Page 14 of Daggermouth


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She let his hands go, and he stripped her shirt over her head, mouth on her chest before the cloth even hit the floor. She felt his breath catch in his lungs as his fingers found an old bullet wound just under her ribs, the jagged oval where a Veyra officer had tried to end her three years ago.

“This should have killed you,” he whispered against her skin.

“They’ll have to do better than a bullet.” She pushed her hips down, and ground against him.

He pulled at the buttons on her jeans, and she lifted her body just enough for him to slide them down her legs. Jameson moved to touch her face, but she caught his hand and drove it down to her hip, guiding his grip exactly where she wanted it. He didn’t protest. Instead, he looked up at her like she was the only thing in the world worth dying for.

Shadera leaned down, auburn curls falling over her shoulder, and her lips met his. Her nipples brushed against his skin, hard and dark against his chest. The room was freezing, but her body ran hot as engine coolant.

She ground herself against the rough denim still clinging to his hips, then, growing impatient, reached down, and unfastened his belt with a single jerk. The button popped, and she slid his jeans down, dragging his briefs with them, leaving him fully exposed.

His cock stood up straight, thick and veined, the head glistening with proof of his need for her. Shadera wrapped her hand around it, squeezing just enough to make his eyes flutter shut. She let him see her, all of her, just for a moment, then sank down, taking him in a single, unhesitating motion.

They both groaned at the contact, the sound coming out of Shadera’s mouth too close to a whimper for her liking. She rode him slow at first, her pace measured and controlled.

Jameson’s hands found her waist, then her ass, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he said, letting his head drop back onto a bundled blanket. “You always feel so fucking good.”

She leaned forward, bracing her hands on either side of his head, and picked up the pace. Each roll of her hips was deliberate, calculated to draw out the exact sounds she wanted from him. His breathing went ragged, chest heaving beneath her as she worked him with the same precision she used to dismantle her guns.

“Shut up,” she breathed, but her body betrayed her, clenching around him at the praise.

She hated how he could make her respond like this, hated the way her pulse hammered when he looked at her like she was more than just a weapon.

His thumb found her clit, circling with practiced strokes.

“You like it when I tell you how perfect you are,” he murmured, voice rough with want. “You get so wet for me.”

Shadera’s rhythm faltered, a sharp intake of breath escaping her lips. She pressed her palms flat against his chest, using the leverage to ride him harder, faster. “I said shut up.”

Jameson wouldn’t be silenced.

His free hand tangled in her hair, pulling her down until their foreheads nearly touched. “Tell me you want this,” he demanded. “Tell me you want me.”

“I want—” The words caught in her throat as he drove up into her, meeting her movement with a brutal thrust. “Fuck. I want you to stop talking.”

He laughed, the sound dark and knowing. “That’s not what your body’s saying.” His grip tightened in her hair. “You’re so tight around me, Shade. So perfect. Like you were made for this.”

Heat coiled low in her belly, building with each stroke. She could feel herself losing control, her composure cracking under the assault of sensation, and his relentless words.

“You think about this when you’re alone?” Jameson’s voice dropped to a whisper, intimate and devastating. “Think about me inside you? About me fucking you breathless?”

“No,” she lied, but her hips screamed the truth, grinding down frantically against him.

“Liar.” His thumb pressed harder against her clit, and she bit back a cry. “I think about you all the time. Think about making you come undone like this.”

The admission hit her with surprising force. She could see it in his eyes—the raw honesty, the desperate need that went deeper than flesh. It terrified her more than any blade or bullet ever could.

“Fuck you,” she spat at him.

“You already are.” He grinned up at her, that infuriating smile that made her want to kiss and kill him at the same time. “And you’re about to come all over me, aren’t you, Shade?”

Without warning, she pulled away from him, leaving them both gasping at the sudden absence. Before he could protest, she flipped onto her hands and knees, presenting herself to him like an offering.

“Take me like this,” she commanded, glancing back over her shoulder. “And for fuck’s sake, stop being gentle.”

Jameson’s eyes darkened with something primal. He moved behind her, hands gripping her hips as he positioned himself at her entrance. “Are you sure?”