Chapter 209

Chapter 209
Elvira – First Person POV

Jaxon was never the type to look weak. He carried the weight of a pack, the stubbornness of a king, and the arrogance of a man who thought he could wrestle fate into submission. Which is why the sight of him slumped against the dining chair after breakfast made something sharp twist in my chest.

“You don’t look good,” I murmured, brushing crumbs off the table while sneaking a glance at him. His skin looked pale under the morning light streaming through the windows. His jaw flexed, his hand pressed to his temple.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, too fast.

“You’re lying.” I stepped closer, my instincts prickling. Something was wrong. His breathing was shallow, his shoulders slouched. Not Jaxon. Never Jaxon.

I reached for him, ignoring the way his pride bristled. “Come on. Bed.”

“Elvira—”

“Don’t ‘Elvira’ me,” I snapped, gripping his arm with more strength than I thought I had. “You’re burning up.”

His lips twitched like he wanted to smirk but couldn’t find the strength. That alone terrified me. I tugged him up, half-dragging his massive frame toward his room. He didn’t resist—he let me, which was worse. Jaxon never let anyone pull him anywhere.

I managed to get him onto the bed. My hands shook as I reached for the phone on the nightstand, dialing the pack healer. Before I could press send, his hand shot out and clamped around my wrist.

“Don’t,” he growled, voice hoarse.

I blinked at him. “Are you insane? You’re sick—”

“I’m not sick.” He pulled me down, forcing me onto the mattress beside him. His body caged mine with infuriating ease, heat radiating from him like fire. His eyes burned through the haze, sharp and possessive. “I’m sick because I’ve missed you.”

I froze, then slapped his chest. “Are you serious right now?”

He grimaced dramatically. “Not you hitting your patient. Do you want me to die?”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed, the sound bubbling out despite the worry. He smirked, wicked and boyish, like he’d been waiting for me to crack. “That’s better,” he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“You scared me,” I admitted softly, my fingers curling in his shirt.

“Good,” he said. “Maybe you’ll stop running from me then.”

I wanted to argue, but the warmth in his gaze melted me. We lay there for a while, quiet. His heartbeat steadied under my palm, strong and sure. My chest ached with the realization that for all his power, he needed me as much as I needed him.

I lifted my face and kissed him.

It started soft, like testing the waters. But Jaxon was never soft for long. His hand slid to the back of my neck, dragging me deeper into him, his lips demanding. My pulse kicked, fire licking through my veins.

He rolled us in one fluid motion, pressing me into the mattress. His mouth trailed from my lips to my jaw, nipping down my throat. Each bite sent sparks racing across my skin.

“Jaxon—” I breathed, clutching his shoulders as he lowered himself.

“Say it again,” he murmured against my skin. His teeth grazed my collarbone. “Say my name like that.”

Heat pooled between my thighs. He caught my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand. With the other, he slowly tugged at the hem of my shirt, lifting it inch by agonizing inch. His mouth followed, kissing every exposed patch of skin as it was revealed.

By the time he pulled it over my head, I was trembling. His eyes darkened, locked on me like I was prey he’d waited a lifetime to devour.

“You’re mine,” he growled.

“Then take me,” I whispered.

Something primal snapped in him. He lowered his head, sucking one breast into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the peak until I arched with a strangled moan. He bit down gently, enough to make me gasp, then soothed it with a hot lick. His other hand kneaded the neglected breast, fingers rolling my nipple until my back bowed.

“Jaxon—please—”

“Patience, love,” he rasped, trailing kisses lower. He bit along my ribs, down my stomach, leaving a burning path. When he reached the waistband of my shorts, his gaze flicked up, daring me to stop him.

I didn’t. I couldn’t.

He hooked his thumbs and tugged them down, pullling me bare under his hungry stare. The cool air hit me, but his heat was everywhere, his mouth dragging down my hipbone, biting lightly at the sensitive skin.

And then he buried his face between my thighs.

My breath shattered as his tongue slid through my folds, slow and deliberate. My hips jerked, but his strong hands gripped my thighs, holding me open. His tongue circled my clit, teasing, then pressing harder, drawing desperate whimpers from my throat.

“Oh gods—Jaxon—”

He groaned against me, the vibration sending me spiraling. His tongue thrust into me, then back up to flick my clit mercilessly. He devoured me like a starving man, growling when I tried to wriggle away from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Stay still,” he ordered, voice rough against my skin.

I cried out as he sucked hard, my vision going white. Release tore through me, violent and hot, leaving me trembling under his hold. He licked me through it, drinking me in until I sagged limp.

Before I could catch my breath, he was over me again, kissing me deep, making me taste myself on his tongue. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer.

“Wet for me already,” he murmured smugly, grinding his thick length against my entrance.

“Jaxon—” I pleaded, nails digging into his back.

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, stretching me until I gasped. His forehead pressed to mine, his jaw tight with restraint. “You feel…so fucking good,” he hissed.

When he bottomed out, he paused, letting me adjust. His hand cupped my face tenderly, so at odds with the raw hunger in his body. “Elvira, look at me.”

I did, and the bond surged. A silver warmth wrapped around my chest, pulling tight but not painful this time. He kissed me again and moved.

Each stroke was deep, deliberate, filling me to the brink. The rhythm built slowly, teasing, until I begged breathlessly, “Harder.”

And he obliged. His hips snapped, driving into me with a force that made the headboard slam against the wall. My moans turned into screams as pleasure built with every wild thrust. His mouth found my breast again, biting, sucking, claiming.

“You’re mine,” he growled into my skin. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” I gasped, clinging to him as he pounded into me. “Always—”

The bond flared brighter, no longer fractured, no longer fragile. He growled low in his throat, losing control, thrusting faster, harder, until I shattered around him again. My walls clenched, milking him, dragging a guttural curse from his lips.

“Fuck—Elvira—”

He buried himself deep, release flooding through him as his body jerked against mine. For a moment, neither of us moved, just clung to each other, panting, shaking, and alive.

Then he collapsed onto the bed beside me, pulling me into his arms, refusing to let go. His hand stroked my hair, his lips pressing to my temple.

“Better?” I whispered breathlessly, and teasing.

“Much better.” His voice was hoarse but smug. “See? Not sick at all.”

I smacked his chest lightly, laughing even as tears pricked my eyes. “Idiot.”

He caught my hand, kissed my knuckles, and whispered, “No, love. I’m healed. Because you’re back where you belong.”

I pressed my face into his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.