KEIFER POV
I didn't intend for it to go this far at first. It was supposed to be a quick lesson—just a few penalties for her mouth—but damn it, everything with Jay-Jay always drags out. She has this way of pulling me in until I can't see anything else.
She's making me fall in love with her, and she's making me fall harder every second.
"Fuck, Jay," I groaned into her mouth, my usual composure completely shredded.
She was taking everything I was giving her so well, her body arching into mine as if she were made for this. I finally managed to rid us of the rest of her damp clothes, and seeing her naked in front of me, bathed in the soft light of the room, nearly stopped my heart.
The more I kissed her, the more I explored every curve of her body, the more I felt myself losing every bit of myself. In this room, I wasn't the boss of Section E anymore; I was just a man who was completely undone by the girl in his arms.
She wasn't just taking it, though. In a blur of frantic hands and desperate pulling, she managed to get my shirt and my pants off until I was down to just my boxers.
When my lips found the crook of her neck again, she let out a sound that was half-sob, half-pleasure. To try and muffle her moan from echoing through the hallway, she sank her teeth into my shoulder, the sharp sting of it only driving me more insane.
"Don't hold back, Jay-Jay," I rasped, my hands gripping her hips and pulling her flush against me. "Let me hear you. No one is coming through that door."
"Keifer," she gasped, finally letting the sound go.
Hearing my name fall from her lips like that—breathed like a prayer and a plea combined—was the most addictive thing I'd ever experienced. My name didn't sound like an insult coming from her anymore; it sounded like she was finally admitting defeat, and I was right there with her.
I shifted, the friction of our skin sparking a heat that made the Manila humidity feel like a breeze.
"I'm right here," I murmured, my voice sounding like gravel. I moved my hand from her hip, my fingers trailing up her ribcage, feeling the frantic, beautiful rhythm of her heart against my palm.
"You're not going anywhere, Jay-Jay. Not from me."
She looked up at me, her eyes wide and dark, her lips swollen from my kisses. In that moment, the stubborn, loud-mouthed girl from London was gone, leaving only this raw, breathtaking person who was trusting me with everything she had.
I lowered my head, my forehead resting against hers as we both fought for air. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" I breathed. "You're ruining me, Jay. And I'm going to let you."
I captured her mouth again, this time slow and lingering, tasting the salt from the pool and the sweetness of her. I wanted to memorize the way she moved under me, the way her fingers dug into my back, and the way she finally, finally, stopped fighting the fire between us.
I moved lower, my lips dragging over her skin until I reached her breasts. I took one into my mouth, the heat of her skin making my blood roar in my ears. As I drew her in, my hand found the other, squeezing firmly, wanting to feel every bit of her.
"Keifer," she gasped, her voice breaking on my name, her fingers knotting tight in my hair.
I didn't answer with words. I only pulled harder, my tongue swirling against her, needing to taste her, to mark her as mine in every way possible. The sound she made—that raw, involuntary hitch in her breath—was better than any victory I'd ever had in Section E.
I was losing my mind. Every boundary she'd ever set was dissolving under the friction of our bodies. She was arching her back, offering herself up to me, and I was more than willing to take everything she was giving.
"You're so sensitive for me, Jay-Jay," I rasped, pulling back for a split second to see the flush on her chest before diving back down. "Does it feel good? Tell me."
She couldn't even form a sentence. She just let out another choked-off moan, her hips shifting restlessly against mine. I moved my hand from her breast, my fingers trailing down the center of her stomach, making her shiver even though the room was sweltering.
I was officially addicted. The girl from London had finally met her match, and I was going to make sure she never forgot what it felt like to be completely under my touch.
The friction of her hands against the elastic of my boxers was the final thread of my control snapping. I helped her, kicking them away until there was absolutely nothing left between us. The sight of her—completely bared to me, her skin flushed and her eyes hazy with need—was almost too much to take.
"Please, Keifer," she begged, her voice small and broken, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
I paused, hovering over her, my heart thundering against my ribs like a trapped animal. I moved my lips to the curve of her shoulder, grazing the skin there with my teeth. "Please what, Jay-Jay?" I rasped, needing to hear her say it. Needing her to realize that this was more than just a penalty or a game.
"Please... I want you inside me," she whispered.
I lost it then. All the teasing, the bossy attitude, the calculated moves—it all went up in smoke. I moved between her thighs, my hands sliding under her to pull her hips flush against mine.
I was careful. Even through the haze of my own desperate need, I made sure she felt every bit of the love I was trying to pour into this. I didn't want this to be just about lust; I wanted her to feel the weight of how much she'd changed me.
As I slowly entered her, I watched her face, my thumb catching a stray tear at the corner of her eye. I moved with agonizing slowness, making sure she only felt the pressure of us becoming one, shielding her from the pain as best as I could.
"Look at me, Jay," I commanded softly, my voice thick with emotion.
She opened her eyes, meeting my gaze with a raw vulnerability that stripped me bare.
"You're mine," I murmured, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss that tasted like a promise. "Always."
She actually smiled at me, a soft, breathless curve of her lips that made my chest tighten. Seeing that smile—right here, right now—was the most dangerous thing she'd ever done to me. I started to increase the speed, my movements becoming a steady, driving rhythm that pulled a series of broken, beautiful sounds from her throat.
"I love you, Jay-Jay," I rasped, the words feeling heavy and true as they tore out of me. I'd never said them to anyone like this, with my heart essentially pinned to a sleeve I wasn't even wearing.
"I l-love y-you too, Keifer," she choked out between her gasps and moans, her fingers digging into the muscles of my back, pulling me closer as if she were trying to merge our souls.
I was loving every second of this. It was surreal. This girl—the one I could barely tolerate sixty days ago, the loud-mouthed Londoner who challenged every single order I gave—was currently unraveling in my arms. We were as close as two people could possibly be, and the friction of it was setting my world on fire.
Life really does have a pretty way of saying I'm in charge of you, not the other way around.
I'd spent my whole life being the boss, the President, the one who dictated the rules of Section E. But Jay-Jay? She was the one variable I couldn't calculate. She was the most impossible, stubborn, irritating person I had ever met, and yet, here she was.
Mine. My impossible girl.
I shifted my grip, my hands sliding under her lower back to lift her higher, meeting her every arch and thrust with a possessiveness that felt like it was carved into my bones.
"Say it again," I commanded, my voice dropping into a rough growl as the pleasure started to build into something unbearable. "Tell me you're mine, Jay."
"Yours," she sobbed into my neck, her legs locking around my waist. "Always yours, Keifer."
I buried my face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of chlorine and her skin, and let myself go. I wasn't the King of anything tonight; I was just hers. Completely and utterly hers.
She finally released, her entire body shuddering beneath me as she called out my name one last time, a sound that was pure, golden undone. Seeing her eyes blow out, seeing the way she clung to me like I was the only solid thing left in her world—it was the final push I needed.
I went with her, my own breath hitching as a wave of intense, blinding heat crashed over me. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, my hands gripping the mattress on either side of her head as I pulled her as close as humanly possible. In that moment, there was no London, no Section E, no bickering over chocolate—it was just the two of us, heartbeats slamming against each other in the quiet of the room.
I collapsed against her, careful not to crush her with my full weight, my chest heaving as I tried to pull oxygen back into my lungs. The adrenaline was slowly fading, replaced by a heavy, peaceful exhaustion I'd never felt before.
I stayed there for a long moment, simply listening to the sound of her breathing settling back into a rhythm. I shifted slightly, kissing the sweat-damp skin of her shoulder before lifting my head to look at her.
Her hair was a disaster, her lips were swollen, and her eyes were still slightly hazy—and she had never looked more beautiful.
"Jay-Jay," I whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.
She looked up at me, a sleepy, vulnerable smile touching her lips.
"You're still an asshole," she murmured, her voice barely a thread.
I couldn't help it. I let out a low, genuine chuckle, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. "And you're still the most difficult person I've ever met. But I'm your asshole now"
I pulled her into my arms, tucking her head under my chin as we lay there in the dark. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel like I had to be the President or the boss. I just wanted to stay right here, in this quiet room, with my impossible girl.
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JAY JAY POV
Oh dear. What the actual hell did I just do?
The ceiling fan was spinning above us in a slow, rhythmic blur, and all I could hear was the structural integrity of my life crumbling into tiny, lust-filled pieces. Not that I regret it—my body was currently humming in a way that London physics couldn't explain—but it was too early. Way too early.
I had one major rule in my life. One. Wait until I was twenty to have sex. It was my safeguard, my way of making sure I was the one in control.
But this asshole? He didn't just break the rule; he took a sledgehammer to it and then kissed the debris.
I don't even know what I'm supposed to feel right now. Panic? Euphoria? A sudden urge to move to a deserted island where he can't look at me with those dark, knowing eyes? My brain was back online, and it was screaming at me in a mix of English and Tagalog numbers.
I couldn't even bring myself to look at him. I was suddenly, painfully aware of my own nakedness, the cooling sweat on my skin. I had basically turned into a puddle of salted caramel for the King of Section E.
"You have marks on your neck. Please show them off," Keifer's voice rumbled right against my ear.
I felt his lips press into my skin again—not a soft, apologetic kiss, but a deliberate, heavy brand. He was adding more. He was literally coloring in the spaces he hadn't claimed yet.
"Keifer, stop!" I squeaked, trying to pull the duvet up to my chin. My face was so hot I was surprised the sprinklers hadn't gone off. "You've done enough damage for one night! I'm going to have to wear a turtleneck in the middle of a Philippine summer!"
"Tss," he hummed, his hand sliding under the covers to find the curve of my waist, pulling me back against his chest. "I like them. They suit you."
"They suit you," I corrected, though I was shivering from the touch. "Because you're a predator who likes marking his territory. Honestly, do you have any shame?"
"None when it comes to you, Jay-Jay," he murmured, his teeth grazing my shoulder.
I squeezed my eyes shut, clutching the edge of the blanket. My London friends would never believe this. Jare would probably have a stroke. And I? I was officially, legally, and physically in over my head.
"Go to your own room," I whispered, though I didn't move an inch to push him out of the bed.
"Negotiation denied," Keifer replied, his arm tightening around me as he tucked his head into the crook of my neck. "I'm staying."
I groaned, burying my face in the pillow. I was doomed. Completely and utterly doomed. (But as he kissed the back of my neck one last time, a small, traitorous part of me realized I wouldn't have it any other way.)
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