What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 4)

by Selena Kitt

  “More. Jax … please.”

  A deep growl erupted from his lips. “Need to see you this time. All of you.” He released her wrists and stripped her with quick efficiency. No gentle slide of clothing. No slow reveal. No brush of fingers over her heated skin. Within moments, she was naked, stretched out on the soft vinyl mat, the cool air whispering over her body, bared for his pleasure.

  His gaze raked over her, and then he exhaled a long, sensual breath. “So beautiful.” He cupped her breasts in his warm hands and squeezed gently before dragging his thumbs over her nipples, circling them until they peaked.

  Marcy’s thoughts scattered. Fevered with desire, she arched into him, offering herself up for his pleasure. Jax bent down and captured her left nipple, grating his teeth back and forth.

  “Oh, yes.” She hissed out a breath.

  With a wicked smile, he released her, chuckling when she moaned her displeasure.

  “My little fighter’s a bad girl.” He abandoned her breasts for a slow, leisurely torture of her body, alternating between soft, warm kisses and small, sharp nips that left her gasping for air.

  When he reached her mound, he paused and feathered his fingers lightly over her heated skin. “Bare.”

  Marcy swallowed past the lump in her throat. Some men didn’t like their women bare. Her first serious boyfriend hadn’t touched her for weeks after her first Brazilian, his lips curling in distaste when he saw what she’d done.

  “It’s easier when I’m fighting.” She gave an apologetic shrug.

  Jax smiled and pressed a kiss to her mound, his lips soft and warm on her skin. “Beautiful.”

  Then, as if he couldn’t bear to be clothed, he pushed himself away, stripping off his jeans and his shirt with the same quick efficiency he had used to undress her before tossing them into a heap on the mat.

  Although she had seen him wearing nothing but fight shorts, it wasn’t until that moment that she was able to fully appreciate the raw beauty of his lean, muscular body—over six feet of sheer masculine power. Her gaze followed the ridges of muscle over his narrow hips to his cock, hot and heavy, jutting from a dark nest of curls, the thick head pink and swollen. A drop of moisture glistened at the tip. She licked her lips, imagining how he would taste.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll get ideas that’ll result in a rapid end to this encounter.”

  A smile curled her lips. “Next time then.”

  Kneeling between her parted legs, he feathered kisses over her breasts and her abdomen, the gentle brush of his lips making her tremble with need. But when he skipped over the curve of her sex and nipped the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, she gritted her teeth in frustration. Threading her fingers through his hair, she tugged him up to where she wanted him to go.

  “No.” His deep, commanding tone froze her in an instant. She felt the rush of forbidden desire coiling deep in her belly, and a soft moan escaped her lips.

  Jax sat up and studied her so intently she instinctively dropped her gaze. When she lifted her head again, the look he gave her, carnal, warning, seared her to the core.

  “Hands over your head.”

  She complied without thinking, and he grasped her wrists, locking them together, tugging them higher until her body arched, offering her breasts up for his licking pleasure.

  “I know what you need.” He sucked and bit one nipple then the other as his free hand slid between her thighs to cup her sex, his warm palm pressing against her clit. She inhaled a ragged breath at his possessive touch.

  “You want the freedom of submission, but you’re afraid to give up control. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s a need you buried, and it’s resurfaced in the ring.”

  She shook her head as the feelings of shame she’d carried with her since Preston’s abrupt departure washed over her, dimming her arousal. “I’m not submissive. I’m a fighter. Always have been. It’s like you said … I just need it … rough.”

  “You need more than that.”

  Her thoughts shattered as his fingers slid through her folds, teasing her with the heat of his hand against her throbbing flesh.

  “Some needs aren’t meant to be denied.” He thrust a thick finger deep inside her pussy, and her hips came off the mat.

  “Yes.” She whispered her confession, her voice thin and raw with desire and a filament of fear. Just like that, he’d ripped away the veil and peered into her soul. But instead of recoiling as Preston had done, he accepted … understood.

  Tightening his grip on her wrists, he eased a second finger inside her, stretching her as he stroked against her sensitive inner walls. Marcy writhed around the exquisite intrusion. “Oh god.”

  With a strangled groan, he leaned over and brushed his lips over hers, then kissed her so thoroughly she was in no doubt he wanted her. Nor did she have any doubts about who was in control.

  “If we knew each other better, I would restrain you more securely,” he murmured. “Hands and feet. Spread open for me. Available for my pleasure. But that requires a certain level of trust, and we’re not there yet.”

  A fierce wave of hunger washed over her, and she groaned. Although she ached to be fully restrained, he was right. Only a few hours ago, she hadn’t trusted him at all.

  “Jax.” His name ripped from her throat in a pleading whimper.

  “Don’t worry, little fighter. I’ll take care of you.” He paused, studied her from beneath his lashes, his gaze focused, intent. “Have you played before, Marcy?”

  “Yes,” she said softly, incredulous she was having this conversation. “But not much, and my partners didn’t know what they were doing. They didn’t understand. I went to a fetish club once to learn the basics—safety, techniques—but I didn’t want to play with anyone I didn’t know.”

  “You know me. Do you want to play?” His thumb brushed over her clit, feather light, but enough to make her gasp. Her hips jerked off the floor.

  “Hell, yes.” She writhed under his touch, aroused as much by the knowledge he understood her kink as by the sensations flooding her body.

  “So close, aren’t you?” He touched her cheek gently. “Let’s take you higher.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Over you go.”

  Without warning, Jax flipped Marcy to her stomach and then positioned her on all fours, cheek on the mat, ass in the air. Marcy shuddered as he smoothed his hand over her heated skin. Somehow he could see her deepest desires and was dragging them one by one into the light.

  “Should I spank you, little fighter? Punish you for hitting me?”

  Craving took hold of her, dark and delicious. She sensed his spanking would be nothing like Preston’s pathetic raps on her ass. There would be no wrinkling of the nose or twitching of the lips. No murmured apologies and self-reproach. It would be painful, and it would be real.

  “Yes.”

  He parted her legs with a thick thigh and pressed down on her lower back, holding her in place. “Did you learn about safe words at the club?”

  Marcy forced the words through the lump in her throat. “Red for stop. Yellow to slow down. Green to go ahead.”

  “And now?”

  “Green.” Anticipation ratcheted through her, and shame melted into a need so intense it took her breath away.

  “Have you ever been spanked before?” Jax rubbed deep circles over her ass, bringing the blood to the surface, warming her up. She knew how it was supposed to work, had guided a few adventurous boyfriends and Preston through every step. But Jax clearly didn’t need instruction, and she trembled under his touch, desperate for that first smack—the blow that would tell her if he was everything she had imagined he would be.

  “A few times, but it wasn’t good. Not like how I thought. Like I said, they didn’t know what they were doing.”

  Jax’s hand tightened on her lower back. “Lucky for you, I do.”

  She froze at the first blow, although it was nothing more than a light slap, her body stiffening, her breath leavi
ng in a rush. He gave her a moment to recover, and then he smacked her again. This time on the other cheek. An exquisite pain.

  Yes, yes, yes. So good.

  He set up a steady rhythm, alternating cheeks and quadrants, varying speed and intensity. The room echoed with the crack of his palm on her skin, the rasp of his breath, and her whimpers-turned-cries.

  “Breathe,” he murmured. “Use your safe word if you need me to stop.” But he didn’t slow down, didn’t let up. Not that she wanted him to.

  He smacked harder, and fire streaked across her skin. With each blow, pleasure and pain coalesced into an intoxicating cocktail of desire that sent her mind spinning and made her sex pulse and throb with need. A low, guttural groan ripped from her throat, unwanted, uncontrolled.

  “That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.” He smacked her again and again and again until sensation flooded her brain and she was barely aware of where his hand ended or her body began.

  “Easy.” His deep voice rumbled in her ear, soft and smooth as Two Step’s best bourbon, pulling her back before he slid his fingers through her soaked folds.

  Marcy gasped and tried to jerk away from the unexpected intimate caress, but he held her firmly.

  “You like being spanked, Marcy. You like submitting to my will.” He trailed her wetness along her inner thigh and then released her with a sigh. “I would love to take you further, but not today.”

  As the fog cleared from her mind, she whimpered her displeasure, and Jax laughed. “Still don’t think you’re submissive? I’m not done with you yet, but if I don’t take it slow, I might scare you away. You aren’t the only one with hidden needs, and I don’t think I’ll last.”

  With the skill he used to manipulate her body in the ring, he flipped her over, grasping her wrists with one hand, and tugging her arms up and over her head. He jerked her thighs apart and, without warning, plunged two fingers into her pussy, slick and swollen with need.

  “Oh god.” She tilted her hips and ground against him, pulling against his firm grip as her heels dug into the mat. His thumb pressed down on her clit, and pleasure became pain, driving her arousal higher.

  “Oh. Oh. Jax.”

  And then his mouth, hot and wet, clamped over her nipple, and he bit down gently. His fingers surged deep, rubbing along her sensitive inner walls until she was bucking and jerking against him.

  Too much. Too intense. Her body arced upward, tight as a bowstring as sensation reverberated through her, the lingering burn on her ass only fueling her desire.

  “That’s it,” Jax murmured. “Let go, little fighter. Give it up. Yield to me.”

  He felt the moment she let go, groaned as she came apart in his hands.

  Cock throbbing, he drew out her pleasure, stroking along her inner walls as her sex pulsed around him, her moisture trickling over his wrist. So fucking wet.

  He’d never seen anything so arousing. Never wanted anything as badly as he wanted to be inside her. Ever.

  Finally, she sighed and softened, quivered beneath him. Gently, he withdrew his fingers and scrambled to find his jeans. In a moment, he had retrieved the condom from his wallet and sheathed himself.

  His gaze raked over her beautiful body as he knelt between her parted legs. Her arms were loose above her head, thighs soft, open. Her pussy, pink and swollen, glistened, beckoned.

  She lifted heavy eyes to his and whispered, “I need you.”

  God, this woman was made for him. Naturally, beautifully submissive. A perfect match for his dominant nature.

  “Please, Jax. Don’t make me wait.” She parted her creamy thighs, and his control shattered. Within a heartbeat, his cock was pressed against her slick entrance. She whimpered, tilting her hips, an invitation he couldn’t refuse.

  With a low, guttural groan, Jax moved over her, covering her with his body, and sank into her hot, wet channel. Marcy gasped and arched, pushing against him. Christ. He couldn’t hold out. His hips bucked, and he thrust and withdrew, driving into her slick, moist heat over and over again. When he felt her pussy quiver and tighten, he slid his hand between them and pinched her clit. “Come for me, little fighter.”

  She climaxed with a shriek, her body shaking, trembling violently beneath him.

  Too much. Too beautiful. “Fuck.” He hammered into her, his cock thickening, engorging, until finally his spine tingled, and pleasure erupted from his body in long, hot, heated jerks.

  He collapsed, his chest pressed tight against her breasts. When the fog began to lift from his brain, he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, eliciting a tiny shudder from her body.

  God. He wanted her all over again.

  Fuck. What the hell had he done? He’d resolved this morning to keep it professional, and his resolve had lasted barely twelve hours.

  He pulled away and disposed of the condom. When he returned, Marcy was curled up against the wall, a first aid blanket wrapped around her. Her hair had come free from her ponytail and fanned over her shoulders in a silken, chestnut wave. Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen. So lovely he ached.

  A frown creased her brow, and she bit her lip. “Is something wrong?”

  When he didn’t answer, she bunched the blanket in her fist and stared at the mat. “You’re going to stop training me, aren’t you?”

  Yes. But he couldn’t say the word out loud. Before their encounter last night, he’d had some small doubt about her submissive nature. Now, he had none. And what she needed now was comfort and reassurance. Not the raw, brutal truth of regret.

  “We’ll find a way around the training issue.” He cringed at the meaningless platitude. No doubt Reid would be able to find a new coach, but then what? Jax lived on the road, travelling from club to club, never staying for more than a few months in one place. No attachments. No commitments.

  No relationships.

  No loss.

  On some level, he’d thought that sex with Marcy would quench the fire that burned within him whenever she was near. But he’d been wrong. Taking her, discovering they shared similar interests, a similar kink, had only made him want her more.

  He should have let her walk away.

  “You think I’m sexually submissive,” she murmured against his chest.

  He brushed his finger under her chin and tilted her head back until she met his gaze. “I know you are.”

  “If I am, what does that make you?”

  “I like to be in control.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “Especially when I’m dealing with a fighter who lacks restraint.”

  “You seemed to restrain me just fine.” Her eyes softened, and her body melted into him.

  Jax’s voice thickened as his imagination ran wild. “I’d like to do a lot more than just restrain you with my hand.”

  She shuddered in his arms, and her cheeks flamed. “I’d like that, too.”

  Jax pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Why does it embarrass you? You shouldn’t be ashamed of your kink. There are lots of people out there with the same needs. Lots of people who can give you what you want.”

  She rested her cheek against his chest. “I’ve always had fantasies, dark fantasies. When I first started dating, I hid them away. But the more I dated, the harder it became to hide them. I asked my boyfriends to restrain me or spank me, and sometimes even use a flogger. And they tried. Lord, they tried. They wanted to please me. But it wasn’t the same. They weren’t into it. They didn’t understand there is more to it than just the physical act. And although you say there are lots of people like us out there, I couldn’t find them.”

  He stroked his hand down her hair. “They are out there. You just need to know where to look.”

  She drew in a ragged breath and then stiffened in his arms. “I had a serious boyfriend in college. Preston. He was smart, witty, charming, good-looking. We shared the same taste in friends and music. We had fun together. But he was very straight in bed, so I locked away those fantasies and pretended I didn’t have those needs.”

  Jax rubbed
his hand up and down her back. He knew what it was like to hide his darkest desires. His family epitomized the word “uptight,” but after he’d left home and stumbled on the kink scene, he’d never had to hide again.

  “Then one night we went to a party,” she said softly. “I don’t think he knew what kind of party it was. But in every room in that house, people were acting out the very things I had imagined. It made me so … hot.” She stumbled over the word and buried her face in his chest. “I don’t think I had ever been so aroused. We left right away, of course. But when we got home, I told Preston what I’d been hiding. And because he wanted to make me happy, he tried. That night, he tried everything I asked. But in the morning when he woke up…” She choked back a sob, and Jax tightened his arms around her.

  “Shhh, little fighter.”

  Marcy took a deep breath. “He looked at me with such disgust. He told me I was perverted and sick and that I’d corrupted him. And then he left, and I never heard from him again.”

  Anger flared through him, and he bit back a growl. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Marcy. We all have needs. Different needs. People who would judge you for them aren’t worth your time. You shouldn’t be ashamed of who you are. And if you want to find people who share your interests, the kink scene would welcome you with open arms.”

  “I don’t need a kink scene,” she said. “Just someone who understands me and accepts me for who I am.”

  “Fuck, Marcy. You have to focus.”

  Marcy bit her lip and slid off Jax’s chest. The last hour had been the most grueling training session of her entire career. Jax had gone from patient and understanding to abrupt and temperamental—angry, even—in the space of a night and a day.

  She should have guessed something was up after their encounter. Although he’d been attentive and courteous after they’d locked up the gym, he’d been distant as he walked her to her car, giving her only a perfunctory kiss on the cheek before saying good-bye. She’d been up most of the night wondering what she’d said that had made him withdraw. Had she pushed too far? Opened herself up too much? Had her candor scared him away? Maybe he’d thought she wanted more than a casual affair, and since he was leaving in a couple of weeks, he needed to put some distance between them. Make sure she understood it was sex and nothing more.