This was about Jack.
My eyes met Jack’s. There was a darkness there I hadn’t seen in a long time.Possession.Like something primal and territorial had been stirred, and Elliott had stepped directly into it.
Elliott was still thrusting into me like he had something to prove. And Jack didn’t say anything, but I knew he was about to. He was watching with that controlled fury I hadn’t seen in years. Not since Michael. Not since the beginning.
I turned my head, but then Jack moved.
He reached down and pulled me off Elliott like I weighed nothing. My body gasped from the loss of him, but I didn’t have time to think. Jack was already spinning me toward him, his mouth crashing down onto mine, full of possessive heat and unspoken rage.
He backed me into the nearest wall, his hand gripping my jaw tight as he broke the kiss with a growl. “Get on the fucking floor.”
I dropped immediately, my knees hitting the plush rug by the fire. It was Jack who consumed me now.
He grabbed his cock, thick and ready. He fisted my hair in one hand and guided me to his cock with the other. “Open.”
I obeyed.
And when he slid into my mouth, when I hollowed my cheeks and looked up at him with wide, obedient eyes, I could feel his possession growing. His other hand joined the first, cradling my head roughly as he started to fuck my mouth—rough and fast.
This was dominance laced with emotion. A storm breaking loose.
He pulled out with a gasp and lifted me effortlessly, turning me so fast I nearly lost my balance. He bent me over an arm of the couch, yanked my legs apart, and thrust into me.
“You’re fucking mine, Hana,” he growled in my ear.
“Yes,” I whimpered. “Yes, Jack—”
His palm cracked across my ass. “Say it again.”
“I’m yours,” I gasped. “I’m fucking yours—”
The sound of him slamming into me echoed with each word, each thrust, each breathless cry that spilled from my lips.
Behind me, I caught movement—Jackie’s widened eyes, her mouth parted in awe or shock or arousal, maybe all three. Elliott was beside her, watching us with his body turned to her, tense as he held onto her waist.
Then something in him seemed to snap.
He grabbed her hips and bent her over the back of the armchair. Jackie gasped, startled, but immediately pushed back into him.
His thrusts were just as rough, just as relentless as Jack’s had been to me. The slap of skin filled the space between low moans and gasps, Jackie’s fingers gripping the arm of the chair as he drove into her from behind.
My body tightened, shook violently as Jack slammed into me one final time before pulling out with a growl, his hand jerking himself fast.
A hot splash hit my back—Jack’s cum, thick and warm, painting my skin as I collapsed forward on shaking arms.
I looked up and Jack’s breathing was heavy–not from exertion, not from release, but from something else. He was watching Elliott fuck Jackie just as roughly, and he saw a challenge.
And the way Elliott looked back at him—he saw it too.
My stomach flipped.
I glanced at Jackie—blissed-out, unaware, lost in pleasure—and I felt a pang of protectiveness. She didn’t see it yet. But I did.
This wasn’t for her. This wasn’t for me.
This was forthem.
And I didn’t know how to stop it.
