The bedroom door slams open. Then we’re in the dark.
Not just in the room—but in somethingelse. Something deeper. The kind of dark that breathes. The kind that presses into your skin and whispers things you’re not ready to hear.
He lays me down like he’s placing a weapon on display. Stands back and lights the candle on his nightstand. Then he looks at me. His eyes have turned almost fully black, his pupils blown so wide that they could drown me—part of me wants them to.
“You have no idea,” he murmurs, unbuttoning his shirt, “what I’ve had to fucking resist.”
My breath snags, because Idoknow. I saw it in the way he watched me. In the way his hands hovered too long. In the way he looked at Benny—not as a man— but as a threat to hisproperty.
He shrugs off his shirt. Undoes his belt and steps out of his jeans and underwear.
The sight of him—towering, thick, already hard—makes my throat close. Yeah, I slept with Tyler, but he wasn’t even half the size of Jacob, and even that hurt. There’s no way that will fit. No way it won’t break me. And maybe that’s the point.
“Every inch of this is yours to take. And youwilltake it.”
The words slam into me, heat and dread colliding in my veins. My mouth opens, but no sound comes. All I can do is stare—at him, at the threat, at the promise.
My body burns. Fear curls in my stomach, relentless, but it’s drowned by the ache clawing lower, hungrier. I shake my head before I even realize it, but it isn’t no. It’s disbelief. Awe. Terror. Want.
He kneels between my legs and yanks my panties down, rough and fast. They tear a little at the seam, but he doesn’t care. I’m exposed now. His hand grips my thigh—spreads me open—and I brace for pain. But he doesn’t enter me. Not yet. Instead, he lowers his head.
Andlicks.
The first stroke of his tongue is brutal in its precision, sending memories flooding back of how much I wanted him to continuewhen he had me laid across the table. I jolt like I’ve been struck, a sound escaping my throat I didn’t even know I could make.
My hips try to jerk away. He grips them down.
“Oh no,” he growls. “You’re not going anywhere.”
His tongue moves again, firmer this time. Slower. He doesn’t rush. Hedevours. I look down and see his whole mouth cupping me, he moves his head, sucking, licking, bringing every sense in my body to the area he feasts on.
I cry out, hand flying to my mouth. He pulls away, eyes dark with warning.
“If you hide your sounds again,” he says, voice flat, “I’ll stop.”
I drop my hand. He goes back in. And this time, I let myself fall apart. It’s relentless—like everything he does. Every flick of his tongue is a punishment. Every suck of his lips is a reminder that this is his mouth, and I’m the only thing he wants to fill it with. He fucks me with his tongue until I’m shaking, thighs trembling, moaning like a woman I don’t recognize. The kind who’s never been touched like this. The kind who never thought she’dwantto be.
The orgasm hits fast. Hard.
I cry out but he keeps going. I try to close my thighs, but he holds them open. The sensation is too much, but he draws it out until it hurts.
Finally, he pulls back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Mine,” he mutters. “Fucking mine.”
He climbs over me. Kisses me—deep, filthy, letting me taste myself on his tongue.
And then positions himself at my entrance.
My heart stops. This is it.
“Jacob…. I’m scared.”
He kisses my throat. “I know.”
He presses the tip against me, just enough to make my body lock.
“But you’re gonna take it,” he murmurs, voice low and absolute, like prophecy carved into stone. “Every inch. Every goddamn inch you begged for.”
