He reaches for his jacket, and, being a mature adult, I snatch it and chuck it between the bed and the wall.
“Like fuck you’re staying elsewhere.”
If he goes for the door, I may tackle him. I’ve lost all control.
He cocks his head. “See? You’re as possessive as I am. The difference is I want you.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “I don’t care who knows or sees. I’mbeggingfor you. Not just your attention,you. Why is that hard for you to understand?”
How is he so open with his emotions and desires? He pours his heart out easily.
“Maybe because it’s never happened before…” I shrug, palms up. “You. Aurora. Any of this.”
“Because you never let it.” He rakes his fingers through his hair and tugs at the strands. “If you don’t want me destroying your career, then tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to do with this?” He slaps his chest. “This constant ache?” He takes a step back and gestures towards the door. “You want me to leave or stay? I’m done playing games—it’s only fucking with my head.”
If he leaves, his panic will only escalate. I know because mine will too. We won’t sleep; we’ll either seek each other out or do something reckless.
Tears well in his eyes. I snag his shirt and draw him into my arms.
“Stay. I’ll fix it.” Heat spreads through my veins and ignites every nerve ending, my body intensely focused on each point of contact. “Give me this season. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”
He doesn’t answer, and theache, as he put it, deepens.
I tangle my fingers in his hair and lean in to kiss him. He turns his head.
I grip his jaw and force his face to mine. “Kiss me, Jax. Feel how much I want you.”
He remains tense, his gaze averted. Now I’m the one being punished. My pulse quickens, a frantic drum against my ribs that echoes the rapid beat of his own heart.
I sink my teeth into his bottom lip, biting down until his hips shift and he groans.
Jax doesn’t do anything half-assed. It’s all or nothing, in or out. He loves with his entire being and seeks the same in return.
It’s not enough to hear that I love him—he needs to feel it in his bones, wear it on his skin. He wants to replace the pain of longing and loneliness with the pain of my love and lust.
I can do that, but first, I need to be sure of one thing. “I’d never hurt you—not purposefully. You know that, right? If you want me to stop, I will. Always.”
He sucks his swollen lip into his mouth, his pupils dilated, and nods. “I know.”
“Take your shirt off and hold your wrists out,” I demand.
He complies, and I yank my belt free from my pants.
Using the buckle as the center, I swiftly fashion a double figure-eight then slip the leather over his hands to bind his wrists. When he shows no signs of revulsion, I jerk the loose end taut and rethread it through the clasp.
“Holy shit.” He tests the restraints. “What are you going to do?” His voice holds no fear, only a curious edge.
This is the punishment he’d craved, the one he anticipated. I shouldn’t have second-guessed myself.
I shove him in the chest, and he falls onto the mattress, landing flat on his back.
“Make sure you remember who you belong to.” I kick off my shoes and unbutton my shirt. “Keep your hands above your head.” I shut off the lights and strip to my boxers. “If you don’t, I won’t let you come, and youwillsleep in that bed alone.”
***
Jackson
The curtains are drawn tight, the room pitch-black. Ethan rummages through his bag, and my heart rate spikes, adrenaline shooting through my veins.
“Um…if you’re searching for lube—” I stop mid-sentence at a sound I’ve known for over a decade, a sound that inhabits my dreams: the tearing of hockey tape.
