He kisses my inner thighs ever so gently. “There’s nothing I want more in this life than to get you off,” he says. “Use me, take advantage of me. You’ll make me the happiest man alive.”
His words alone make me flower and ache. This is what I’ve been waiting for all my life—a man whose words and need and big cock will bring about my complete undoing. “Dear boy,” I say. “Why are you so good?”
“Lie back,” he says—and with that his tongue laps at my wet lips, parting them wider. Uh-oh, he’s found me so drenched it’d be embarrassing if it wasn’t so fucking amazingly hot. I open my legs as wide as I can to give him easier access and space to eat me alive.
“You’re delicious,” he says against my pussy, almost breathing it out so I can feel the small sound waves vibrating against my swelling flesh. This is what I am right now, not an aspiring writer, not a mystery investigator, just an aching, throbbing, shameless pussy.
He squeezes my thighs now, too roughly, but I instantly forgive him. His thumb strokes my wetness, slowly sliding inside and I mewl. Yes, I fucking mewl like a dying kitten.
His manic tongue gets busy with my clit, licking, sucking, flicking, swirling and kissing. I’m being pushed toward a fast, high climax within seconds, maybe even some squirting. I will have no control whatsoever.
How the hell can he do this to me every single time?
Jax slides a second finger inside and my body squeezes tight around his strong fingers as they press inside me, finding the secret spot in there that sends shocks of a new kind of pleasure through my core.
“Do you like?” he asks.
“Uh-huh,” I say, almost humming. “Shut-up. More.” Now I’m the cavewoman talking in one-word grunt sentences. Real charming, Ella.
“I love my naughty girl,” he says and then his tongue attacks me again, pressing roughly against my clit, circling it while his fingers push deeper and rub my inner walls rhythmically.
I don’t want to escape this ever but my body begins to quiver and throb in anticipation of a crushing orgasm. I give in. The words come pouring out and I have zero control over them. “That’s it. Fuck,” I say in a whimper, pulling tight on his hair to keep him in place. “Don’t stop. Jax, oh my lord. Fuck me with your fingers. Faster, harder, yes, yes, keep doing, keep doing. Oh my sweet fucking lord! I’m going to come. Make me come.”
Everything implodes in a hot electric pulse and then it begins. I scream and clench around his fingers, and I quake so hard my belly tickles and my mind blows into warm sensations that thrill every joint in my body. Pure ecstasy lifts me up, rolling through me like a hurricane, leaving me gasping and whining in exhaustion as my heart stretches out and pounds blood everywhere. What in the hell is this? I’ve nothing to compare it to.
This was no orgasm, more like a total and complete bodygasm.
He quickly climbs over me, placing a hand beneath my head to push me up in a sitting position. “Sorry, babe,” he says, “no rest for you this time.”
He picks me up and sits me down on him, pulling me close. My breasts smash against his firm chest.
I barely have a moment to exhale when I feel the pressure down there as he pushes his thick erection inside me already, hard and impatient.
I’ve never been wetter and manage to stretch around the head without screaming. I lift my hips a little and then lower myself down onto him, biting my lip as the pressure is mingled with a short, sharp tinge of pain, until he fills me completely. I mean, fucking completely, stretching me to my absolute limit with every short thrust of his slowly probing cock.
I’m on top but he’s doing the work.
I kiss his mouth and get my hands on his chiseled pecs and ridiculously defined abs. I want to rain kisses down on them when I spot something that shoots me straight into a sudden shock.
“What the hell?” I say, staring at the fresh tattoo right underneath his collarbone, across the top of his left pec. “What is that?”
His smirk is maddening as his hands thrust my hips up and then pull me hard back down onto his cock. “Don’t stop moving,” he says. “I can’t bear it.”
“Jax, stop,” I say, feeling the rough skin under the dark blue ink with my fingers. I study the elaborate calligraphy of the script that looks like it is trapped within vines and rose bushes, the blue tones circled by some scarlet and some golden hues, curling across his tanned skin where my name has been engraved forever. Ella Wade.
He follows my gaze now, studying my face as I’m trying to find the right words. “Do you like it?” he says, a serious look in his eyes.