The ensuing swift intake of breath told her she’d hit the mark.
Stopping at the window, she turned to face him, popping the button and lowering the zip of her pants as she did so to reveal the flat plane of her lower abdomen and the tattoo inked there.
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Well?”
Once again, Jax’s nostril flared. “When did you get the tat?”
She shrugged. She’d gotten it the morning of the day he’d left with her AC/DC album, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. Nor was she going to tell him the reason for the five music notes. That reason no longer existed. “A while ago,” she said instead, striving for enigmatic seduction.
Returning his stare to her face, with a hungry linger on her lace-cupped breasts, Jax began walking toward her once more. “I like it.”
She let out a husky, mocking chuckle. “I’m so glad.”
Stopping but an inch in front of her, he pressed his palms to the window either side of her head. “You do realize you’re playing with fire.”
She affected a puzzled pout, arching her spine enough to brush the curve of her sex against his groin. “What do you mean?”
He drew his head closer to hers, his breath a tickling caress on her lips. “Oh you know exactly what I mean, Boxhead.”
“Don’t call me Boxhead,” she whispered.
“Boxhead, Boxhead, Boxhead,” he murmured, a second before crushing her lips with his.
He ravished her mouth with his tongue. Bit her lip, tortured it with sucking pressure and plundered back into her mouth again, all without removing his hands from the window.
A rush of concentrated lust flowed through Nat, turning the blood in her veins to molten need. She smoothed her hands over his chest, down to his belt buckle.
He chuckled into her mouth and, without warning, broke the kiss and spun her around.
She steadied herself against the window, staring at the view of Sydney Harbour beyond the glass without seeing it. Behind her, his body melding to hers, Jax reached up and cupped her breasts.
She let out a hitching sigh and wriggled her butt to his swollen groin.
In response, he squeezed her breasts and nipped at her flesh, on the sensitive spot where her neck became her shoulder.
“Hmm…” she hummed. “I like that.”
He chuckled again, inching one hand down the flat plane of her belly to the parted opening of her pants. “I know. You also like this.” He slipped his fingers between her pants and the curve of her sex and parted her folds. “I can tell because you are already so wet.”
She shifted her feet, spreading her legs wider. Aching for him to penetrate her.
But he didn’t. Instead, he withdrew his hand and smoothed it over her right butt cheek before giving her arse a tiny slap.
She bit back a wanton gasp, watching him in the reflection of the glass.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, walking backward, his gaze holding hers.
Pussy throbbing, heart pounding, she obeyed his instruction.
And let out a ragged moan when he pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it aside.
Her nipples pinched into twin peaks of impatient want. Her pussy lips prickled with flooding heat.
She stared at him, watched him devoid himself of clothes, hungry for what she saw. Hell, she’d been fooling herself all these years whenever she’d slept with lean, sinewy men. She’d convinced herself that was the type she liked, but really it wasn’t a type she craved, it was just Jax. It had always been Jax. The bastard.
Meeting her gaze in the glass, his lips curled into a lazy grin. “You haven’t commented on my tat yet,” he said, holding out his arms.
She frowned. “Which tat? You’ve got quite a few.”
He did. Ones new to his body since their days together.
“This one,” he said, turning sideways to point at the small tattoo inked above his right butt cheek.
Nat’s heart slammed into her throat. Her lips tingled. Her head roared. There, permanently marked on Jax’s smooth flesh, was the most absurd image she’d ever seen. And one that shattered her sense of reality. A naked woman sat perched on Jax’s butt, her knees bent, her fingers threaded around them, her breasts full, her body lush…a body Nat saw every morning in the mirror in her bathroom. And atop of this woman’s familiar body was a box. A cardboard box. The woman had a cardboard box where her head should be.
A box for a head.
Boxhead.
“Like it?”
She jerked her stare up to his face in the window’s reflection. What did she say? What did she feel?
He grinned. “I take it that’s a—”
She spun to face him and shoved him. Hard. “How dare you?”
He stumbled back a step, laughing. “Hey! I didn’t mean to—”
“Why did you do that?” Christ, she felt sick. Sick and messed up and confused and so fucking touched and horny and…and… “When did you do that?”
His cock showing no signs of growing limp, Jax gave her a wide grin. “You tell me when you got yours done and I’ll tell you when I got mine.”
“Screw you,” she snapped, turning away from him. “God, what was I thinking coming up here? Dreaming up this stupid challenge? I’m not a sex-crazy twenty-year-old anymore. I’m stupid. This is stupid. The whole thing is such a stupid i—”
Jax grabbed her upper arms, spun her to face him and silenced her tirade with a kiss.
Not a wild kiss. Not a cheeky kiss. Not a savagely hungry kiss. But a slow, lingering, deeply tender kiss that turned Nat’s knees to jelly, ignited a thousand fires in her very core and stole her very breath.
“You have never ever been stupid, Natalie,” he murmured against her lips an exquisite moment later, his warm body pressed to hers, his nose brushing the tip of hers. “And you never will be. Now shut up and stop fighting what’s happening, will you?”
Every nerve ending thrumming, her heart a cannon in her ears, Nat let out a ragged breath. “What is happening, Jax?”
“This,” he answered on a whisper, before kissing her again.
It wasn’t an answer. Not really. Nat knew there was more to the word this than she wanted to acknowledge. But she had no strength left to fight the searing need for Jax consuming her.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back, reveling in the velvet kiss of his naked flesh against her bare belly and arms. He walked her backward, his tongue making love to her mouth as they went, his hands roaming her body. When the cool glass of the window pressed her shoulder blades, she let out a tiny whimper, and the sound of willful surrender was captured by Jax’s passionate kiss.
Without releasing her lips, he stripped her of her bra, replacing the lace on her flesh with his palms and fingers. She moaned into his mouth, thrusting her hips to his as she tangled her fingers in his hair. He kneaded her breasts, tweaked her nipples, pinched them, rolled them, all the while grinding his erection against her belly.
Head spinning, blood hot, she tugged his head away, offering her throat to his lips even as she directed him lower.
He dragged his lips down the column of her neck, across her collarbones, down to her right nipple. Drawing the tight peak into his mouth, he sucked hard. Shards of bliss shot through her, sinking into her sex. She gasped, rolling her head to the side, dangerously undone by the pleasure he wrought on her body.
Cupping her breasts in his hands, Jax moved his mouth to her other nipple, feasting on it with equal ferocity. She let out a hitching whine, pressing her thighs together. Her clit ached. Her sex felt thick and full with want.
When Jax lifted his head from her breast, she couldn’t stop her moan of protest.
“Three things are about to happen, Boxhead,” he said, a roughen rasp to his voice. “You’re going to strip yourself naked of your clothes, I’m going to go retrieve a condom from the bathroom and then I’m going to fuck your brains out.”
She swallowed, her breath shallow. “Who’s goi
ng to answer the door if room service knocks?”
He grinned. “They can wait. I can’t. And neither can you.”
“Ego.”
He dragged his thumb over her nipple, smirking as Nat let out a wobbly moan. “Truth. Now hurry up and get undressed. I’ll race you. If I get back with the condom before you’re completely naked, you have to answer the door if room service knocks.”
Nat’s pulse tripped. Her pussy flooded with deviant excitement. “D—”
He turned and sprinted for the door leading into what she assumed was the suite’s bedroom, trailing wicked laughter behind him.
“Fuck.” Nat kicked off her stilettos and yanked at the waistband of her leather pants.
Wriggling her butt, inching the damn things down over her hips, she glanced at the door through which Jax had seconds earlier disappeared.
“What colour rubber do you want?” he called.
“What?” she called back, fighting to get her pants past her thighs. They may look amazing, all snug and shiny on her long legs, but damn, they weren’t easy to get off.
“Condom.” Laughter filled his voice. “What colour do you want? Red? Black? Purple? Fuck me, I’ve got a ribbed and studded one. That’s the one we’re using. See?” He exited the room, grin wide, a small plastic square in his fingers. “It says on the packet ‘For Her Pleasure’.”
Nat’s heart quickened.
He looked at her. “Why aren’t you naked?”
With one last wriggle, Nat kicked her leather pants across the room. “I am now.”
He ran a long look over her, from her toes up to her face. “Good.”
He crossed to where she stood in five long strides, snaked his arms around her waist and hauled her from the floor. “Now,” he murmured as she wrapped her thighs around his hips and her arms around his shoulders. “To the window.”
She laughed.
Chapter Nine
He pressed her to the cool glass. It didn’t matter to Nat anyone with a pair of binoculars in the neighbouring buildings would be able to see her bare butt and back. It only added to the ecstasy of being naked—utterly and completely naked—with Jax once again. It had been too long.
He ravished her throat, her lips, her chin, exploring each with thorough intensity. He nipped and sucked and nibbled his way up to the little dip beneath her ear, down to her collarbone and back up to her lips again. He worshipped her mouth with his tongue.
And all the while, he ground his cock—unsheathed and rock hard—against her folds, taunting her, tormenting her with what was soon to come.
She arched, levering her shoulder blades on the window to rub her pussy harder to his erection. He groaned into her neck and bit at her flesh.
“Yes,” she hissed, dragging her nails across the smooth skin of his back.
He did it again, with more ferocity this time, squeezing her arse cheeks as he did so.
She squirmed in his arms, aching to be stretched and filled by his cock. Her back and shoulder blades slid over the glass behind her, a delicious reminder they were on display to the world.
The thought sent fresh heat to her core and, with another whimper, she unwrapped her legs from around his hips and planted her feet on the floor.
With a chuckle, Jax lifted his head from her throat. “I know what you want.”
He turned her, slowly, until she faced the window. A wet thrill shot through her. Her breath quickened. She stared through the glass at Sydney beyond, checking out the windows of the buildings closest to the Hyatt. Her heart thumped faster. Her nipples grew tight with excruciating pleasure.
“Fuck, you are incredible.”
Jax’s hoarse exclamation drew her gaze to his in the glass’s reflection. He stood slightly behind her, his own naked body visible to anyone who happened to look at their particular window.
Pulse pounding, she smiled. “I know.”
He laughed and then pressed his body to her back, covering her breasts with his hands.
“Put your palms on the glass, Nat.”
She did as he instructed.
He smoothed his chest down her back in a slow, fluid move, trailing a string of kisses along her spine on his way.
She hummed approval, closing her eyes for a brief moment before gazing out the window at the night and its life beyond.
Warm lips traveled the curve of her butt cheeks. He traced the crevice between them with his tongue. Nat rolled her hips backward and shifted her feet, granting him easier access to what he sought.
He took it. Hands moving to her backside, he gently parted her cheeks and licked a slow line from her pussy lips to her anus.
She whimpered, scraping her nails on the glass, flicking her stare from window to window to window of the buildings outside. Oh God, it had been too long since she’d felt this…this…alive.
“I forgot how absolutely fucking delicious you are, Boxhead,” Jax murmured at the base of her spine, his lips wet on her flesh. His hands roamed up and down her thighs. His fingertips brushed at her sex, her anus.
A shiver of anticipation rippled through her and she closed her eyes, every fibre in her body on fire.
“And so wet for me,” he continued, tracing the seam of her sex with his thumb before burying it into her heat.
She cried out, the pleasure of his invasion an electrical charge sparking over her senses.
His tongue found her anus again, short, fierce jabs and lashes that made her knees quake. Beneath her palms, the glass grew hot.
No, it was her. She was hot. Hot for everything he was doing to her. Everything he was going to do to her.
Right there on the window. With the suite’s warm light illuminating it all.
Her pussy contracted. Another whimper fell from her lips.
He withdrew his tongue from her butt and, one hand moving to her breast, the other cupping the curve of her sex, straightened behind her.
His cock nudged the inside of her thigh as he stood and she glanced down, needing to see its magnificent beauty.
A condom stretched its length, faint marks on its surface telling her he had, indeed, selected the ribbed and studded one.
“For my pleasure,” she declared on a shaky breath.
“Fucking oath,” he rasped into the side of her neck before capturing her earlobe and sucking it into his mouth.
She moaned, rolling her head to the side. “Fucking oath,” she echoed, eyes closing again.
“Ready?” He parted her folds with two fingers and touched her clit with another.
She bucked, the contact more than an electric shock. So much more. “Yes,” she answered, finding his reflection in the window again.
The crown of his cock nudged her exposed entry. His gaze met hers in the glass. His lips twitched. “It’s not too late to go to the zoo.”
“Challenge number two, Campbell,” she ground out. “Make me come now. Four times.”
His nostrils flared. “Challenge accepted.”
He thrust up into her.
Searing pain lanced through her. As always, his size stretched her to the brink of her flesh’s limits. She cried out, dying in the exquisite agony of his penetration. In the friction of his girth sliding past her taut pussy lips.
“Oh God, Nat,” Jax’s breath fanned her shoulder, “I fucking love being inside you.”
He withdrew to the rim of his cockhead and sank into her again. And again. All the while holding her gaze with his in the window’s reflection.
She met each thrust with a roll of her hips, her hands rammed to the window, her toes curled in the plush carpet beneath her feet. He massaged her right breast and pinched her clit, each caress in perfect sync with each other and the rhythm of his cock.
It was sheer and utter pleasure.
She groaned and clenched her inner muscles around his length. He groaned in return, increasing his speed and depth, his upward thrusts powerful. Powerful enough to lift her heels from the floor.
With a gasping giggle, Nat pushed her hand
s harder to the window and grinned at him over her shoulder. “Whoa. Fucking me off my feet, Campbell?”
Raw desire etched Jax’s face. “Whoa is right. How ’bout we…” He shifted without warning, gripping her hip with one hand as he took a step back, his cock still buried deep in her heat. She went with him, knowing exactly what he wanted. It had always been this way with them; they’d known exactly what the other wanted and needed without uttering a word.
Bending at the waist, she straightened her leg out behind her, turning herself into a T, palms pressed to the glass. “Fuck me harder, Jax,” she demanded. “Drive me through the window.”
“Hell, yeah.” Jax let out a ragged breath and slammed hard into her sex, pumping forward now rather than up. Nat braced herself against the glass, the position—one of their favourites back in their day—allowing him to thrust so much deeper with greater force. Hitting her in all the right places. Propelling her closer to a precipice she craved.
His fingers continued to tease the tiny nub of sensitive flesh, sending ribbon after ribbon of intense pleasure unfurling through her core. His other hand roamed her back, her waist, her arse, her thigh. He held her and fucked her, faster and deeper with every stroke.
“Tight and hot and perfect.” His growl flayed her, as wild as his penetrations. “And mine. Fucking mine. Always mine.”
Nat’s heart accelerated. She moaned, not just at the rising pressure in her very centre, but at his strangled words. She doubted he knew what he was saying. She didn’t care. Not when he was about to deliver on his challenge. Not when he was building to a crescendo so intense she wondered if she would survive.
Not when she was about to—
He smacked her arse cheek in a stinging slap, detonating her orgasm in a convulsion of pleasure beyond belief. She threw back her head, her cry loud. “Fuck, oh fuck, yes, yes!”
He didn’t slow down. He withdrew his cock to its rim and slammed back into her, its massive girth sliding against her constricting, pulsing pussy walls. Its crown hit her G-spot over and over. He smacked her butt again.
“Two!” she burst out, her second orgasm shattering her voice, her soul. Her knee shook. Her whole body trembled. She scraped her nails on the glass and arched her back, undone by the intensity of the second climax coming so close to the first. “Oh God, two! Two!”
Getting Played (Heart of Fame #7) Page 11