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“Gia,” Jax murmured gruffly, his lips sliding along my cheek. “Christ, I want you.”
I closed my eyes, my hands fisting in the thick strands of his hair. I was on fire for him, my skin feeling too tight and sensitive. “You had me.”
“I made the right decision walking away.” His breath gusted over my temple. “That doesn’t mean I don’t regret it.”
A tiny voice of caution was screaming. “You’ll hurt me.”
“I’ll worship you.” One of his hands captured my nape. The other gripped my hip, urging me into the slide of his hardness against my clit. “You remember how it was. Hours with my hands and mouth on you, my cock inside you—”
“For how long?” My core was clenching, tightening in demand for an orgasm.
“Weeks.” He groaned. “Months. Jesus, I’m so hard it hurts.”