The words were a husky promise against her skin, a vow that sent a shiver of pure anticipation down Nulissa's spine. The teasing, the tantalizing exploration, it was all a prelude, and she was more than ready for the main performance.
Before she could form a coherent reply, Jax moved again. His hands, which had been so gently exploring her, slid down to the backs of her thighs.
With a grunt of effortless strength, he stood, lifting her as if she weighed nothing.
Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, her arms encircling his neck as she was cradled against his chest. The sudden shift in position, the feeling of his powerful body supporting hers, was intoxicating.
He carried her through the grand foyer, his steps sure and deliberate.
She clung to him, her face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, a heady mix of masculine musk, leather, and the faint, coppery trace of his own blood that still lingered on her lips.
