His hair tickled her thighs as his lips descended over her sensitive bundle of nerves and sucked it between his teeth. Another finger joined the first, rubbing against a pleasurable spot high inside her channel, electrifying her. Her body shaking, the coils finally snapped, and she fell off the cliff into the ocean, overcome with wave after wave of contractions so strong, they bordered on pain.
She heard the ripping of the condom package, and then Jax was on her, sliding up her body until the head of his erect cock nudged her opening. Still shuddering with the aftershocks of her climax, she hooked her ankles around his waist and took him deep inside, reigniting the flames as if she hadn’t come at all. His cock stretched her beyond comfortable, filling her. Completing her.
A round, puckered scar high on his right shoulder caught her attention. Tracing it with her finger, she silently questioned him with her eyes. Was that from a bullet?
“We all carry scars. Some are just more visible than others.” Without elaborating, he dipped his head to gently kiss her, bracing his weight on his arms so he would not crush her.
A sharp sting on her shoulder tore her from her thoughts. She yelped as he bit harder into her flesh and then pinched the side of her breast until she sucked in a breath. The pain morphed into a blazing heat, and her vaginal muscles clenched around his cock.
Gliding in and out of her soaked channel, he watched for her reactions, seriousness banked in his gaze. When he bumped her cervix, she cried out, her fingers digging into the skin of his back deep enough to draw blood. He grazed her nipple with his teeth and swirled his tongue around the areola while he slipped his hand between them. Two fingers worked her swollen clit, rubbing, circling, and stroking.
Boneless, weightless, and mindless, she closed her eyes, hovering on the precipice of climax. His lips descended over hers in a bruising, claiming kiss, and his tongue plundered, mirroring the actions of his cock, driving her higher and higher.
“Come again, Katerina. Come now.” He pinched her clit and bit her nipple until an explosion of light flashed behind her eyelids.
Her body bowed off the bed, and she shattered, splintering into a million pieces. This orgasm was completely different from her first, not as deep or as sharp, but equally as pleasurable.
Over and over, her pussy clamped down on his cock, and this time she watched him as his face contorted into a mix of pleasure-pain, eyes shut, brows furrowed, deep lines crinkling his forehead, and perspiration trailing down the side of his face.
With a shout, he shuddered, climaxing so violently she felt the pulsations inside her. She smoothed the plastered hair off his face and rained kisses down his jaw to his fluttering pulse point in his neck. He rolled off her and gathered her in his arms, staring up at the ceiling.
As a messed-up teenager, she’d fumbled with boys in the backseats of cars, the windows fogging as they groped each other with inexperienced and clumsy hands. Boys who took what she gave freely at that age, her need to feel loved by someone, anyone her only goal. Too young to know better, her body didn’t soften, didn’t dampen.
Then she’d had decent sex with men like Tom, which achieved mutual orgasms without dirtying the sheets or requiring a shower to clean the mix of sweat and bodily fluids from their bodies.
No question, the sex with Jax had been phenomenal. Better than when she’d placed first in her Moot Court Competition. But still, something felt . . . off. They’d made love. Tenderly. She’d expected sex with Jax to be the equivalent of a double-hot-fudge-cookie-dough sundae with extra whipped cream. Except for those couple of bites and pinches, their lovemaking had been closer to French vanilla.
“Jax? Can I ask you a question?” she asked.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Of course. You can ask me anything.”
She took a deep breath. “Did you hold back with me?”
He went completely still and a look of pain crossed his face. Then he got off the bed and started dressing.
“Jax—”
“I’m sorry. This was a mistake.” His tone was flat. Lifeless.
“I don’t understand. Where are you going?” She picked up a nightshirt off her floor and threw it on. “Talk to me, damn it. You owe me at least that much.”
He took a step closer and reached out for her before shaking his head and dropping his hand to his side. “I’m sorry. I can’t . . . I’m just so sorry.” He turned his back on her and strode out of the room.
Completely gutted, she held back her tears and fell to her knees. Every molecule in her body screamed for her to drag him back to bed and fuck the answer out of him, but she couldn’t ignore the agony in his eyes or the way his shoulders had drooped in defeat. It didn’t matter how much she wanted to soothe and comfort him.