He didn't kiss like Kael.
Kael kissed like possession — a signature, a deed, a line drawn in ink. Jax kissed like a dare. Like he was testing whether I'd flinch. Whether I'd run. Whether I was really as brave as I pretended to be.
I didn't flinch.
His hands found my hips and pulled me against him — hard enough to bruise, hard enough to feel every inch of muscle and heat and hunger. His mouth left mine. Trailed down my jaw. My throat. The marks Kael had left last night.
"He marked you," Jax murmured against my skin. "Everywhere."
"He was claiming what's his."
"Then I'll claim what's mine."
He spun us. My back hit the wall. His body caged me in — arms on either side of my head, hips pinning mine, the entire weight of him pressing me into the drywall. His eyes were black now. Pupils bl
