Page 50 of Wrath

It took every ounce of strength I possessed, but I managed to inch my hand up his shirt so my palm splayed across his taut abs. Another shudder rippled through him. One of his hands left my waist. It slowly traveled up my bare belly and stopped just beneath my breasts. Prickles of heat ran up and down my skin.

“Jax, I’m here. It’s me,” I whispered, continuing to caress his skin.

It felt abnormally hot beneath my hand. Feverish. The backs of my eyes burned.

What the fuck had that evil bitch of a mother done to him?

His thumb gently grazed the underside of my breast. Once. Twice. Three times. On the fourth rotation, he managed to flick my nipple.

He still wasn’t feeding. His lips remained on my skin, both a threat and a promise. I knew he hadn’t come back to himself, not yet, but he was close. So, so close.

“It’s me. I love you. I’m here.” I shakily began to unbutton his pants and tug them down. It was easy to do, considering how thin he had become.

His cock sprang free, hard and wanting, and I ran my hand over it a few times before giving it an experimental tug. He growled against my neck.

“Yes. It’s me, Jax. It’s me. I love you.”

I didn’t know if my words managed to penetrate the haze his mind had become, but he suddenly gripped my hips like a man possessed. Without a word, he shoved me against the wall, tugged my panties to the side, and thrust inside of me. It was quick, harsh, and brutal.

He began to fuck me against the wall of the maze, pulling back just enough to stare at me. I expected to seemyJax peering back at me—his eyes full of love and wonder, adoration and respect—but he was too consumed by his sin. By gluttony. By the vampire inside of him.

I was weak from blood loss, so incredibly weak, but I managed to grab his chin and force his gaze to mine.

“It’s me, Jax. It’s me. It’s Z. I love you. I forgive you. I love you.” I didn’t know what else to say to him, how to get through to him.

All I knew was that love thrummed headily through my veins. This wasn’t him. I knew that. I didn’t blame him.

But he would blame himself if he didn’t snap out of it.

He fucked me harder, his thick cock pistoning in and out of my tight pussy, and despite my pain, lust raced through me.

“Yes, Jax. Yes,” I panted out, gauging his reaction carefully.

Lines deepened at the corners of his mouth, which was stained red with my blood.

With another roar befitting an animal, he yanked my already destroyed shirt up just enough to bare my breasts. He focused on the way they bounced as he fucked me against the wall.

“I love you, Jax. I love you,” I cried as he captured one of my tits in his hands and squeezed.

I ran my own palms over the broad slope of his shoulders, down his biceps. My skin tingled with the intensity of his gaze.

His eyelids drooped, languorous and heavy, as he came inside of me with a roar. He lowered his forehead to my shoulder, his breathing heavy and unsteady.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” I breathed, running my fingers through his hair.

He slowly lifted his head and blinked at me, seemingly in a daze. Confusion blanketed his face for a fraction of a second before he took in our position—and the bloody mess that was my neck.

He stumbled backwards as if he were on fire, his wet dick hanging limply between his legs. I used the wall to guide myself to the ground. I wasn’t sure I was capable of standing anymore, and not just because of the blood loss.

Jax had fucked me so hard I was sure I’d walk funny for weeks.

“Oh my god.” Jax stared at me in dawning horror, and I was so incredibly fucking thankful to see it was my Jax staring back at me, not the vampire wearing his face. “What did I do? What the fuck did I do?”

He dropped to his knees in front of me and practically ripped his shirt off. He placed it against my bleeding neck as tears trailed down his cheeks. “I’m so fucking sorry, Z. I’m so sorry.”

He began to sob.

“I look like a fucking mess,” I said with a snort.

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