Phoenix (Flames & Ashes Book 1)

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Phoenix (Flames & Ashes Book 1) Page 27

by Carolyn Anthony


  As soon as my arms locked around him, he pressed my back against the wall and dropped me down enough so he could rub the head of his cock through my slippery lips, teasing my clit with his silky tip. He braced his hands against the wall under my legs and unhurriedly entered me, every inch stretching my swollen channel.

  I pushed my forehead against his as we both watched his thick shaft fight its way inside my body.

  “Best fuckin’ sight I’ve ever seen,” he growled.

  I bit the insides of my lips, keeping them pressed together as he penetrated me inch by painful inch until my resisting body had taken all of him.

  He stayed still for a minute, allowing my body to adjust to him and the position. His cock pulsed against my stinging walls. “Shit, breathe, baby. Breathe for me.”

  When I lifted my head and pushed it back against the wall, his mouth crashed over mine in a punishing kiss. I braced myself by locking my arms tighter around him, his hair falling over my forearms and down around his neck.

  “Too much?” he ground out.

  I gushed out the breath I’d been holding. “Yes—no. Just move, Jaxx. Damn, just m—”

  Before I could finish the sentence, he’d pulled almost all the way out. The emptiness of his exit hit me at once. I didn’t have long to miss him, though, because he thrust right back inside me, long, hard, and smooth.

  “Jesus . . . yes,” I moaned and dropped my hips down.

  He began a steady rhythm of deep strokes, rocking in and out of me to the hilt. I looked down our bodies, watching his length plunge inside me, disappear and reappear wetter than the last time. The way we fit and moved together was vulgar in its primitive beauty. Hard breathing and hungry moans echoed through the house, adding to my frenzied need.

  At this angle, his pelvis hit my exposed, swollen clit with every thrust. I gasped with each hard drive of his cock. Every time he filled me, my body stretched farther, ached more. A paradox of the sweetest pain and the most overwhelming pleasure consumed me.

  “Christ! Four days is too long without fucking you,” he rasped and began to move faster. With every penetration, he hit deeper inside me. “Mine, Valentina. Your pussy’s mine.” Harder and harder, he drove inside me. “Nobody but me. Say it,” he demanded through clenched teeth.

  If the furious pace and the constant pressure against my clit hadn’t already held me on the precipice of orgasm, the words pushed me over. “Yes,” I cried. “You—I only want you.”

  As my channel pulsed around his thickness, he slowed down, but moved inside me harder. The muscles in his forearms flexed as he pushed against the wall, holding me still and thrusting through my orgasm, through my walls clenching around him so tight it had to hurt him. He surged up one last time before taking my mouth in a hungry kiss. I swallowed his groan and stroked my tongue against his, my hands holding his face to mine, not allowing him to pull away.

  When the kisses turned to tender caresses and gentle licks, he yanked me up higher, and gripped my bare ass as he moved backwards against the opposite wall. He slid down ending up on the floor with me in his lap, still deep inside me. He enfolded me in a strong embrace and I fastened my arms around his shoulders, burying my face in his neck.

  After a long while, he moved me back and looped my wild hair over my ears before kissing my neck. “Now that’s the way to come back from a business trip. Better?”

  I rested my hands on his shoulders. “Yes,” I admitted. “I’m sorry.”

  He caressed both cheeks with his thumbs. “Don’t apologize. Tell me what happened.”

  I sat in his lap staring at him. “Did you mean what you said?”

  Bringing my forehead to his, he cleared his throat. “Yeah. I did. I don’t want you with anyone else—not while we are whatever it is we are. I don’t share.”

  A shot of adrenaline ricocheted through my body, thinking nothing in the world would be better than belonging only to this man, but logic chose that moment to kick in. “You’re going to get tired of me, of this, Jaxx.”

  The hands on my face moved into my hair. He raised my head until we were eye to eye. “Don’t tell me what I’m gonna feel, Valentina. Don’t. It pisses me off. Tell me instead why you’d think I’d ever get tired of you.”

  My skin stretched as his hands tightened in my hair, the pain giving me courage to talk to him. “The scars—”

  A long spearmint sigh breezed over my face. “We’ve been over—”

  Placing my hands on his chest, I pushed until I had more room. “No, wait. I’m answering your question, Jaxx. The scars . . . the way they got there. It—it was—um—violent. That’s all you need to know about them. That, and they come with repercussions.”

  There was only so much I could give him, and if I wanted anything with him, I had to see if he’d be okay with my limitations, in which case, I had to give as much as I could.

  The intensity of his eyes drilled into mine. He yanked me closer to him. “Violent . . . why can’t you tell me?”

  I laid a hand in the center of his chest. “Jaxx, I’m not ready. That’s the truth.”

  The muscles in his cheek jumped. His breath came out in a deflated huff. “Yeah, all right, baby. At least tell me what kind of repercussions.”

  I let my eyes drift to the side of his face, not wanting to see disappointment. “Nightmares. Flashbacks. Violent night terrors. I have my dogs for more than protection. Chris is trained in protection, but Kyle is a trained PTSD service dog. It’s why he sleeps with me, rarely leaves me, especially at night. Chris is like a soldier. His presence alone helps when they come.”

  “That explains the difference in their demeanors.” The tension in his grip lessened. “But what does that have to do with you thinking I’ll get tired of you?”

  I snapped my eyes to his. “You can never stay overnight. You can never be here when I come out of a—an episode. Is this,” I pointed to my dress bunched between us, “sex with me half covered up, having to leave my bed at two in the damn morning, is that not going to get old?”

  His chest rose and fell a few times before he spoke, “Baby, we’re just starting this. I may have gotten carried away and said something you’re not ready for, but it’s what I want. I’m willing to give us a shot, but I need you on board too. And at some point, you’re going to have to trust me way more than you do now, and I get trust takes time to earn.”

  “Jaxxon . . . It wasn’t too soon, and I am on board.” I pushed his hair behind his shoulders. “Do you not see that? I do trust you, but I’ve been left before because of this . . . situation, and it was my fault. I can give all of me, but there are boundaries I cannot cross.”

  “Won’t.” His voice was soft, but firm. “Boundaries you won’t cross, Valentina. I’m willing to give you time to get to know me, see how I work—the good, the bad, and the real fuckin’ bad. But I’ll only say this once, baby: I. Am. Not. Him. And it was not your fault. His fuck up—not yours.”

  I leaned forward to kiss him. “I know you’re not him. But you have kids. If—if this goes further, they come into play at some point. I’m not jumping the gun. I’m stating a fact you have to consider if you were serious about what you said.”

  His body tensed. “Dead fucking serious, but the one thing you can count on, even if you can’t trust me fully yet . . . I will always put my children first. I know well enough to know you’re good with that. Some women wouldn’t be. I do nothing without considering the consequences on my kids. We’re still working shit out between us, sugar. Unless we’re on a path to something stable, you won’t meet my children.” He ran a finger over my bottom lip.

  I smiled and took his finger into my mouth, running my tongue over it before pulling it out. “To be honest, if you suggested such a thing in the near future, I’d say no for that very reason. Children work better with stability.”

  “Then we understand each other.” He wrapped a hand around my nape and pulled my head to his shoulder. “I’m good with slow, but don’t ever tell me what I
’m feeling or what I’m gonna feel. I meant what I said. I don’t want you with anyone else. Can we agree on that, at least?”

  I nodded against his shoulder and hugged him tight. “Yes,” I mumbled. “I don’t want anyone but you, and the whole ‘anyone else’ deal goes both ways.”

  “We’re solid, then.” He stroked a hand over my hair and down my back before cupping my ass, pulling me against him.

  I leaned back once again and searched his face. “Thank you.”

  A grin spread across his mouth. “What are you thanking me for—fucking you against a wall? My pleasure. Any-fuckin’- time.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “No. I mean, yes, thank you, it was . . . ah, lovely.”

  He laughed, the husky sound making his chest muscles jump.

  “But I didn’t mean the sex. I meant something else.”

  “Alright, if you weren’t thanking me for the wall, what are you thanking me for?” He sat up straight and bent his head to my neck. His lips smoothed up and down the column of my throat. Grabbing my ass with both hands, he locked me against him, skin on skin, no space.

  I let my head fall back, giving him more access and spoke up toward the ceiling. “You never use your strength against me,” I managed to choke out.

  All movement stopped. He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back. The look on his face went straight to my heart. The most hated emotion I’d encountered with people was sympathy. While I could read sympathy, Jaxx didn’t know my past, and yet there was something else there too, something more . . . violent, and maybe that was why I didn’t pull away from him.

  He stared at me a long time before speaking. When the tension in his grip eased, he dropped his eyes to my lips. “I’d never do that to you or any woman, and I’d kill any man who laid hands on someone I care about.”

  I smiled at him, trying to ease some of the rage I felt pulsing just under his skin. “I know you would. You’re very aware of your strength, you’re conscious of it. Other men aren’t.”

  His gaze turned to stone. “The fact you know the difference, Valentina, is not lost on me. Why would you say that to me, though?”

  I didn’t know how to explain it without upsetting him further. “I didn’t mean to upset you—I mean . . . ”

  His hands landed hard on mine, which had been scratching at my forearms. “Don’t edit, tell me.”

  “During . . . sex.” I forced myself to hold eye contact with him. “I can feel you stop yourself the few times we’ve been together. You’re aware of me—you care. You’re holding back, and you’re doing it for me.”

  He shook his head and bunched both hands in my hair. “Were you not present about twenty minutes ago when I couldn’t wait long enough to get you into a bed and opted instead for the entryway? Did you miss me going down on you on a fuckin’ table before burying myself so deep inside you I could argue we were one fucking person?”

  All the heat in my body swarmed to my face. “No. I mean, yes. I was there, obviously, I’m just saying.”

  “I want you. All the time.” His voice was soft as he pulled me to him, our lips barely touching. “I can’t be around you without wanting to be buried inside you. Don’t doubt me and don’t worry about me. My needs are pretty fuckin’ met. You’ll be the first to know if they aren’t.”

  “Jaxx . . . I’ve heard something similar before, you can understand my reservations, right?”

  He yanked me to him and took my mouth in a scorching kiss before breaking it off clean. He held me still in front of him. “A boy said something similar. Not a man. Are we clear?”

  I nodded, running my fingers through his hair. “Okay.”

  “Say the words so I know you understand me. I get it’s been four fuckin’ years, but you will not compare me to that asshole.”

  “Yes, I understand. And there is no comparison, Jaxx. None.”

  He wrapped me up in those mammoth arms and held me for a long time. His chest rose as he inhaled long and deep. “Is that curry I smell?”

  I giggled. “Yes. So what? You’re starving now?”

  His deep laugh rumbled through him. “Baby, I was starving when I got off the plane. I’m famished now. Let’s eat.”

  I sat up and glanced down at where we were still connected. “Ah . . . okay, but . . . ”

  He nodded to his discarded wife-beater. “Hand me my tank.”

  When I moved, he grabbed my hips. “Easy, baby, easy,” he grunted.

  “Sorry.” I leaned slow and pulled the tank to me, dropping it between our bodies.

  “Lift up, sugar.”

  I gently lifted up off him and he pushed the shirt between my legs, cleaning me up first. The realization of what we’d just done in my entryway, on my small table, slammed into me. I crawled off of him as gracefully as I could and fixed the straps of my dress.

  He chuckled as he wiped himself off. “Don’t get embarrassed on me now. You have about five other rooms in this house, and I plan on devirginizing them all. Get used to this.”

  Laughing, I stood up and offered him both hands. It took all my remaining strength to pull him up off that floor. When he was standing, he hugged me to him and kissed the top of my head before zipping up his pants. “Would it be too much to ask for you to heat whatever you’ve got going on in there while I clean up?”

  “Use my bathroom. I’ll use the guest bathroom and meet you in the dining room in five.”

  He smirked down at me. “You know that blush covers your whole body when you’re really worked up.”

  I rolled my eyes as I walked past him. “Yes, I’m aware. Thank you for pointing that out.”

  He grabbed my wrist, forcing me to turn to him. “You okay?”

  Pulling his open hand to my mouth, I kissed the center of his palm. “More than okay. Go clean up.”

  He winked and disappeared down my hallway.

  I watched until he was no longer in sight and exhaled. There was something between us, and he felt it too. I didn’t know how long it would last, but I knew it took a lot for him to open up to me. Out of respect for what we’d both been through, I vowed not to let my shit derail this and just . . . live.

  32

  Jaxxon

  Rothchild’s Steakhouse was packed when my dad and I walked in, which was odd for a Thursday evening. It had taken some convincing to get Valentina to agree to meet my dad, who was in town for the next few months. I’d casually laid it on her earlier today, knowing if I gave her too much time to decide, she’d overthink it to death. She argued it was too soon to meet someone from my family, but I convinced her that Dad was mellow and it would be no big deal.

  The crowded restaurant, however, was another issue entirely. I was vaulting her out of her comfort zone.

  The waitress sat us at a larger table, the only one available on such a busy night.

  My dad let out a long, contented sigh as he sat down and ordered a bourbon from the waitress. Pops looked tired. “Now this is what I miss about California. We’ve got shit steakhouses back home.”

  I ordered three waters and took a seat across from him. “I think you’ve hit all the steakhouses we have. How was the flight?”

  “Flying’s flying.” Dad cocked his head and nodded to the third glass of water. “You expecting someone?”

  I relaxed into the seat. “Yeah, I am. Last minute kind of thing. Someone’s meeting us here in about ten minutes.”

  A wicked smile slashed across my father’s face. “Is that right? What’s her name?”

  “Valentina. Valentina Durare. You cool with this?”

  Dad cleared his throat, shook his head, and sat up a little straighter in his seat as the waitress brought our drinks.

  Fucking Dad, he probably hadn’t eaten all goddamn day. “When’s the last time you ate, Pop?”

  Waving a hand in front of him, blowing me off, he took a sip of his drink. “Ahhh, much better. Lunch. Should have grabbed something on my way out of the airport. And of course, I’m okay with her joining us. So you’r
e finally dating.” He set the drink down and glanced at me before looking toward the front of the restaurant. “Where’d you meet her?”

  I shook my head and grinned. “Not like I haven’t been dating.”

  Dad narrowed his eyes at me. “One-night stands, fuck-friends, whatever you all call them, aren’t dating. I’m taking it this is a little more than that, since I’m meeting her.”

  “I think might be. Still early. And it’s fuck-buddies, Pop. Fuck-buddies.” I laughed.

  “All bullshit.” Dad leaned his elbows on the table. “How serious is it?”

  “Not sure. There’s something about her. She’s got her shit together. Fucking three black belts in jiu-jitsu, about to test for the black in Krav Maga, she’s some kind of protégée editor for a big publishing house here, and she teaches self-defense to kids on the weekends.” I shook my head. “I swore I wouldn’t catch feelings for anyone for a long ass time after the divorce, but I can’t get her out of my system. This wasn’t the plan.”

  Raising a glass to me, Pops smirked. “It never is. Has she met my grandchildren yet?”

  “What? Nah. Way too soon.” I checked my watch. She was probably on her way. She had Krav Maga practice and then ran home to get ready. Her latest text said she was about to leave the house.

  “How’s she feel about that?” Dad asked.

  Odd question coming from my overprotective father, especially when it came to the grandkids. “My kids come first. She understands that. She’s the one who brought it up,” I scoffed, “and she pretty much told me she’d say no if I’d suggested she meet them this soon.”

  Dad swished his drink around in the glass, smiling into it. “She’s a strong girl.”

  He said the words with reverence, which had me turning to him. “Woman, Pop. And why would you say—”

  “Hello, brother. Keeping Dad all to yourself, are you?”

  I jerked my chair around at my older sister’s voice and was greeted not just by Bridgette, but Elle. Goddamn Dad. I turned back to my father.

 

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