When he finally strips off my jeans and underwear, when his mouth finds me where I need him most, I nearly come off the bed.
“Fuck …” My hands fist in his hair.
He chuckles against me, the vibration making me moan. “That’s it, baby. Let me hear you. No one’s here to tell you to be quiet.”
And that reminder that I don’t have to hold back, don’t have to make myself smaller or quieter, breaks something loose in me. I let go. Let myself be loud. Demanding. Greedy. And Jax loves it. Encourages it. Drives me higher and higher until I’m shaking, gasping his name, coming apart under his tongue.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing his way back up my body. “So, fucking beautiful.”
I pull him down for a kiss, tasting myself on his lips. “Need you inside me. Now.”
“Condom …”
“I’m on birth control. I’m clean. Unless you want to …” I say, nibbling my lip.
“Fuck no. I want to feel you. All of you.” His forehead rests against mine. “You sure?”
“I’m sure. I trust you.”
Something in his expression shifts. Softens. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Now stop talking and fuck me.”
He grins, positioning himself. “Yes, ma’am.”
When he pushes inside, we both groan. It’s been weeks, and the stretch burns in the best way. He stills, letting me adjust, his entire body tense with restraint.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“So okay. Move. Please move.”
He does. Slow at first, deep strokes that have me clinging to his shoulders. But I don’t want slow. Don’t want gentle.
“Harder,” I demand. “I’m not going to break.”
“Thank fuck.” He shifts the angle, drives deeper, and I cry out. “That’s it. Take it, baby. Take everything.”
And I do. I meet him thrust for thrust, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him impossibly close. My nails rake down his back hard enough to leave marks.
“Mine,” he growls in my ear. “You’re mine now.”
“Yours,” I gasp. “Always yours.”
The words push him over some edge. He pounds into me harder, faster, and I love it. Love the loss of control. Love how he makes me feel, wanted, cherished, claimed.
“Touch yourself,” he demands. “I want to feel you come around me.”
I slide my hand between us, circling my clit, and the added sensation makes me moan.
“That’s my girl. So, fucking perfect.”
The combination of his words, his cock, and my fingers is too much. I come with a cry, clenching around him, and he follows immediately, groaning my name as he spills inside me. We collapse together, sweaty and satisfied and perfect.
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
“Yeah.” He’s still inside me, not pulling out yet. “That was …”
“Amazing.”
