❝𝒎𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒆𝒊𝒑𝒆𝒊𝒔.❞
(you're missing from me.)
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𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔
Iva Laurent lost her parents when she was eight. Sold to the black market by her only relative left on this earth, she was l...
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LONDON February Location: Iva's Apartment
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When Jax finally pulled back from the kiss, I was already left shaking and gasping for air. It was apparent that he wasn't done with me when he leaned close once again and his lips traced a path along my jaw, stopping on the sensitive spot just below my ear. I flinched at the sudden sensation but unable to escape when he had me caged within his embrace. A soft, keening sound formed at the back of my throat and I bit onto my lower lip to suppress it. Pecking a kiss on my earlobe his deep voice echoed in my ear, "Don't bite your lip, sweetness."
I felt his hand reaching under the wide hem of the hoodie the touch of his warm, calloused fingers against my skin caused me to shudder involuntarily. His touch against my skin was causing tingles that crawled all the way into my heart. Somehow, a part of me couldn't comprehend this foreign sensation of wanting him and needing him beyond the physical closeness that our bodies currently shared.
"Iva," Jax breathed into the curve where my neck and shoulder meets and I moaned in response, exactly powerless to his advances as my body leaned into him to support my weak limbs.
"P-Please don't tease me," I pleaded. But he was as merciless with his touch and his fingertips grazed lightly along the small of my back, drawing out querulous whimpers that I no longer recognised as mine. Embarrassed, I bit into the fabric of the jacket on his shoulder and my body shook from the overwhelming sensation.
"Should I stop?" he exhaled in my ear, his voice laden with tension and rumbled deeply into my very core. His hands halted and rested against the curves of my waist, waiting for my answer.
The rational part of me knew that I shouldn't be allowing this, but I had wanted so much more from him. Each time he touched me, and with every brush of his lips against my skin, my heart pounded louder and drowned me further into the depths of his embrace. I was already inundated beneath the surface, in desperation of his saving to keep me from perishing into oblivion.
I admit, I love him. There was no escaping from the terrifying truth that I had long handed my love into the palms of another. Scars from my past were enough to remind me that I don't deserve a magnanimous emotion such as love. From the moment Jax appeared right into my life, I was enduring through fear and vulnerability of an attraction my heart couldn't deny. I dreaded to be ruined and ravaged, but he did none of those.
Instead, this man found his way right through my chest and used his tenderness to piece my fragmented heart back together. He reminded me to feel and to let my heart beat in a manner without ache. I did. When it concerned him, it was always a weird sense of nostalgia and warmth, coupling with the realisation that I was finally returned to the right pair of arms. But I kept asking myself: Why couldn't I remember him if he's etched so close to my heart?
