Chapter 127
Jackson's POV
The taste of Ellie's skin, the soft sounds she was making, the way her body was responding to every touch—it was driving me insane in the best possible way.
I'd been so careful with her up until now. So measured. Every kiss, every caress had been calculated to not overwhelm her, to give her space to adjust. And it had been worth it, watching her gradually relax, watching the trust build between us.
But this—this was different. This was Ellie taking initiative, Ellie wanting me with the same intensity I felt for her. And the knowledge that she was comfortable enough now to let herself enjoy this, to actively respond instead of just accepting...
Dios, it was almost too much.
My hand skimmed up her ribcage, hesitating just below her breast. In the past, this was where she'd tense up, where I'd feel her body go rigid with nervousness. But now—
Now she arched into my touch, a soft whimper escaping her lips that went straight to my groin.
I cupped her breast gently, feeling the rapid beat of her heart beneath my palm, and she didn't freeze. Didn't pull away. Instead, her hands tightened in my hair, pulling me closer, and when I circled my thumb over the sensitive peak, she actually moaned.
"Jackson," she gasped, and the way she said my name—breathy and desperate and full of need—made something in my chest expand and tighten all at once.
This is because of you, Orion rumbled with satisfaction. You taught her not to fear touch. You showed her pleasure instead of pressure. Ours. She's ours.
I kissed her again, deep and possessive, my tongue exploring her mouth while my hands mapped every curve of her body. She was so fucking responsive now—every touch I'd carefully introduced over the past days had led to this moment where she could just feel without that nervous tension.
And Christ, knowing that I was the one who'd taught her this, that every moan spilling from her lips was because I'd been patient enough to show her how good it could be—it made me rock hard.
My hand drifted lower, fingers tracing the waistband of her jeans before dipping beneath. The moment my fingertips brushed the soft skin of her lower abdomen, Ellie's hips jerked forward with a gasp.
"Jackson," she whimpered, and fuck, the way she said my name—breathy and desperate—went straight to my cock.
I could feel the heat radiating from between her legs, could smell the unmistakable scent of her arousal. My wolf was going crazy, every instinct screaming at me to touch her there, to feel how wet she was, to make her come apart under my hands.
My fingers traced lower, skimming over her hip bone, and she moaned—actually moaned—arching into my touch like her body was begging for more.
"Is this okay?" I managed to ask, my voice rough with need.
"God, yes," she gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
Fuck.
My hand slid further down, cupping her through the denim, and the heat I felt there nearly made me lose it right then. She was burning up, and when I pressed the heel of my palm against her, she actually cried out, her whole body shuddering.
She's so ready, Orion growled. Smell her. Feel her. She wants this. Take her. Claim her.
I rubbed slow circles through the fabric, feeling her hips start to move against my hand, chasing the friction. Her head fell back against the counter, exposing the long line of her throat, and the soft, desperate sounds she was making were the hottest thing I'd ever heard.
Her parents gave us privacy. Gave us permission. This house, this time—it's all ours. She's ready. You're ready. Just push her jeans down and—
My phone rang.
The shrill sound cut through the heated air like a bucket of ice water. I froze, my forehead dropping to rest against Ellie's as I let out a string of curses in Spanish that would've made my mother wash my mouth out with soap.
"Ignore it," Ellie whispered, her fingers tightening in my hair.
God, I wanted to. But the phone kept ringing, insistent and impossible to tune out. I pulled back just enough to glance at the screen on the counter.
Isabella.
My cousin never called unless it was important. And given the conversation we'd had last time—the warnings about pack politics, about staying alert—ignoring this call wasn't an option.
"It's Isabella," I said quietly, reluctantly stepping back. "I should—"
"Answer it," Ellie finished, even though I could see the disappointment in her eyes. "Maybe it's important."
I pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, trying to calm my racing heart and other parts of my anatomy, then grabbed the phone.
"Isabella," I said, working to keep my voice neutral despite my frustration. "What's wrong?"
"Jackson." Her voice was tight, urgent, speaking in rapid-fire Spanish. "I don't have much time to explain. Caleb just finished his closed training in Barcelona. He's already on a plane to the States."
My entire body went rigid. "¿Cuándo?" When?
"He lands the day after tomorrow. Jackson, you need to be careful. This isn't just a family visit."
I moved toward the far corner of the kitchen, acutely aware of Ellie watching me with concern. "I don't understand. I'm not challenging for the Alpha position. Why would he come to—"
"Because not fighting for it doesn't mean they don't see you as a threat," Isabella cut in sharply. "The Alpha transition is next winter. Caleb wants to confirm your position—or rather, confirm that you're not a position worth worrying about."
My stomach dropped. "He's coming to test whether I have a wolf."
"Yes." Isabella's voice dropped lower. "And probably to confirm you're as weak as everyone thinks you are. If you can't shift, you're not a threat. But Jackson—"
"What?"
"Just be careful. I can't say more. Someone might be listening." There was a pause, then: "I have to go. Stay alert. Don't give him any openings."
The line went dead.
I stood there for a long moment, phone still clutched in my hand, my earlier arousal completely forgotten. Caleb was coming. My cousin—the one being groomed for pack leadership—was literally flying across the ocean to evaluate me.
To test me.
To confirm I was no threat to his ambitions.
"Jackson?"
Ellie's soft voice pulled me back to the present. She'd moved closer, concern written all over her face. "What happened? Who's Caleb?"
I turned to face her, trying to organize my thoughts. "Caleb Martinez. He's... he's my cousin. Isabella's younger brother."