Page 93 of The Last Second Chance
Joey did moan now. This was what she wanted, this feeling of fullness that chased all other thoughts out of her head. There was room for nothing but pleasure and the craving for more.
He was moving now, an achingly slow rhythm that had her head falling back against his shoulder.
“You’re everything to me,” he gritted the words out against her throat, sliding into her until every inch of him was buried in her heat.
She taunted him with her hips, swiveling them and pressing back against him. She wanted him fast and a little rough. Not whispering sweet nothings in her ear, sweet nothings that shot straight to her bruised heart.
His hands abandoned hers for her breasts, cupping them in his calloused palms. The speed she was so desperate for came now. A fast thrill raced through her as she felt Jax’s control slip just a little more.
She bent at the waist, her head dipping between her outstretched arms and hips driving back against him as he thrust harder. The snow outside her windows was forgotten as the heat rose degree by scorching degree.
Exhilaration and anticipation spiked in her. This was what she’d silently mourned deep in her soul all those years. This need tangled with an intimacy so raw she couldn’t tell whether they were two or one. She’d never had this with another man, had feared she would never find it again.
And what exactly did that mean that she had found it again with Jax?But the thought tumbled out of her head when he skimmed a palm over her stomach and then lower to stroke her.
His thrusts were becoming wilder, more erratic. Her fingers cramped on the thin bars that she gripped like lifelines. Sounds of desire—the slap of flesh to flesh, the short gasps of breath—filled the room.
“I need you to come, Joey,” he ordered.
“Come with me,” she gritted the words out. She selfishly wanted to feel it again, that second when two people couldn’t be any closer. She wanted her release to drag him with her, to share the fall and spiral down, down, down together.
The pads of his fingers worked her sensitive nub, swamping her system with a pleasure there was no defense against.
“Jax.” His name was a gasp, a prayer.
“I’m with you. I’m with you.”
And he was. As she felt the first tremors of her release, Jax gave a triumphant shout behind her. He poured himself into her matching tremor for tremor as she dissolved around him. Joey didn’t see snowflakes, she saw fireworks. Bright and bold in the night as she surrendered everything.
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“Jax?”
“Huh?”
“Are you alive?”
Jax took an inventory of his body. It was still there, sprawled over Joey’s bed and part of Joey. His heart still beat. His breath still moved. But he couldn’t seem to find the will to move.
“I think so.”
“Good.” Joey’s voice was muffled by the pillow her face was in. “Am I alive?”
“More or less.” He mustered the energy and rolled over, pulling her with him so she could breath.
“So that’s what it feels like,” she said, stretching lazily.
“That’s what what feels like?”
“The earth moving.” She gave him a sleepy smile.
Jax laughed. “Angels singing.”
“Fireworks. There were definitely fireworks.”
“Fireworks in a blizzard. I like that we can do that,” Jax sighed, wishing she would roll again and nestle into him.
But Joey liked space for her long limbs.
