I step away from him and pull my pajamas out of my bag. I’m not sleeping in my clothes again. I clear my throat and give him a pointed look. The side of his lip lifts in a smirk, making me feel lighter. His smile is contagious. He slowly covers his eyes with his hands to give me some privacy.
I change into my pink satin pajama set. As I’m doing up the buttons on the pajama top, I glance at Axle. His dark hazel eyes are filled with lust and hold me captive as they travel slowly from my head to my toes, like he’s committing what he’s seeing to memory. When his eyes meet mine, they hold a promise of passion, which makes my heart hammer. I avert my gaze and busy myself with folding and repacking my clothes. I sense his eyes stalking me as I make my slow journey into the bed beside him, feeling a mix of butterflies and giddiness from the way he looks at me.
Axle slides his arms out of his vest, kicks off his jeans, and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tanned and taut skin, which is stretched over muscle. My eyes greedily study his body. My hands twitch—I crave to touch him—before my eyes land on his face, where I see a knowing grin. He knows I’m checking him out.
Axle’s a storm of charisma and chaos, but I can’t fight the feelings I have for him. He hides behind jokes and laughter, but behind his tough exterior, he bleeds like the rest of us.
He shuffles into bed next to me. My skin breaks out in goosebumps from the way his warm skin touches mine. I’m lying on my back, while he lies on his side, facing me.
“Why do you kiss me if you said that you don’t kiss women?”
He smirks. “I seem to break all my rules with you.”
I chew my lip, half smiling at his declaration.
He pulls the blanket down and runs his fingertips over my stomach, on top of my pajamas. My eyes close.
“Where did the motorcycle hurt you?” he asks softly.
My eyes connect with his adoring ones. I lift my hand to my shoulder.
With infinite gentleness, he places open-mouth kisses down my neck, eliciting a moan from me. His lips travel across my collarbone in deliberate, soft movements. He pulls at the neck of my pajamas, revealing my shoulder, where he presses a soft lingering kiss on the tender spot where the bike landed on me. My heart races wildly at his tenderness and at how he treasures my body.
“Were you hurt anywhere else?” he asks in a low, husky voice.
My breathing is heavy. It was mostly my shoulder, but I want him to go further, so I point to my lower stomach. His hands brush against my top and his eyes fixate on mine. He slides his hand beneath the bottom of my top and gradually lifts it higher. He watches me intensely, as if giving me a chance to say no, but I give him a brief nod because I desperately need his touch.
As his hand touches my breast, my thighs clench together. He massages one with his large, warm hand. Desire shoots through me. He pushes up my top and leans over, feasting on me. Sucking, pinching, teasing my nipple until my head falls back in pleasure. He plants open-mouth kisses down my stomach, making me shiver. He presses another lingering kiss to my lower stomach, where I said the bike caught me.
He props himself up on an elbow and lifts his head, his eyes surveying mine as his fingers delicately dance back and forth across my skin at the top of my shorts. His eyes search mine, and I brazenly spread my legs. My eyes are begging. I want more. Then his fingers made their way over my shorts.
“Are you a virgin?” he asks in a gravelly voice.
I can’t speak, so I shake my head.
He growls. “I hate that some’s had you before I have.” His possessiveness edges on my raw ache. His hand slides under my shorts. I gasp, heart thumping. His hands go to my core and his finger teases my opening. I tense as his finger enters me, but as his lips meet mine, I relax. I trust him.
He slips in another thick finger, filling me, stretching me, and drags them slowly in and out. Pleasure courses through me. His tongue becomes more frenzied as his fingers thrust in and out, picking up speed. My back arches off the bed as I silently beg Axle to push me over the edge.
I’ve brought myself to orgasm before. Three-pump Henry never did it for me. When Axle’s thumb meets my clit, I buck as it swirls in slow circles. My breaths come short and quick. Throwing my head back, I clutch the bed sheets. Pulling back, he watches me as I writhe under his touch.
“Come on my fingers,” he demands as he increases the pressure on my clit. My ears are ringing. I struggle to draw in air.
“Let go and come for me, baby.” The deep rumble of his voice and the added pressure of his thumb splinter my last shred of restraint. My muscles contract and release as spasms throw me into bliss. Lights dance behind my eyelids as I ride the waves of ecstasy, one after another, until I lie limp.
My eyes flutter open. His pupils are so dilated that his eyes are almost black, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. “You’re gorgeous when you come.”
I glance down at his throbbing erection, my hand instinctively moving toward it. He tightly grasps my wrist. “Tonight is about you.”
A new ache starts. I want him inside me. He lifts the fingers that were inside me and puts them to my lips, so I open, and he slides them into my mouth. Without hesitation I suck on his fingers, tasting myself, not caring.
He kisses me once more, this time slow and deliberate, each movement tender and full of warmth. With the gentle pressure of his lips, the slight tilt of his head, and the way his eyes soften when he looks at me, I know nothing could ever compare to the way he makes me feel.
Thirteen
He’s a Storm of Charisma and Chaos
Elena
