Elena woke slowly, her body heavy and warm, wrapped tight in Jax’s arms. His leg was thrown over hers, heavy and possessive, pinning her to the mattress. She didn’t want to move, and every inch of her felt marked and alive.
She was sore everywhere, in the best way. Little bites dotted her neck and shoulders, faint bruises bloomed on her hips where his fingers had gripped too hard, and between her thighs there was a deep, delicious ache that pulsed when she shifted. She trailed her fingertips over the marks, a secret smile curving her lips.
This was real. She had actually done it, had mind-blowing, sinful s*x, over and over, with a man who looked like danger and felt like heaven. She waited for the guilt to crash in, the way the sisters always warned it would, but it didn’t come. Instead
