal pressing into my stomach. My breath hitches, and my hands find their way to his chest, splaying across the strong, solid muscle beneath the thin fabric of his shirt.
Without another word, he lifts me, the world tilting as my wet skin presses against his clothes, soaking through, but he doesn’t care. He carries me into the adjoining bedroom, laying me down on the bed, strands of damp hair clinging to my neck as I sink into the soft sheets.
Jax peels off his shirt, slow and deliberate, muscles flexing with every movement, his eyes never leaving mine. The sight of him bare, tanned skin stretched over hard muscle, tattoos dark and dangerous along his arms, makes my mouth dry and my thighs press together in restless need.
His fingers make quick work of his belt, the sound of leather sliding through the loops sharp and hungry in the quiet room. His pants hit the floor, and when he stands before me, fully bare and gloriously hard, my mouth parts in silent awe.
“See what you do to me, sweetheart?” he says softly, stroking a hand down his length, slow and teasing, watching my every reaction. “All it takes is one look at you.”
My breath catches, and before I can find the words to respond, he crawls onto the bed, his body caging mine beneath him. His mouth claims mine again, hotter this time, tongue sliding deep as his hands roam down my sides, memorizing the curves he already knows by heart.
His lips trail lower, mapping a path down my neck, lingering on the sensitive hollow of my throat. I arch for him, my hands threading into his hair, holding him to me as his mouth moves lower still, tracing the swell of my breasts.
He takes his time, nipping, licking, sucking until my nipples pebble beneath his attention, making me writhe beneath him, moaning his name in breathless desperation.
“Jax... please,” I whisper, the need clawing at me, raw and urgent.
He lifts his head, his eyes dark with hunger. “Please what, baby? Say it. I wanna hear you.”
“I want you,” I breathe, voice breaking under the weight of the want pulsing through me. “I need you inside me.”
A low growl vibrates from his throat, and he captures my mouth again, fierce and unyielding. His hand slides down, fingers tracing the soaked heat between my legs, spreading me open for him. He teases me, sliding his fingers through the slickness, making me gasp, making me ache for more.
When he finally presses into me, thick and slow, the stretch makes me moan out loud, clutching at his arms as he fills me completely. His body fits against mine like it was always meant to, every inch of him claiming me, marking me, erasing the loneliness that lived beneath my skin for far too long.
“So tight,” he groans, burying his face in the crook of my neck. “So fucking perfect, Gabriella.”
He moves slow at first, letting me feel every inch of him, every deep, deliberate stroke that leaves me gasping and arching beneath him. My nails rake down his back, desperate to pull him closer, to have him deeper.
“Faster,” I beg, breathless, my voice cracking. “Harder, Jax.”
And he gives it to me, hips snapping against mine, thrusting harder, deeper, until the headboard slams softly against the wall with every movement. His hands grip my hips, anchoring me to him as he pounds into me, relentless and wild, every stroke pushing me closer to the edge.
The room is filled with the sounds of our bodies colliding, the wet, sinful noises of skin on skin, and the ragged gasps that fall from my lips as he fucks me like he’s trying to make me remember him with every nerve ending.
His mouth captures my nipple, teeth grazing, tongue soothing, making my back bow off the bed as the pressure coils tight and hot inside me, ready to snap.
“Come for me, baby,” he murmurs against my skin, his thrusts never slowing. “I want to feel you come around me.”
It’s all it takes—that voice, that demand, that sinful rhythm—and I fall apart beneath him, crying out his name, my body locking tight around him, every nerve ending lighting up with blinding pleasure.
He follows moments later, hips jerking, a guttural growl ripping from his throat as he spills inside me, his body shaking with release. He collapses on top of me, our breaths tangled, sweat slicking our skin together, the world blurring around us as we lay tangled and spent.
His hand moves to my stomach, fingers splaying out protect