𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: Jax Teller x female SAMCRO member in disguise
𝒥𝒶𝓍 𝒫𝒪𝒱
Church had a strong stench of cheap lies disguised as brotherhood and loyalty, like a shitty Yankee candle a mother didn’t ask for Christmas. Smoke lingered angrily thick beneath the ceiling, like an angry storm cloud. Cheap beer bottles decorated the sacred table. Every patch around the table represented blood, masculinity, sacrifice, and stupid promises no one truly believed in.
"We move at midnight “
Clay’s voice pierced through the smoke, commanding and dictatorial like a dictator or a cult leader addressing their followers.
"The bastards won't see it coming."
Heads nodded around the reaper. Tig, had a fucked up perverted grin plastered all over his face . The bastard definitely jerk off to this type of chaos. Chibs, scratched his beard and Bobby leaned back in his chair, just listening not talking.. smart man
I should've been paying attention… I know I should
But instead….
I was looking at hands…
His hands
Jesus Christ.
I blink hard a couple times and turn back my glaze towards clay .. for three seconds before turning back my eyes wonder..
Small.
Delicate..
And pretty…
Those were the first three things I noticed.
I’d seen those hands break random bastards noses, strip an engine beautifully in under a hour, and reload a gun faster than most of us sad fuckers could think. They weren’t weak- definitely not just different..
His fingers were slimmer than mine
Long.
Clean.
No grease buried between his nails. They were perfect . every nail was short, even, almost perfect. Like they were professionally done.
His little gloves always stayed on during runs
Fucking always.
Now they rested on the table beside him, his bare hands folded together as Clay carried on.
Delicate…
That was the word my brain thought of . It landed, on delicate…. I hated it
As much as I hated the fact, sometimes I catch myself dreaming on the very hands I’m thinking about now. I dream about them running up and down my shaft in a pretty upward motion. And rubbing. His pretty finger on my tip…
Fucking hell, that sounded very gay, and I’m NOT! Gay
Then he reached for his beer.
His wrist curved slightly in a graceful motion.
Too graceful
What the hell is wrong with me?…
thank you so much for reading lovely any feedback would be appreciated!
Leaving your house in the mornings for work required skill. There was always a careful balance involved when it came to lugging everything you needed to bring with you to Iron Pulse, especially since you stubbornly refused to take multiple trips out to your car.
With your gym bag slung over one shoulder, you carried a pale green tumbler filled with coffee in one hand while your car keys were looped through one of your fingers. Cradling a white shaker bottle filled with your protein shake pressed to your chest with an arm, you always struggled not to drop it and let its contents splatter all over your driveway. In your opposite hand you carried a forty ounce blue water bottle, the handle of which you held with your ring and pinky fingers so that you still maintained the ability to open and close your front door when you left.
Shuffling your way carefully down the walkway that led from your front door to your driveway with your hands completely full, you made your way towards your silver Toyota which Teller had so chivalrously forced his minions to return to you late last night. After their unexpected visit, you’d tossed and turned in bed struggling to fall asleep because the entire ordeal had left you with countless questions.
Why had Jax so stubbornly and irritatingly refused payment for his garage’s services? Was it simply because he wanted to insult you to the point of stating that even your money meant nothing to him? Or had your first instinct been correct in assuming that he was planning to hold this little “good deed” over you as if you now owed him a favor in return? A shudder ran through you at the idea of owing that asshole anything.
Stopping beside the driver’s side door of your car, you carefully shifted your hold on everything you were carrying, managing to place your water bottle, tumbler of coffee, and shaker bottle onto the top of your car. Glancing down at your car keys, you pressed the button to unlock the doors before sidestepping to the back door and pulling it open. Bending down, you slipped the gym bag off your shoulder and tossed it into the backseat.
Returning to the driver’s side door, you opened it and began moving the three different drinks from the roof of your car and transferring them into the cupholders in the center console. Once you’d finished, you settled down into your seat with a tired sigh, annoyed that Teller’s stunt last night had kept you awake for so long. It was already bad enough that the Sons’ sudden appearance last night had initially scared the shit out of you, you hated feeling like Jax had also succeeded in causing you to lose sleep, too.
Pressing the ignition button, you heard the Toyota quietly rumble to life beneath you. But just as you’d begun shifting in your seat, trying to stick your car keys into the side pocket of your biker shorts, something along the dashboard caught your eye. After sliding the keys into your pocket, you reached forward and grabbed the white sheet of paper that’d been sitting innocently there. You suspected it was just an invoice from Teller-Morrow for the new tire and their services, so you were baffled when you saw that it simply contained one line of typed text.
You’re collateral bitch
Brows knitting together as you stared down at the sheet of paper in your hands, you became confused at the three words staring back at you. You were collateral? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Collateral for what?
“What is this?” you muttered to yourself.
The longer you stared at the few typed words on the page, the sooner you began to realize that this must’ve been some stupid little message left to you from Jax. He and his guys did have your car last night, so it only made sense that they’d have been the ones leaving you notes. Apparently sending his minion to deliver his message last night wasn't enough, he needed to leave you this bullshit, too.
But was this meant as some sort of a joke? Was he trying to scare you by leaving cryptic and creepy notes in your car? Or did he somehow mean that you were collateral for the labor and parts he hadn’t charged you for?
“I shouldn’t have taken my car to your stupid garage,” you grumbled at the paper. Crumpling it up into a ball in your hands, you shook your head in irritation. “You just can’t be a civil human being for one second. Fucking jackass.”
You carelessly tossed the crumpled up ball of paper over your shoulder, letting it fall onto the seat behind you. Buckling yourself in, you chose to ignore the pointless message, having every intention to forget about it. Whatever he meant by it, you knew that it was just another way for his dumbass to harass you, and you weren’t in the mood to play into any of his little games with him.
“Slow and controlled,” you encouraged, standing just off to the side of Miriam's reflection in the gym mirror behind you. “Don't focus on the extra weight, focus on the movement. Just give me two more reps.”
Eyes locked onto the steady rise of the dumbbells in Miriam's hands, you watched as she worked through the strain of her muscles and pushed through to finish two more of the bicep curls. A proud smile broke out across your lips when she’d finished, turning and setting both fifteen pound dumbbells down onto the bench beside her with a satisfied huff.
“Now how many almost seventy year old women can do that?” Miriam gloated, slightly breathless.
“Not many,” you agreed, still smiling. “You're doing so well. You've made so much progress in these past few months already.”
“I've noticed my back isn't bothering me like it used to, either,” she said. “And it’s all thanks to you.”
“Oh no,” you replied, holding up a hand and shaking your head. “You're the one putting in all the work, I'm just here bossing you around.”
Miriam hummed a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat as she picked up her water bottle from the floor. She tipped it back and took a long drink while your attention drifted over to the digital clock mounted on the wall. You had a few hours left at the gym before you could go home, and you planned to throw in a quick run once you got back. You'd been slacking on cardio lately because it was your least favorite thing to do.
“How is it that you're still single?”
The corner of your lips twitched into a smile at Miriam's question, your focus returning back to the older woman as she pushed some tufts of white hair away from her sweaty forehead. In her first training session with you, she'd relentlessly tried to set you up with her grandson. She'd gushed about how smart and successful he was through the first three sets of exercises before attempting to seal the deal by showing you his Facebook profile picture. Admittedly he was hot, but you still weren’t interested.
“Because I'm not mentally in a place for relationships,” you reminded her. “And no, I don't want to go on a date with Kevin. You’ve already tried hard enough to push that ship and it has sailed right on by.”
A cheeky grin met your immediate refusal before it faded from her lips, something serious taking its place. “As much as I wouldn't mind you for a granddaughter, I wasn't talking about him,” Miriam said, slowly bending over to set her water bottle back onto the floor. “I just don't understand why you're so adamant to be with anyone.”
“Charming isn't exactly teeming with quality men,” you pointed out. “I'd rather be single than date a cheater, an alcoholic, or an abuser. Or any of the countless men in this town who embody all three awful qualities.”
Turning to look across the gym towards the large windows at the front which overlooked the Sons’ compound, you spotted a handful of leather vests crowded around a table. Smoke rose up in heavy plumes from their cigarettes, creating a gray cloud that hung ominously above the tops of their heads. One golden blonde head in particular was shining blindingly bright beneath the late morning sunlight, and your lip curled back in distaste just as a hand slammed down onto your shoulder.
You startled at the touch, gasping loudly in surprise as your pulse skittered in shock. Miriam covered a hand over her mouth to stifle her quiet laughter as you whipped your head to the side. Dominic–also known to you and everyone around the gym as Beast–grinned gleefully back at you, amused at how he'd managed to startle you. Your shoulders sagged when his hand fell away, your heartbeat beginning to calm when you realized it was just him.
“Was the sneak attack necessary?” you asked him.
He shrugged his shoulders. “You're the one who's jumpy today, Peach. What's with that?”
“I'm not jumpy, you just move far too quiet for a man of your size,” you disagreed. “And you're interrupting my session.”
Miriam turned at the waist, picking up the set of dumbbells again before positioning herself in front of the mirrors. She smiled back at you and Dom, though it was a bit strained from holding the weights.
“I don't mind the interruption,” she assured you. “Ten reps, right?”
“Yeah,” you answered. “At least eight, but I know you can push this last set to ten again.”
Attention returning to Dom, something about the way he was still smiling at you gave you pause. It wasn't his casual, easygoing smile, there was something almost giddy about it, and it raised your suspicion. Glancing back at Miriam, you monitored her form as she worked on her last set of bicep curls before shooting Dom a sidelong look.
“What?” you demanded. “You look like you won a year's worth of free Chipotle. What's with the face?”
He shrugged again as if playing it off, but the smile continued to stretch wider over his mouth. “Nothing,” he answered innocently. “Just seems like you haven't looked at tomorrow's schedule yet. Figured you'd be in a mood by now.”
You blinked slowly back at him, trying to decipher what he was getting at. He wasn't wrong, you hadn’t checked the schedule for tomorrow yet. All it told you was who was working what shifts, which generally never changed since you all had set schedules, along with information about the scheduled group classes and training sessions. You usually gave it a look at the start or the end of your shift depending on the day, but since you'd gotten distracted this morning talking to Donnie–an older gentleman who came in and did quite a few miles on the stationary bikes every morning–you hadn't looked at it yet.
“No,” you said. “Why?”
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Miriam's interest had been piqued. You could tell by how she'd paused between repetitions, the dumbells lingering at her sides as she craned her head towards you both. All it took was one flick of your brow in her direction before she continued on with her exercise, but she shamelessly continued eavesdropping as she did.
“You've got a new trainee on the books,” Dom informed you, that smarmy look still on his face. “Will booked them last night. They specifically requested you for a trial session tomorrow morning.”
Miriam let out a curious noise low in her throat as she continued her bicep curls, her eyes wide with intrigue, but your lips dipped into a disapproving frown. Dom being this gleeful about a new booking who specifically requested you would only be for one of two reasons. Either Will had booked a really hot girl who the whole gym would want to prey on, or it was one of the perverted gym bros thinking he'd shoot his shot while working out alone with you. Which had unfortunately happened a few times already.
“Who is it?” you asked.
“Apparently,” Dom began, slinging an arm over the nearby shoulder press machine and leaning his weight against it, “Juice was raving about how great you are and it sparked some interest from some of the Sons.”
The second you heard Juice’s name, your eyes narrowed into annoyed slits. Dom didn't even need to tell you who'd signed up to train with you after that, because the sinking feeling in your gut already did. There was only one Son who'd request you specifically, and not because they actually wanted to train with you, but because they wanted to torment you.
“The murderous look on your face says you already know it's Jax Teller,” Dom observed.
“I refuse,” you stated, firmly shaking your head. “I'm not doing it. No way in hell will I take him on as a client. Absolutely not.”
Dom tipped his head towards one shoulder, his lips pulling to the side as he shrugged off your tenacious rebuff. Miriam wasn't even hiding her interest now, her eyes darting back between you both as she finished her last few repetitions.
“It’s ultimately your call,” he said. “You've got the right to decline him. And he is a dick. But…”
Your frown deepened as he trailed off. “But what?”
“This is your territory, Peach,” he pointed out. He swept a large hand around the gym to accentuate his point. “I say take him on and put his ass through hell. Run ‘em into the ground. Don't back down to him just because he’s trying to get under your skin. You gotta speak to that asshole in the only way he understands, which means showing him that this place is yours and not his to take from you.”
Crossing your arms over your chest, your lips thinned into a disapproving line as you turned your head, looking back out through the front windows of the gym. Teller’s blonde head was always easy to spot among the others, and you glared so hard through the glass at him that you hoped he could feel it.
Dom unfortunately had a point. Teller only understood the language of the streets, and he was intentionally trying to encroach on your territory as if to prove to you that he still owned every part of Charming–including this gym. Running and hiding from him wasn’t the answer, you needed to show him that you wouldn’t back down when he stepped a toe over the line.
So you needed to forget about not playing his stupid games. If he wanted a fight, you'd push back against him.
“Fine,” you bitterly replied, still glaring at the back of his head across the street. “I'll put him through the paces. Doubt his ego would let him back down no matter how hard I work him.”
Dom pushed off of where he was leaning against the workout machine, a triumphant grin spreading over his face as he crossed the distance towards you. He tipped his chin at you, pride gleaming in his dark eyes as he reached out and lightly knocked a fist into your shoulder.
“That's our Princess Peach,” he said. “Fuck ‘em up.” He shot Miriam an apologetic look when she frowned at him, a sheepish expression quickly taking over his face. “Sorry, Mrs. Whitman.”
Miriam huffed as Dom turned and headed back towards the front desk in the gym, shaking her head as she carried the dumbbells back to the weight rack next to you. Quirking a brow at her, you wondered what that'd been about. She wasn't usually so affected by swearing.
“Shame about that Teller boy,” she said, setting her weights back in place. She turned back around, a dip in the corner of her mouth. “He never used to be so…combative when he was younger.”
“I find that rather difficult to believe,” you muttered.
“He was kinder,” she pressed. “Had this sweet girl he used to date, too. And, well,” she paused, laughing a little to herself, “they were a little wild back then, got into some trouble. But what teenagers don’t?”
Miriam quieted, her eyes narrowing as she stood in front of the weight rack suddenly studying you with a strange intensity. You shifted uncomfortably beneath her scrutiny, not particularly wanting any further discussion about Teller. Especially not anything to do with his love life–past, present, or future.
“You remind me a little of her, you know,” she said after a moment. “The way you push back against him. Not something you usually see around Charming.”
“Well someone needs to knock him down a few notches,” you said. Gesturing your head to the side, you motioned her towards the cable machine across the gym. “C'mon, tricep extensions are next.”
Miriam followed after you, picking up her water bottle as she passed where it sat on the floor by the bench. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her wiping sweat from her brow with her forearm, noting how even her breath still sounded. You'd been honest earlier, she was improving.
“Just a shame,” Miriam repeated sullenly. “That club changed him. Turned him into something nearly unrecognizable from the young man I remember seeing around town.”
You snorted in response, walking past a row of chest machines. “I'll be honest,” you told her, “I've got no sympathy for the devil, Mrs. Whitman. Now let's talk about upping your weights on tricep extensions, because I think you're on a roll today.”
By the time you reached the bottom of your driveway, you were entirely out of breath. Sweat rolled down the back of your shirt in multiple trails, each one tracing a damp line down your spine. Your sports bra was drenched after your run, the fabric clinging uncomfortably snug against your skin with each gasp you took for air.
Panting as you tried to even out your breathing, your hands landed on your hips while you started up your driveway. You craved the spray of a cool shower and a chance to get your mind right for tomorrow morning since you’d be stuck training Jax Teller for an entire miserable hour. You needed to go through a nice haircare and skincare routine, eat a good dinner, and watch something relaxing before you went to bed tonight. You would do whatever it took to get you in the mindset to let all of his taunts and disgusting comments roll right off of you. Because come tomorrow morning, you wanted the upper hand against him.
Shuffling up the driveway past your Toyota, your tired feet struggled to carry you up towards the front door. The muscles in your legs might’ve begun steadily losing that burning sensation you always got at the peak of your run, but that was just slowly easing into a persistent dull ache instead. But as you passed the driver's side of your car, something white tucked beneath your windshield wiper caught your attention.
Stopping just beside the side mirror, your face scrunched up in confusion at the folded slip of paper that hadn’t been there when you’d left. Leaning over the hood of your car, you plucked the paper out from underneath it. Still breathing heavily as you straightened, you unfolded the page to discover another note with a single line of typed print.
Time's almost up gym whore
Eyes narrowing down at the paper in your hands, you recalled the note you'd found inside of your car earlier this morning. Was this another stupid prank message from Teller threatening you?
“Two in one day?” you muttered irritably to yourself. “Seriously man?”
Beginning to crumple the paper into a ball in your hands, you shook your head at the absurdity. Would he really stoop so low as to leave you threats like this? Was this truly his twisted idea of a joke?
With the paper balled up in your fist, you continued the rest of the way up your driveway and towards the front door. You slipped your keyring out of the pocket of your sweaty biker shorts, chest still heaving as your breathing gradually began to even out. But as you slipped the key into your door, you were surprised to see that it was already unlocked. Brows creasing together, you hesitated for a minute, staring down at the doorknob. You usually never forgot to lock your door, even if you’d only just gone on a run for a few minutes.
Shaking your head, you figured maybe this time you'd rushed out the door a little too fast because you’d wanted to get your cardio out of the way. You'd need to be more careful next time and make sure that you locked the door after yourself. As you stepped inside and turned around to shut the door after yourself, you paused when you spotted a black, windowless van parked down the street.
You hesitated in the doorway as an unexplainable prickle of fear bristled the hairs along the nape of your neck. That van had been sitting there when you’d first left your house, and so had the man sitting in the driver's seat. You'd been gone for only fifteen minutes on your run, so it seemed rather strange that he was still just sitting in a parked car not doing anything. A parked car that you'd never noticed on your street before today.
Nervously wetting your dry lips, you quickly closed the front door the rest of the way, making sure to immediately lock the deadbolt afterwards. Maybe this was all just a part of some elaborate prank from Teller, or maybe you were just overreacting because of the stupid notes you’d found from him today, but something about that van left you feeling unsettled.
summary: Everything has finally reached a boiling point. Her and Jax can no longer ignore the fire burning for one another.
word count: 2.5k
pairings: Jax x Reader
warnings/tags: 18+ only. MDNI. Enemies to lovers. Heavy kissing. Language. Sexual tension. Oral (f&m receiving). P in V (unprotected- no glove no love). Dirty talk. Pet names. Rough sex. Cocky Jax. Multiple orgasms. Forced orgasm if ya squint.
a/n: omg it feels so good to finally get this chapter out. This is the breaking point, but there will be more to come. I missed writing this and I hope everyone is still interested, haha
series masterlist | main masterlist
“Fuck,” he whispered and rested the tip of his nose against yours. “Tell me to stop right now, darlin’.”
“No chance.”
Jackson’s mouth crashed into yours with a roughness you hadn’t ever experienced. You raised your eyebrows before melting into his kiss.
He was not gentle, not even close. He was desperate, almost angry as his teeth and tongue collided with yours, stealing the breath right from your lungs. Any fight that you had left in you was long gone now. You were done, reduced to a surrendered heap in his arms.
His hands grabbed your hips, forcing your t-shirt up just enough to expose the soft and tender flesh that his fingers were now digging into. Jax pulled you closer into him by the back of your head, his fingers entwining with your hair. You moaned loudly into his mouth, and he quickly broke the kiss, looking down at you with that cocky, arrogant grin.
"Liar," Jax growled against your lips as he leaned in closer to you. One hand slid up your flank, the other gripped even tighter into your hair. He quickly yanked your head back, exposing your throat. He slowly, and torturously peppered warm, wet kisses down your neck. His teeth gently grazed from your throat, and over to the thick vein where your pulse was pounding out of your flesh.
"You been lyin' this whole time, darlin’." he said against your beating pulse, his warm breath against your sensitive skin made the hairs on the back of your neck rise.
You really wanted to argue with him, to push back a little more, to tease him a little more. You enjoyed this game the two of you had, pretending to hate each other, but deep down the flames in your belly burned hotter every time you had seen him. You had two choices. Keep pushing away, or to give in.
Your body made that choice for you as your hips rolled against his. You needed friction, movement, something. Against your will, a small shriek came out of your mouth and he replied with a grunt and a snicker, his arrogance getting inflated with each second that passed.
"Tell me. sweetie," he said with a grunt, his strong hand sliding down the small of your back and down further to tightly squeeze your ass. The two of you were nose to nose now, as he gently grazed your bottom lip with his teeth. "C’mon,” Jax grinned. “Tell me you don't want me."
But you couldn’t.
All you could do was cling to him, moaning as he snaked his hand up your belly over your shirt, slowly until he reached your breasts. He palmed over the fabric, his thumb rubbing over your nipple until it hardened into a firm nub against your shirt. "Jax..." was all you could manage. You were a breathless wreck against him.
"Thought so.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, and there was a dark arrogant satisfaction that flickered in his blue eyes. Without warning, he scooped you up with one arm under your knees and the other around your back. As if you weighed nothing, Jax strode towards your bedroom, and you giggled as your wrapped your legs around his waist. He pushed your bedroom open with his broad shoulder, and tumbled onto the bed with you in his arms.
Jackson’s firm weight pressed you into the mattress as it dipped down under you. His hips softly grinded against yours, and you could feel how hard he was through his denim. A warm jolt of electricity coursed through your veins, and directly to your core.
Jax sat up just enough to yank his kutte off and toss it aside, then his shirt followed. His body was picturesque and beautiful. You couldn’t help but admire his physique as you traced the contours of his muscles and the ink on his chest. He watched you with lust filled eyes before reaching down and grabbing the hem of your shirt.
“Your turn,” he said as he gently pulled it off of you. His rough and calloused hands running along your smooth skin made your entire body fill with goosebumps. He noticed, but didn't say anything, he just smirked at you.
"Fuck," he breathed, lowering himself down to take one of the swollen buds into his mouth. You arched into him in response, your fingers threading through his blonde locks as he sucked a lapped at your tender nipple. He palmed your other breast with his free hand and you were writhing and squirming underneath him.
He kissed his way down your stomach, leaving a trail of wet saliva in his wake. He took his time, sucking, nibbling, and kissing until he reached the waistband of your jeans. You held your breath the entire time, nervous for what was going to happen next, but excited. He stopped once he reached your waist, looking up at you with a dark wickedness that immediately made a warm wetness pool in your panties.
“You gonna tell me to stop?" He asked with that evil grin that you loved so much.
All you could do was breathlessly shake your head.
Jax took a deep breathe and muttered “mhm” as he removed your jeans and panties quicker than you thought possible. He roughly tugged them off, leaving you feeling bare and exposed.
He sat back on his heels, letting his gaze roam over you and a low hum escaped his mouth.
"Awwww,” he cooed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Look at you," he said, and you couldn’t tell if he was being sympathetic, or degrading, or both.
"All exposed f’me like this,” he grunted as he coerced your legs open at the knees. “Been wantin’ this forever, darlin’.”
Your blood ran warm, and before you could even respond, you felt two fingers scissoring along your soft pussy lips. You arched up higher, bringing your mound closer to his lips, silently begging him for more. Jax’s breath was warm against your swollen bundle of nerves, but he still wasn’t close enough.
“Look at you,” he murmured. "Already so wet for me, darlin'," he murmured, dragging one finger through your slit, closer to your sex. Your breath hitched once more when he brought the pad of his finger to his lips. "Tastes so goddamn sweet."
And finally, he dove in, gently sucking and nibbling on your swollen clit. He started off soft, and slow, and before long, he was eating you out like a man starved.
“Fuck!” You shrieked, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping at the pillows. It wasn’t going to be long before you came completely undone beneath him.
He was skilled, and ruthless as he lapped up your juices in long flat strokes before taking your clit back in his mouth. You cried out, bucking against his face, but his hands clamped down on your hips, holding you down.
You were a shuddering mess, but he wanted more. He slowly circled two digits around your dripping hole before entering then inch by inch.
"Please, Jax," you gasped, begging for him to not stop.
He heard your pleas and curled his two fingers up to hit that perfect spot.
Jax stopped licking to look up at you through his long lashes.
"You like that, darlin'?" he asked, pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue went back to the assault on your clit.
“Yes,” you whimpered. “Please, Jax.”
"Feels so tight around my fingers,” he groaned against your cunt. “Bet that pussy's gonna feel even better around my cock."
His voice alone was enough to put you over the edge. And you were close. So fucking close that the pressure in your belly was building like a tightly coiled spring. And he knew. He felt it. And we wasn’t going to stop, so he entered a third finger into your cunt, picking up the pace, working you faster and faster. Stretching you, and fucking you with his fingers.
"Cum for me," he growled against you. “Need to feel you cum on my fingers baby.”
And just like that, the tight spring in your belly released and your body and cunt convulsed. A quiet shriek tore from your throat as your walls pulsated around his fingers.
“That’s it,” he praised, working you through your aftershocks. “Atta girl, cumming so hard f’me arentcha?”
He worked you more gently through the aftershocks, not stopping until he knew you were done.
“Good girl,” he whispered as he crawled up your torso, snaking his slick covered hands along your skin. Once he made his way to your face, he kissed you deeply, and you could taste your arousal on his tongue.
"Your turn," he said, his voice rough with need.
He slid on the bed next to you and you planted one more kiss on his lips as you straddled his thighs. You were struggling with his button and zipper, your hands still trembling from your orgasm.
“Here, baby,” he said, quickly flicking his fly open for you. With a lift of his hips you gently pulled his jeans and boxers down and when his cock flung free, your jaw dropped. It was hard, thick and heavy.
“Jax…” you muttered in surprise and gripped the base tightly. You gently stroked and ran your fingertips up his shaft.
“Don’t tease,” he warned with a grin. “Be a good girl.”
You whimpered at his dominance as you leaned down to press a kiss on his velvety head, down his shaft.
His hands fisted in the sheets, and the sight of him undone sent a thrill through you. You wanted to tease him a little more, and you slowly took him in your mouth little by little. You could feel his muscles tightening as he groaned with pleasure.
"Fuck," he hissed, one hand tangling in your hair. "Just like that, baby. Goddamn."
You hollowed your cheeks, swirling your tongue around his cock. You were slow and controlled at first, but then you picked up the base. Jax’s hips involuntarily bucked, forcing his cock deeper down your throat. You gagged just a little bit at the intrusion. Once his cock was slick from your saliva, you gently stroked his shaft while sucking the tip.
Spit was beginning to pool in the webbing of your fingers, and Jax wasn’t sure how much he could take.
He let you work for another moment before gently pulling you off, pulling you up to lie down beside him.
"As much as I love that mouth," he said, rolling you over on your belly. "I gotta be inside you."
Before you knew it, he was behind you, nudging your thighs apart with his knees. Jax lined himself up with your entrance, gently rubbing it along your folds. You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you.
“Jax,” you whined, and he chuckled in response.
"I knew you wanted me," he murmured against your back, his voice a low drone of arrogance and need.
He pushed inside you in one smooth, deep stroke, and you both groaned in unison. He filled you completely, stretching you out in the most euphoric way. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust, then started to pick up the pace.
Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as the veins of his cock massaged your inner walls, the velvety head massaging you g-spot.
“Fuck,” you cried out.
"Look at you, takin' me so good," he said, his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust. "This pussy's made for me, aint it baby?"
The only response you could muster was a whine and a moan. Your fingers gripped the sheets so tight that your fingernails were leaving half moon imprints on your palms.
“F-fuck,” you responded. “Y-yeah, Jax.”
The angle was devastating as Jax was hitting spots you didn't even know existed. To add insult to injury, he reached around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles while he pounded you.
“Jax!” You yelled, the pleasure completely taking over. Every nerve ending in your body tingles. "I'm gonna cum again," you cried, your voice breaking.
"That's right, darlin'. Cum for me. Let me feel it."
Another orgasm crashed through you like electricity. It was even more intense than before, and your walls were massaging his cock.
“Fuck,” he grunted as he quickly pulled out, flipping you over on your back and lifting one leg over his shoulder. You couldn’t speak, you could hardly move. Your eyes were half shut, and he leaned in to breathe in the scent of your sweat.
“Look atchu,” he cooed. “All cock drunk f’me, darlin’.”
He slid back into you with ease, getting even deeper than before. Each stroke he managed to get deeper and deeper, hitting your cervix with each thrust.
“Ah, fuck,” you winced, having a hard time decided if it was pleasure or pain you were feeling.
"One more," he said, his voice breathy and tired. “I want one more.”
Jax leaned down again, capturing your mouth in a rough and bruising kiss, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his hips. Snaking his hand down your sweaty torso, and between your legs, he found your clit once more. You twitched and grabbed his hand, unsure if you can take anymore.
“Jax, please,” you whined, digging your fingertips into his hands.
“Nuh uh,” he said, using his free hand to remove the grip you had on him before rubbing your swollen clit, hard and fast. “You got this baby.”
You cried out, his thrusts not easing up, the rough circles on your tender bundle getting even faster.
“Fuck,” you cried out. Your body tensed and arched and you felt that familiar coil form quicker now.
"I can feel you tightenin'," he said against your lips. "Such a greedy little pussy. You love bein' fucked like this, don't you?"
You nodded, tears of pleasure burning your eyes. "Yes, yes, yes…."
"Then cum. Now."
Your mind and body obeyed, convulsing and spasming around him.
“Thassa good girl.”
He quickly followed suit, his hips stuttering as he spilled his warm seed inside of you. A guttural groan escaped his throat as he slumped against you. You both were breathing heavily, both slick with sweat.
After a moment, he shifted, finally pulling out and collapsing beside you. Now, it was quiet, heavy. You weren’t sure if you should feel awkward or comfortable. But the silence… the silence was making you nervous. Until you turned your head to look at him to find him slumped in your pillows, his face relaxed and eyes closed.
"Still don't want me?" he asked, a lazy smirk curling his lips.
You laughed, and gently slapped his bare chest. "Shut up."
He pulled you close, tucking you against his side. You couldn’t help but sink into him and nuzzle into his chest.
The fight was still there, simmering under the surface, but for now, it was quiet. And you had a feeling that once tomorrow came, things were going to be very different.
