“Yes…”
He kept the slow build—fingers sliding inside her now, curling gently while his palm pressed in just the right place. She rocked into his hand, breath coming in short pants, body trembling on the edge. When she was close—hips stuttering, small whimpers—he eased his touch away, rolled on protection one-handed, and shifted her slightly.
Still spooned, he lifted her top leg over his, hooked it back, and entered her in one slow, smooth glide. The angle felt devastatingly intimate—deep, every inch of him stretching her open while his chest stayed pressed to her back, arm wrapped around her, hand returning to circle her clit with perfect pressure.
He moved slow and deliberate—long, rolling strokes that dragged against every sensitive place inside her. She sighed with every pass, reaching back to grip his hip, urging him closer. He picked up the pace gradually—deeper, steadier—skin meeting skin in soft rhythm, her moans growing louder, freer.
She came like that—sudden and hard—body tightening around him in rhythmic waves, a sharp cry muffled against the pillow. The feel of her clenching pulled him right to the edge, but he held on, slowing just enough to let her ride the aftershocks, whispering against her ear, “That’s it… give me everything.”
Then he eased out, rolled her onto her hands and knees—gentle but firm. Blindfold still in place, she braced on her forearms, hips lifted, thighs trembling. He knelt behind her, hands settling on her hips, thumbs spreading her open just enough to see how wet and swollen she was for him.
“Fuck, look at you,” he rasped, voice wrecked. “So ready for me.”
He slid back in—deeper this time, the new angle letting him reach every place that made her gasp. He moved with controlled power—steady, insistent—hands guiding her back to meet him with each thrust. One hand slipped around to circle her clit again, matching his rhythm. She pushed back instinctively, breath ragged, body shaking.
“Jax—god—”
He leaned over her, chest to her back, mouth at her ear. “Come again for me, Aria. Let me feel it— like you can’t get enough.”
The words—combined with the blindfold stealing her sight, the slow grind of his hips, the relentless pressure on her clit—tipped her over.
She came harder than before—back arching, cry raw and broken, body fluttering around him in long, rolling pulses. The intensity dragged him right to the edge—thrusts turning short and urgent, hips pressing forward as he followed her with a low, guttural groan, burying himself deep and pulsing inside her.
They collapsed together—sweaty, panting, tangled in sheets. He reached up, untied the blindfold gently, let it fall away. Her eyes were glassy, cheeks flushed, lips parted.
He brushed damp hair from her face, kissed her temple.
“Lesson one,” he murmured, voice wrecked. “Complete.”
She laughed weakly, still trembling. “You’re going to kill me.”
“Worth it.”
He pulled her close again, tucking her against his chest, legs entwined. Her heartbeat thumped against his ribs—fast, then slowing, matching his own.
Outside the cicadas kept their endless song. The pool lights flickered through the blinds in soft turquoise pulses. Jax stared at the ceiling, one hand tracing idle circles on her bare back, and felt something settle inside him—quiet, certain, and terrifying in its simplicity.
The word “fake” had started to feel like a lie he no longer wanted to tell.
The touches lingered longer now. The silences between them were comfortable, easy. Quiet. Dangerous. Impossible to ignore.
He pressed his lips to the top of her head, breathed her in—salt, sunscreen, and the faint sweetness that was just her.
Yeah.
Worth it.
???
Chapter Fifteen
Aria
The last few days in Brisbane passed in a soft, golden blur that felt almost stolen. Nan’s condo had become a bubble—warm mornings with coffee on the patio, Evelyn’s teasing laughter over breakfast, lazy afternoons by the pool where the only sounds were the cicadas and the occasional splash when Jax cannonballed in just to make her shriek. No cameras. No schedules. No one watching to see if their hands lingered too long or if their smiles looked too real.
And yet they still touched like people who were pretending.
She noticed it more now that the performance had nowhere to go.
