"Okay but, why? What do these even—"
"Function. Nerve clusters map differently." His hips shifted, demonstration as explanation. "Here. The ladder. Variable friction. Your body reads it as distinct inputs, not uniform pressure."
His fingers were still inside her, curling as he spoke. Her hips rolled into his hand involuntarily—his explanation landing as much in her body as her brain.
"And this one—" He guided her hand lower. "Frenum. Hits the anterior wall at specific angles."
April's core clenched around his fingers. The fact that he'dplannedthis, that he'd thought through nerve clusters and friction variables while gettingmetal inserted into his dick—
"The ampallang hits from multiple angles."
Her hand tightened on him.
"You like that," Jax said, not a question. His fingers curled again.
"You... engineered your dick."
"Iteratively." Like it was obvious.
Which was, objectively, the most Jax solution imaginable.
"That's—" She lost the rest of the sentence when his fingers curled again, hitting that spot that made her breath catch. "—incredibly nerdy."
"Functional." He corrected. "Designed for this."
His thumb found her clit, circling with the same focused attention he'd used with his mouth while she explored him. Her hand learned him as his fingers tracked every response. What made her gasp. What made her muscles clench. Adjusting his technique with each.
When he added a third finger, the fullness made her head fall back against the velvet. "Eyes on me." His voice was firm, like a calibration command. April’s eyes snapped to his, body tightening in response.
He withdrew his fingers, and the sudden emptiness felt like a system crash.
"Ready for primary interface testing, or should I keep iterating?" His tone was low, almost casual, but the heat in his gaze betrayed him.
April’s hands found his shoulders, pulling him closer. "Now," she said, voice demanding.
Jax slicked lube over his cock, coating each ridge with care. Then he guided the head to her entrance and paused there, just the pressure of contact. Letting her feel what was coming.
He pushed in slowly, watching her face the entire time. The first ridge rewrote the sensation. A textured pulse that made her inhale wrong. By the time he was fully seated, the metal had turned into a rhythm: three raised beats she felt with every shift of his hips. Her body tried to catalogue it and failed, could only register:different, more, engineered for this exact purpose.
"God," April gasped. "You feel—"
"Language fails here," Jax finished, his voice rough. He leaned forward until their foreheads touched.
He paused when he was fully inside her, letting her adjust. His breathing had gone uneven, the first crack in his careful control. April kissed him—pulling him down to her mouth, claiming this moment. His body answered hers, control fraying.
Then he started to move.
Each thrust dragged the metal in deliberate friction, heat sparking under her skin. Her body had opinions about the hardware that her brain was going to need a spreadsheet to process later. Right now all she could register was that someonehad engineered this, and that the planning was as hot as the execution.
The rhythm was measured at first. Deep thrusts, setting her entire body singing. She pulled him closer, legs wrapping around his hips, wanting more contact, more pressure, morehim. Her focus sharpened until every shift of his hips registered like a system alert. Sweat gathered at the small of her back where his hand gripped her hip.
The fainting couch beneath them creaked slightly, and April had the fleeting, absurd thought that this piece of Victorian furniture was bearing witness to something it had definitely not been designed for.
Jax's pace shifted, fucking her faster. One hand gripped her hip, angling her until each thrust hit that engineered ridge. Her vision narrowed to white noise and data loss. Each time he moved, she felt them—the metal catching against her in ways that made her nerves short-circuit. It wasn't just him filling her—it was texture, friction, systematic optimization made physical.
"Oh god—" April's nails dug into his shoulders. "The—you—"
"I can feel you tightening," Jax said against her mouth, wrecked. "Every time I hit that spot, there, you pull me deeper. You don't even know you're doing it." His hand found hers, fingers interlacing, gripping tight.
