THE RECKONING

Alina's POV

Jaxon slipped the shirt over his head without any ceremony, revealing a striking tattoo. A rose and a snake were intertwined, both appearing to bleed, capturing a mix of pain and beauty.

“Tell me about it,” I said, reaching out to trace it with my fingertips.

His skin was warm, and I felt him react to my touch, tensing slightly. “Not happening.”

“Dare,” I insisted, outlining the rose with my finger. “You have to tell me.”

He caught my wrist, his grip firm but not harsh. “Some stories aren’t pretty, Alina.”

“I’m not looking for pretty,” I replied, locking eyes with him. “I want the truth.”

For a moment, he was silent. Then, he let go of my wrist, as if he had made a decision.

“My sister,” he said, his voice stripped of everything but the words. “Maya. She was with the cartel. I wasn’t meant to be a part of it, but somehow, I got dragged in too. When I tried to escape, they killed her to control me. The rose represents her. The snake symbolizes what I became.”

I looked at him, seeing the pain of that loss etched into his skin. “Jaxon—”

“Your turn,” he said, cutting off my sympathy. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” I whispered.

“Do you feel this?” He placed his hand on my chest, right over my heart. I could feel it racing beneath his palm. “Do you feel me?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Enough to show me you’re serious? That you could actually commit to this, to us, like you said?”

I hesitated. “What do you mean?”

His eyes burned with intensity. “I mean prove to me you’re not just talking. Show me you can handle what happens if you decide to stay.”

“I don’t—”

“Get on your knees,” he commanded, his voice low but firm. Not cruel. Just absolute.

Every logical part of me shouted to refuse. But the part that had walked into the club, that had kissed him despite the risks, made me drop to my knees without thinking.

He gasped.

“You’re choosing this,” he said, cradling my face. “Say it.”

“I’m choosing this,” I whispered.

He unbuttoned his pants with one hand, and I watched as he freed himself. I gasped, my eyes wide as I took in the sight of him. His dick was massive, hard and throbbing, veins standing out like they were begging for attention. The ache between my thighs pulsed harder, my cunt already wet just from looking at him. Instead of pushing my head down, he let me decide what to do. This choice felt more intimate than anything else we’d shared.

I reached up, wrapping my hand around him, and felt him shudder. I stroked slowly, testing the weight and heat of him. Then I leaned forward and put my mouth on him. My mouth stretched around him, saliva pooling as I struggled to take him deeper. 

His hand came to my hair immediately, threading through it, but he didn’t force anything. He just held me there as I moved, setting my own pace, making my own choices. The control was intoxicating. His breathing became ragged, his grip tightening in my hair as I took him deeper.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “That’s perfect, princess. Just like that.”

I could feel every inch of him, the weight of his dick on my tongue, the way it pulsed as I worked him. My hands gripped his thighs for balance, my nails digging into his skin as I moaned around him. The taste of him was intoxicating, salty and raw, and I found myself wanting more, wanting to feel him fucking my mouth harder.

I kept moving, wanting to see what would break his control. His hips thrust forward involuntarily, and a low groan escaped his throat. I could feel the tension building in his body.

“Alina,” he said, his voice strained. “If you keep—”

I didn’t stop. Instead, I sucked harder, my tongue pressing against the underside of his shaft as I took him deeper. His groans filled the room, spurring me on as I let myself get lost in the act. I wanted to feel him lose control. I wanted to know that I had that power over him.

He came with a hoarse shout, his entire body going rigid as he spilled into my mouth. I swallowed greedily, surprising myself with how natural it felt. When he finally pulled back, he was breathing hard, his eyes blown wide with something that looked like awe.

“Come here,” he said roughly, pulling me up to kiss him desperately.

He gently laid me back on the bed, my head spinning slightly from the wine and all the movement. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slid my sweats down, exposing me to him. His hands were warm as he spread my legs. My heart raced, a desperate ache pulsing through me. Oh God, I want him so badly—his touch, his breath, everything. His hands was on my pussy, sliding through my wetness, and then he leaned down to taste me—

Then the door opened.

Ronan stood there in his tailored suit, his green eyes taking in everything: Jaxon’s naked chest, my flushed skin, the obvious intimacy of what had just happened.

His jaw tightened. For a moment, I saw the jealousy he was trying to hide.

“Commissioner Hart is calling,” he said, his voice ice. “He’s asking for Alina.”

His presence in the doorway felt sharp, slicing through the heavy tension between Jaxon and me. I quickly jumped off the bed, realizing how bare and unkempt I must look—flushed, messy, and wearing clothes that didn’t quite fit me. Jaxon stayed still for a moment, pulling his pants up slowly, as if trying to ignore the electricity buzzing in the room.

“Commissioner Hart,” Ronan said again, his voice tight. “Your father's asking for you Alina.”

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, my hands trembling a bit. There were so many missed calls—seven from my dad in just the last hour.

“I’ll take the call in another room,” I said, but Ronan was already striding away, leaving the door open behind him like he was making a point.

Before I could follow him, Jaxon caught my wrist. “Don’t tell him anything.”

“I wasn’t going to,” I replied, gently pulling my wrist free.

“I mean it, Alina. Your dad knows how to manipulate. He’ll twist whatever you say into something that helps him.”

I nodded, aware that his warning was about more than just talk. Then I made my way down the hallway, following Ronan to a study I hadn’t seen before—it felt like something out of an old detective book, all dark wood and leather.

Ronan handed me the phone and left me alone.