Rules of Entanglement

by Gina L. Maxwell

  Shivers raced over her skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake, despite the sheen of sweat proving she was anything but cold.

  “Now,” he rasped as he dragged the pad of his thumb in circles around her clit, “I want you to ask me for what you want. Ask me to let you come, V.”

  His words coated her like honey as hers coated his fingers. No lover had ever spoken to her like that. It was hard to believe he could talk like that. Normally he was all charm and killer smile.

  This side of Jackson was the complete opposite. His tone brooked no arguments, and there wasn’t anything about the way he looked that led her to believe he was joking. On the contrary, she knew he meant every word.

  And it turned her on. Way more than it should.

  He flicked her clit with his thumb and she almost blacked out. Could you die from orgasm deprivation? She’d bet the answer was yes, but she had no desire to find out.

  “Please, Jackson,” she said, not only pleading with her words but in the way her back arched toward the ceiling and her fingers dug into her breasts. “Please let me come.”

  The muscles in his jaw leaped with a slight flare of his nostrils. “My pleasure.”

  An instant later he filled her up with three fingers, turning them up to stroke the sinful spot at the top with every retreat. The pleasure flared deep in her center. He’d kept her primed so long it took less than thirty seconds before she crested the swell. Her breaths turned to pants, her hands clawed at his strong shoulders, needing to ground herself as her body threatened to fly apart.

  Her eyes had squeezed shut and she couldn’t hear much over her own sounds, but she thought she heard him growl a “fucking beautiful” right before placing his mouth on her clit and sucking it in pulses that finally and blessedly gave her sweet release.

  Jackson kissed his way up her body. With each sensual touch of his lips, she came back to herself a little more. By the time he reached her neck, she was fully aware again and somehow just as hungry for him as when they started.

  Grabbing him by his head, she brought his mouth up and lifted her head to attack it. He met her urgency, moaning as she boldly licked his lips then bit down on the plump center. They fused together in a molten kiss, their tongues warring against each other. She tasted her sweet tang and the reminder of how her essence came to be there released another wave of warmth between her legs.

  Jackson started to pull away from her, but she followed him, not wanting to release him from the kiss. He smiled against her lips, obviously enjoying her desperation to keep their connection. It should’ve tripped her defenses, prompting her to wrap herself in indifference and show him just how unaffected she was. But it didn’t. He’d triggered something in her, uncovered a hunger she hadn’t known she had. And now she no longer cared if he knew just how much she wanted him.

  Once she sat all the way up, he held her shoulders to prevent her from following him as he stood. She looked up at him, mesmerized by his dominating presence and his sculpted physique. Being a fighter definitely gave him muscles she wasn’t used to from the businessmen she usually dated.

  He took out a condom from his back pocket and tossed it carelessly next to her on the couch. “Take my shorts off, V,” he ordered gruffly.

  She’d do as he said and take them off. But he hadn’t specified how to take them off. Vanessa schooled her features to hold back the smirk that itched to flaunt her thoughts, then she placed her hands on his pecs. Moving them down his body, she reveled in the way her fingers undulated over the ripples of his abs and the deep V of his obliques slashing to the center of his body and her ultimate destination.

  He arched his scarred eyebrow as she skirted her hands past the elastic of his shorts. No doubt he’d expected her to catch the waistband and do as he’d instructed. And she would. Eventually.

  They continued down either side of his straining cock, her thumbs just barely brushing the sides. He sucked a sharp inhale through his teeth and narrowed his eyes at her. It hadn’t been a huge reaction, but even that little bit of control gave her a heady rush. He hadn’t stopped her yet, but she could see the warning on the tip of his tongue.

  Using her teeth, she pulled his shorts down a couple inches on both sides, then pulled the center out and down, dragging the material over his erection and causing a delicious moan to escape his chest. Once they fell to the floor and he kicked them to the side, she was left staring eye-level at an impressive display of virility.

  Their quick yet explosive session the night before had been all about feeling, not seeing. But now she looked her fill. She’d known by the feel of him that he wasn’t a small man in any sense of the word, but she was surprised at just how not small he was. As she touched him, she discreetly gauged his size with her fingers. From root to tip, he spanned the length of her thumb and forefinger, and when she gripped him, her fingers barely touched. Well, hello there, big boy.

  “I fit once already, V. I can do it again.”

  She’d been so lost in her own thoughts, his comment startled her. Glancing up at him, she huffed, “I know that.”

  He slid one of his hands into the hair at her nape and gave her a crooked and way-too-knowing smile. “Just wanted to make sure. You looked like maybe you were worried.”

  This man saw way too much with her. Good thing she knew how to distract him. Starting at the base, she kept her tongue loose so it hugged the underside of his cock and licked a slow, wet path all the way to the smooth cap at the top. His fingers contracted, fisting her hair, and his hips bucked.

  She smiled, letting her satisfaction show on her face. “I may be smaller than you, but I can take anything you give me.”

  “I’m so holding you to that.”

  He let loose an animalistic growl, picked her up, and switched their positions so she once again straddled him on the couch. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his, obliterating the space between them. Following suit, Jackson’s arms banded around her waist as he finally latched onto the breast that had started the whole series of events.

  The feel of him drawing her deep into his mouth sent showers of sparks riding her skin and heating her blood. Her body bowed, her head dropping back until the ends of her hair tickled the base of her spine. He leaned over, their bodies melding from hips to ribs as he worshipped both of her breasts with his lips, his tongue, his teeth.

  Unable to hold back any longer, she rocked her pelvis to cradle his cock between the slick folds of her sex. He groaned. She moaned. And they both reached for the condom next to them at the same time.

  “Reading my mind, V?”

  “I doubt it’s your mind I’m reading, Maris,” she said, scooting back a few inches.

  “Probably right about that.”

  He tore the wrapper, but she took the latex ring from him before he had a chance to do anything. Despite her body’s urges, she moved slowly, using both hands to encircle his thick shaft and roll it down to the base. Jackson sucked in a breath when she let her thumbs graze his tight sac underneath.

  Then he loosed his caged beast.

  Strong fingers dug into the flesh of her ass as he lifted her up and positioned the head of his cock at her swollen entrance. Between her tightness from already climaxing and his sheer size, Vanessa had a split second of panic that he’d never fit.

  “Yes, I will,” he rasped. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m burying myself in this sweet pussy.” Oh, God, had she said that aloud? “Ease yourself down, baby. You can take me.”

  Jax reached between them and rubbed over her clit. She gasped as more wetness trailed down the inside of her thighs. It didn’t matter if she believed him or not anymore. There was no way anything could take the place of holding him inside her. She needed it like she needed air. He’d been right the night before when he said no vibrator would ever be able to pleasure her more than him. Hell, she had a suspicion no other man would be able to, either. But for her sanity’s sake, she couldn’t let herself go down that road.
Not now. Not ever.

  She spread her knees a little at a time, slowly impaling herself. Down a couple of inches, then back up. Down an inch or so more, then back up. As he stretched her more and more, her insides tightened and her breaths shortened. Finally, she grabbed onto his shoulders for purchase and took him in to the hilt.

  Pressing his forehead to her sternum he ground out, “Ah, fuck. Hold still, baby. Gimme a sec.”

  But holding still was the very last thing she wanted. She wanted to move. Needed to move. So she did.

  Vanessa circled her hips once before pushing up, almost completely unseating herself. Jax made a sound like he’d just gotten kicked in the gut. His eyes snapped up to warn her. A warning she couldn’t heed.

  She began to move, up and down, back and forth, combinations of the four that she wasn’t even sure were legit moves, but they felt so good with him she let instinct take over.

  Suddenly, she heard a loud smack! a split second before she felt the sting on her left ass cheek. She gasped over a squeal and jerked up hard from the shock. But he’d apparently been ready for that and held her in place to prevent an escape.

  “What in holy hell was that for?” she demanded, leaning back all of the three inches he allowed her and trying to ignore how the pain melted into a warm heat between her legs.

  “What, that?” A wicked gleam appeared in his eye as his hand now rubbed the sore area in a soothing manner. “That was the first of several punishments I owe you, princess.”

  She thought back to the several instances he’d warned her of punishments. Shit, how many were there? She couldn’t remember. But she’d bet her lingerie collection he remembered every one of them in detail. What she did remember was that her mouth, or sarcastic comments, had always been the trigger. Which was why she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why she wasn’t careful to temper the sarcastic tone in her response.

  “So what, now you want to break out the whips and floggers, is that it?”

  His hands roved over her back, her sides, her breasts. The roughness of his fingers and palms ignited her skin and reminded her body of where they left off seconds ago. As if it needed reminding.

  “No, I’m not into the hardcore stuff. Besides,” he said with a quick nip on her clavicle. “All I need to make your ass red and your pussy wet are my voice and my hands.”

  And with that she received a crack on the other side, causing an identical reaction to the first.

  Vanessa mentally counted to ten while her insides stopped vibrating, then prayed her voice didn’t sound just as shaky. “I don’t like it.”

  She lied.

  He licked the shell of her ear. “You lie.”

  She did.

  “Now move, V,” he ordered with a squeeze of his hands. “Ride me and I’ll show you just how good a punishment can feel.”

  With a shudder racing down her spine, she let her lids drift shut and she began to move once again. Her mind dulled, her conscious thoughts fading fast in the wake of her body’s more potent visceral demands.

  Vanessa had never felt so torn during sex before. Jackson made her feel lost and found all at once. Lost to the intense desire he incited within her. Found, as though there was no other place she belonged more than in his arms. And both feelings scared the ever-loving hell out of her.

  It would be so easy to ignore the facts and blame it on the alcohol. But even with the booze-induced carnage surrounding them as evidence, she couldn’t make that argument stick. No, this…whatever it was, made no sense on any logical plane of existence. It just wasn’t possible to have such strong, passionate feelings for a man she barely even liked. A man who made her want to throttle him as soon as kiss him.

  Kiss him. Excellent idea.

  Grabbing the sides of his face, she attacked his mouth, plunging her tongue past his lips to lick and twirl and drink in the taste of salt, lime, and Patron. This was a true body shot, and one for which she’d gladly suffer any mental hangovers she might incur.

  He met her urgency ounce for ounce and then poured a hell of a lot more on for good measure. The kiss became a devouring. Their hands groped and clawed and tugged. It was fast and hard and utterly amazing. The tingling vibrations gathered in her center, pulsing their way up in quick succession like her climax was gasping for breath.

  Somewhere in the physical din, she knew Jax continued to slap her ass every ten seconds or so, but she couldn’t separate the sensual stings from the rest of the pleasure coursing through her. Every taste, every touch had woven together to create one exquisite sensation.

  “Fuck, you feel so good on my cock, baby.” Jax let his head fall back on the couch. The tendons in his neck stood out and the muscles jumped above his jaw. “So. Fucking. Good.”

  She wanted to let him know how amazing it felt to be stretched and filled by him, but words failed her. All she could do was ride the massive wave hurtling her toward her release merely seconds away…

  “V.”

  What? Great. Now her voice had failed her, too.

  “Vanessa,” he said, this time with a little more force. “I’m not giving you permission to come yet.”

  The blurred edges of her vision came into sharp relief as her eyes widened. He couldn’t be serious.

  “Prove to me how strong you are,” he continued as he plunged his fingers into her hair and held her face close to his. “Not by taking what you want, but by holding yourself back from the very thing you want the most.”

  Her movements had decreased to shallow pulses, leaving the majority of her empty and aching. She swallowed hard, trying to create moisture where a desert had taken up residence. “Jax, please…”

  “I’m not asking you to beg this time, baby.” His thumb caressed the edge of her lower lip. “You’re in the position to do what you want; I won’t stop you. But I want you to feel what it’s like to own your submission. To choose it.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  Disappointment flashed in his hazelnut eyes, and then it was gone as though it never was. In a firm tone he answered, “Then I’ll take back my condition from last night. We’ll finish out our fling without the control stipulation.”

  Clever man. Before, she’d told herself she agreed to his condition because she wanted the fling, even knowing it was merely a convenient veil to hide her taboo curiosity behind.

  But now he’d given her the option to choose how they proceeded from this point on, forcing her to admit her desire to submit to his will…or choke on her pride and miss the opportunity to explore a side of her she’d never known existed until him.

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  He gripped her hips hard, his fingers sinking into the meat of her ass, and held her still. “Okay what, Vanessa? What does that mean?”

  Taking a deep breath, she clasped her hands behind her back. She wasn’t sure what protocol was in this situation, but it seemed like the right gesture to support her words. “I want to give myself”—she dropped her gaze to his chest, the deference seeming both a betrayal to herself as well as an awakening—“and my orgasms over to you.”

  A quiet growl rippled from his chest and over hers, puckering her nipples. He must have noticed, too, because he brought his hands up to cup her curves and swipe his thumbs over the sensitive nubs, causing her to jolt.

  “I can’t lie, V. Those were the sexiest words I’ve ever heard. And the way you look right now—hands behind your back, pressing these beautiful breasts toward me, lips red and swollen, eyes downcast and ready for instruction.” He gave her nipples a light pinch, causing her to jerk from the bolt of sheer pleasure. “It’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen. You just might be my undoing.”

  Before she could ask him what he meant by that, he thrust up in one smooth motion, burying himself balls deep before ordering her to finish what she’d started. She wasted no time, easily finding her rhythm and the angle that allowed him to hit that glorious spot inside. When her hands came up to his arms, he circled her wrists and h
eld them behind her again as she rode him to the edge of her climax.

  “Jax?” she whimpered.

  “Not yet,” he rasped.

  She ground her teeth together as sweat ran in rivulets from her temples and between her breasts. Holding herself on the sharp precipice of an orgasm was a sweet anguish she’d never be able to describe. How could something so torturous feel so totally amazing? Maybe this was like the sexual version of the Stockholm Syndrome, and Vanessa would find herself needing and loving the pleasure/pain only he could give her.

  A minute longer and she’d die, no doubt in her mind. Thankfully, Jax must have felt the same way, because he spoke the words that released her at last. “Now, baby,” he said against her neck. “Let go with me now.”

  And so she did, praying he’d hold onto her tight enough to prevent the cracks he’d made from breaking her wall into a million pieces.

  …

  Swaying gently in the hammock with Vanessa tucked under his arm, the soothing sounds of the ocean waves in the distance and the stars shining overhead, Jackson felt more at peace than he remembered being in the last decade.

  Oh, he’d been content. Happy, even. But underneath all that had always been a sense of unease with himself. The mystery of who his real parents were—of who he was—had weighed on him since the day he found those papers and learned he’d been living a lie.

  But something about Vanessa quieted the fray of unanswered questions inside him. The way she curled into him with her leg intertwined in his and her hand resting over his heart was surprisingly comforting. Not at all stifling like usual after he’d been with a woman. Not that he was the type to cut and run right after sex, but he liked his space in bed and wasn’t much for cuddling in the afterglow.

  However, tonight he’d gathered her up in his arms, grabbed the sheet from the bed, and settled them into the hammock with the bed sheet around them just enough to cover their nakedness.

  Jax kissed the top of her head and continued stroking her arm with his fingers as he thought of his newest revelations about his faux fiancée.

  The sex had been mind-blowing, to say the least. He’d had a taste of her last night, but it hadn’t prepared him for what she’d be like completely unbridled. Passionate didn’t even begin to describe her. It was like she’d been lit on fire from the inside, desperate for something—or someone—to put out the flames before they consumed her.