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But I'm a Good Girl || PJS

Synopsis: Your sheriff husband really knows how to properly treat a woman.

Pairing: sheriff!Jay x wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, p in v, unprotected sex (not for you), oral (f and m receiving), face sitting, use of aphrodisiac (m), fingering, finger sucking ig?, pussy slapping, spanking, thigh riding, semi public sex, exhibitionism, breeding kink eyyy, edging, mating press, garter stuff, dom!Jay, sub!reader, rough sex, cumming inside (we gettin pregnant yall), me and my attempt at romance, mention of food

A/N: and thus we have the second installment of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang! yall know I am unable to write a jay fic without involving breeding in it so this one is for all my girlies who are ovulating. Shoutout as always to my child @wichujunseo who is the reason I included mating press ehehehe. as always, enjoy, my sweethearts!

Word Count: 11.5k (me and my urge to write dialogue)

Series Masterlist

You loved your husband.

Who wouldn't, after all? Maybe except for the crooks and calumnious cowboys of the town, everybody loved your husband. The town sheriff, five feet and ten inches of pure muscle packed into that tight little uniform of his, badge shining on his chest as his leather boots stamped on hardwood floors like he owned the very air; the first time you saw him in that entire get up, the brim of his hat accentuating his sharp eyes, his sharp jaw locked right as he fiddled with his tie, you nearly fainted (ignore how it was the hottest day of summer that day).

But unfortunately, being the town sheriff meant he would rarely ever be yours.

Only yours, even for the span of a cicada’s song.

Yours to kiss and laugh with, yours to leave marks all over, yours to be absolutely destroyed by in the bedroom. It had been almost two months now since you had him properly. Two painful, sexless months. What was a woman supposed to do?

You tried not to resent the badge, telling yourself it isn’t its fault or the town’s or the emergencies that always seemed to happen just as he walked through the door, hat barely off his head before someone’s knocking again. Worst part was he forbade you from visiting him at the station, too scared you’d get hurt because of some or the other crook.

But sometimes, deep into the melancholic night, when his side of the bed was still cold, you remembered how it used to be.

You were barely more than kids when you got married. Too young, the older women whispered. Too reckless, the men at the bar said. But you had looked at Jay standing there in that simple suit—nervous, smiling too wide, hands shaking when he held yours—and you knew he was your Orpheus.

He used to laugh more back then too, a bright, easy laugh that filled rooms. He’d steal you away in the middle of the day just to walk by the creek. He’d tip his hat low and pretend to be some grand outlaw sweeping you off your feet. You’d cook together in your kitchen, bumping into each other on purpose, arguing over salt and laughing before the argument could even start.

If he rode out, you rode with him. If he fixed fences, you handed him nails. If you sat on the porch swing at sunset, his hand would find yours without looking, like it belonged there.

You were young, so painfully, beautifully young. And in love, in that uncomplicated way where nothing else mattered.

You were inseparable, the perfect example of love.

Love is anything but perfect.

Now you sat on that same porch alone some evenings. The wood creaked the same, the sunsets were still gold, but the space beside you felt wider. Jay still kissed your forehead when he left in the mornings, still told you he’d be home soon, still called you “darling’” in that low voice that made your stomach flip.

But it’s different. He’s tired now. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes some days. When he came home, he’d collapse into a chair instead of your arms. You’d talk about supper, supplies, the weather—practical things, necessary things, safe things.

And you started to wonder. Did he still look at you the way he used to? Or did he see an obligation, a routine when he saw you now?

You hated yourself for even thinking about it. But doubt is a quiet, persistent thing. It slipped in when the house was too quiet. When another week passed with only brief touches and half-finished conversations. You found yourself staring at your reflection sometimes, wondering if you’ve changed. Maybe it wasn't that he loved you less. Maybe it was that he was afraid.

Afraid to bring the weight of his job home. Afraid to let you see the things he saw. Afraid that if he let himself relax, even for a second, something would fall apart. You remember how young you both were—how fearless. How sure that love alone was enough to carry you through anything.

Now the love was still there. You felt it in the way he paused at the door and looked back at you, just for a second longer than necessary. In the way his hand lingered on your waist when he passed. In the way he softened when you said his name quietly at night.

But you still missed him.

Your Jay.

How cruel the world was to take him away from the softness.

“I keep telling you—” Your neighbour laughed as she hung up laundry, “—all you need is one magical garment to get your husband back.”

“I am not wearing that old thing.” You scoffed, handing her a wet cardigan, “What’s gonna happen anyway? He’ll see me in it and suddenly drop to his knees?”

“Precisely.” She laughed, turning to you, placing her hands on her hips, “Just trust me this one time, and you’ll get your husband back this very night.” You rolled your eyes but your mind still drifted.

The white silk garter.

You hadn’t touched it in years. It had been tucked away carefully after your wedding night, folded with ridiculous tenderness as though it were made of spun glass instead of silk. You remember how young you’d been—how your hands trembled, how Jay’s did too, though he’d tried so hard to look confident. You remember the laughter more than anything. The way you both kept breaking into nervous grins like children pretending to be grown.

You cleared your throat and crossed your arms. “It’s old now.”

“So is your marriage, honey.” Your neighbor shot back, “And I’ve never given you bad advice to this day, have I?”

“What if I put it on and he doesn’t even notice?” You leaned closer, lowering your voice dramatically.

“He’ll notice.” She insisted. “Men are simple creatures. Especially when silk is involved.”

“Is that so?” You laughed as you put the laundry basket down, “You really do get the wildest ideas when you’re not over at the bakery.” You said, inviting her over for a glass of water at your house. These were rare days that you got to hang out with her, on days she didn't open her bakery.

“Come on, show it to me at least!” She said, leaning back against your kitchen counter with her arms crossed. You snorted despite yourself, nonetheless inviting her up to your bedroom. Her eyes went wide as you opened your closet, pulling out the little piece from some forgotten corner.

“Oh. My. God.” She gasped, making you laugh.

“I keep forgetting how young you are.” You ran your fingers over the garter.

White silk, slightly yellowed at the edges, delicate lace stitched along the top; and suddenly you’re twenty again—heart racing, cheeks flushed, believing that nothing in the world could ever wedge itself between you and the man who looked at you like you were the only thing that existed.

You sat on the edge of the bed, garter in your hands, and wondered if this was foolish—if a scrap of silk could compete with whatever weight he carried home in silence.

“You’re considering it aren't you?” Your neighbour said slowly, lips curling.

“I’m considering burning it,” You retorted, though your ears were warm, “If this doesn’t work, I’m blaming you for the rest of my natural life.”

“It’ll work.” She said confidently, grinning like she had won something.

“You are impossible.” You grinned.

But for the first time in weeks, something inside you felt less heavy, less afraid and more like that reckless, hopeful bride who once believed love could conquer anything.

Maybe tonight, you’d remind him of her.

_________________

Park Jongseong considered himself to be an alright man.

Alright in the sense that he actually considered himself to be a fucked up piece of shit who couldn’t even spare a second for his treasure of a wife. Life had gotten so busy nowadays that he couldn't remember the last time he spun you around in the kitchen, held you in his arms and kissed you all over.

Most nights, he came home late, right when the clock struck ten. You’d already be dead asleep on the bed, turned away from him, hair falling over your face to frame it in the most ethereal way ever. One day he came home to find you on the couch, apron still on and a cold cherry pie on the table; Jay wanted to be struck down by lightning right there and then.

His wife.

His beautiful, amazing wife, who had stuck by his side even when he wasn't the sheriff he was now.

And this was how he treated you.

Jay paused outside the door, a habit he’d always had, standing there on the ‘welcome home’ mat for a second before stepping inside, as if shedding the outside world from his shoulders before fully crossing into his home.

The house was quiet—lamps turned low, curtains drawn against the night, the air thick with the faint scent of…..lavender oil? Jay felt as if he were transported back to the night of his wedding, when your bedroom was all lavender, roses and some good fucking sex.

His hat came off first and then a quiet exhale as he threw his boots off.

“Darling?” He called, voice tired but still warm.

“In here, Jay.” You answered, from somewhere in the living room. Jay stepped into the living room, unbuttoning one cuff absently. Something kept swelling in his chest, was it the amazing scent wafting through the house?

“You’re still up darling? I thought you’d—”

And then he looked up.

And then the world stopped.

You had seen Jay angry. You had seen him determined, gentle, amused, even broken in the privacy of your arms after a particularly hard day. You had never seen him freeze like that, his hand frozen still mid-motion.

The fatigue vanished from his face so suddenly it almost startled you. His eyes, those sharp, steady eyes that intimidated half the town, widened in a way that made him look almost boyish. They narrowed with heat as he took you in, from the way the fabric clung to your breasts down to the way your hair came loose at some places.

“Hi honey.” You said sheepishly, toying with the fabric of your nightgown.

You had stood by the mirror for a total of fifteen minutes, making adjustments to every inch of your body. You’d pinned your hair up the way you used to in those early days, soft curls escaping on purpose.

The gown itself was a simple, flowing thing in pale ivory, sheer enough in the right light to hint at the curves beneath without giving everything away. You remembered how his eyes had darkened when you'd worn it before, how his hands had roamed all over like he was tracing a map.

And beneath it all, known only to you, was that thin band of white silk. It was delicate, the lace edges soft against your skin, hugging your thigh just below the hem. You’d added a touch of perfume, the one he always said smelled like home and waited in the living room, the soft glow of the lamp casting warm shadows across the space.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You felt heat suddenly creep up your neck. What the actual fuck were you doing?

“You’re staring.” You managed softly.

Your heart picked up pace as you ran your gaze over him in his uniform shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the corded muscles of his forearms. His dark hair was tousled, and a day's stubble shadowed his jaw. You saw the movement of his throat, the tightening of his jaw as though he were grounding himself.

“Can a man not look at his wife now?” The way he said it made your heart stutter, as he closed the distance slowly, “You look…” He stopped, eyes tracing you as though committing every detail to memory. “I don’t even have the right word.”

Jay’s hands found your waist, pulling you against him, and you felt the immediate hardness pressing into your belly. “What's all this, sweetheart?”

“Nothing much.” You avoided his gaze, looking down at your fingers, “Just thought I should remind the sheriff he has a wife.”

Your hand slid down slowly to palm his hard cock through his hands. It had him graining, his hips bucking forward seeking more of your glorious touch. You smirked at the massive tent in his pants, before leaning in to brush your lips against the shell of your ears.

“You were gone for so long. Might as well have fucked someone else in this town.” You whispered, feeling his grip on your waist tighten, “Who’s gonna resist this pretty body anyway?”

You pulled back, still avoiding his gaze, but the bruising pressure of his calloused hands on your waist told you everything you needed to know.

Jay’s hands came up slowly to your chin, his calendar index finger resting underneath it, and then tilting your head up. You had to hold yourself back from humping against his length when you saw his face, brows slightly raised, his tongue poking the inner walls of his cheek as if to ask ‘how dare you?’

“No answer, husband?” You slowly inserted his finger in your mouth, sucking on it and then pulling it free, “Well then I guess I have to—”

You barely had time to pull back before his mouth was on yours, hot and demanding. His tongue pushed past your lips to tangle with yours as he backed you up against the wall, pinning you there with his body. One of his hands slid up to fist in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss further.

“What was that sweetheart?” Jay grunted into the kiss, “Who’s gonna resist this pretty body?” His free hand slid down to grab your ass, squeezing hard as he ground his cock against you. You could feel it throbbing, begging to be let out and buried deep inside you. The thought made you whimper, your own arousal growing as he marked you with his mouth and hands.

“Well this pretty body,” He nipped at your bottom lip hard enough to sting, “is mine.” He pulled back just enough to stare down at you with dark, heated eyes.

You tilted your head up, meeting his stare with a playful pout. “Why don’t you come claim it then hm?” Your fingers trailed up his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath the shirt, “You still haven't apologised by the way. For keeping me lonely all these days.”

“Oh trust me.” Jay’s chuckle was low and promising, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips through the thin fabric, “I’ll show you how sorry I am, darling.” He gave your ass a light squeeze as he kissed your neck, sucking a dark bruise onto your skin as he rocked against you.

His lips brushed your forehead, then your temple, before capturing your mouth in a deep kiss. It started slow and apologetic, but quickly turned hungry, his tongue sliding against yours as he backed you toward the hallway leading to the bedroom. He tasted faintly of bourbon, getting your senses drunk, though he hadn't touched you properly yet.

Jay scooped you up in his arms, muscles flexing against his shirt as he did. Your legs wrapped around his waist like a choreographed routine as he carried you down the hall. The bedroom door was already ajar and he kicked in shut behind him, the room bathed in soft moonlight.

“Look so beautiful like this.” Jay muttered, before laying you down on the sheets with infinite care, your gown pooling it around you like a whisper. His eyes roamed over your body, drinking in the sight of you, before his hands traced the hem of your nightgown, pushing it up to expose your legs.

‘I’m the luckiest man in the world.’ He thought, as his eyes caught sight of the white fabric hugging your thigh. Jay wanted to tear that thing right off with his teeth, memories of your first night together flashing in his mind.

“You really went all out, yeah darling?” Jay said, cupping your cheek in his hand, you nuzzled into it, “I’m so sorry sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead, “I’m so sorry I left you all by yourself.” Then your temple, “Won’t ever do it again, alright?” And then your neck, all the way down to your chest.

With a reverent touch, Jay explored your body like a country he had forgotten he’d discovered, his hands mapping every dip and swell with a tenderness that belied the passion burning within him. You gasped and writhed beneath him, lost in a sea of sensation as he stoked the fires of your desire higher and higher.

“Jay…” You whined, “Want you soooo bad.”

“I know, darling.” One large hand settled on your hip, fingers splaying possessively over the curve where your gown had ridden up, exposing your skin to the cool air. He traced lazy shapes there—swirling patterns, perhaps hearts or initials, you couldn't quite tell through the haze of contentment—with the pad of his thumb, the touch feather-light and soothing.

“You remember that thing we used to do?” Jay said, his voice thick. He leaned in, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh, until his breath ghosted over your panties. You were already wet, the anticipation building since you'd dressed for him, and he could tell. “That thing where you’d sit your pretty little ass down on my face?”

Jay gripped your thighs with the force of a thousand suns, yanking you towards him as he sat on his knees on the bed. The action sent a sharp shiver scores your flesh, of arousal and deep affection. You’d only done that thing once before, refusing to do it ever again in fear that you’d break his neck. But the ever loving man your husband was—death by your thighs sounded positively spectacular.

“You’re gonna sit on my face and I’m gonna show you how sorry I am, yeah?” Your breath hitched at the command, but you nodded, shifting back on the bed as he stripped off his shirt, revealing the broad expanse of his chest and his carved muscles.

Jay laid down, propping his head on the pillows, and tugged at your hips. You straddled his face, the nightgown bunching around your waist, the garter still snug on your thigh.

“Seong, you sure?” You asked, you breath coming hard, “I don’t want to—”

His hands gripped your ass and Jay pulled you down until your pussy pressed against his mouth through the thin fabric of your panties.

“Jay!” You whined high at the sudden movement, grasping at his hair to support yourself. Now you were reminded of the reason you married this man.

Jay’s tongue flicked out, tracing the outline of you, and you gasped, one hand bracing on the headboard. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and yanked them aside, exposing your slick folds.

And then his mouth was on you, hot and insistent, his tongue lapping at your clit in broad, flat strokes. You moaned, rocking against him, the sensation overwhelming right from the start.

“Fuckkkk you taste exactly the same.” He murmured against your skin, “So damn sweet—feel like cherry pie darlin’.”

His tongue flattened and lapped at your dripping slit, dragging up from your entrance to your clit in one long stroke. The sensation hit you hard—wet heat sliding over your sensitive skin, making your hips buck involuntarily. Pleasure sparked through your core, sharp and insistent, your pussy clenching around nothing as you craved to be filled.

“Oh–oh Jay right there right there!” You cried, grinding down harder, thighs trembling as he sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue circling it with expert precision. He knew every inch of your pussy better than you did, and god did that make you want to marry him all over again.

“Thaaat’s it baby.” His own arousal spiked at you flooded his mouth with your slickness, “Ride my face like you mean it, gotta show my pretty wife how much I missed her.”

Jay was already rock hard, pre-cum leaking from his tip, obsessed with devouring your cunt before he claimed it. He was relentless, alternating between gentle licks and firm suction, slurp slurp slurp, his stubble scraping deliciously against your sensitive inner thighs. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groaned in approval, the sound rumbling through you.

It didn't take long for the pleasure to build, coiling tight in your belly. You were sensitive tonight, your body primed from the neglect of the past weeks, and Jay knew exactly how to push you. His hands kneaded your ass, one finger dipping lower to tease your entrance, sliding in just enough to make you whimper.

“Oh god—Jay I’m close.” But he already knew from the way your pussy was clenching like she was talking to him, “F-Feel so goooood…”

He hummed, not letting up, his tongue delving into you now, fucking you with it while his thumb rubbed your clit. The orgasm hit you like a wave against a sinking ship, your body shuddering as you cried out, pussy clenching around nothing. Jay kept licking, softer now but persistent, drawing out the aftershocks until they bordered on too much.

“Wait—ahh ah—Jay, too much!” You panted, trying to lift off of him, but his strong arms locked around your thighs, holding you in place.

“Not done apologizing yet, darling.” He said, his mouth latching back onto your clit.

He sucked harder, his tongue flicking rapidly, the overstimulation was making your nerves sing with a mix of pleasure and ache. Tears pricked your eyes as another climax built, faster this time, your body betraying you under his skilled assault.

“So damn sensitive.” He muttered, “Haven’t trained her enough, have I?”

“Could have if you were ever home.” You mumbled low enough, but of course your sharp-eared husband heard you, now sucking your clit into his mouth like a starved man, rolling it between his lips. You cried out, the suction pulling a fresh gush of wetness from you, which he lapped up greedily.

You came again, harder, your thighs clamping around his head as you sobbed his name. Still, he didn't relent, his tongue tracing lazy patterns over your swollen folds, lapping up your release like he couldn't get enough.

“Please….Jay—I can’t…’s too much Jay!” You begged, your voice breaking, but there was a bratty edge to it, a challenge because part of you wanted to see how far he'd go.

He finally released you, his face glistening with your arousal as you collapsed beside him, chest heaving. Jay wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction and something darker.

“You’re really gonna make me work for it huh darling?” His laugh was dark, and he flipped you onto your back in one smooth motion, pinning you beneath his weight, “This your revenge or somethin?”

The nightgown rode up completely now, the garter the only thing left between you and total exposure. Jay's hands roamed your body, rough and possessive, cupping your breasts through the silk before shoving the gown up to your neck. He leaned down, sucking a nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to make you arch.

“Maybe it is.” You bit your lip, nodding defiantly, though your body was still buzzing from the overstimulation, “You’ve got a lot to make up for, sheriff.”

You knew what it did to him when he heard you call him that. And you also knew what it got you.

“Brat.” He murmured against your skin, his hand sliding down to cup your pussy

You were soaked, sensitive from his earlier attentions, and his fingers slipped easily through your folds. He circled your clit once, twice, making you gasp, then pulled away just as the pleasure crested. “Brats don’t get to cum that easy, sweetheart.”

“Jay please…” You whined, hips bucking up, but he held you down, his palm pressing flat against your mound.

“Please what, beautiful?” He slapped your pussy lightly, the sting sending a jolt straight to your core. You yelped, the sensation sharp and arousing, your clit throbbing under the impact.

“Fuck me.” You demanded, your voice laced with that bratty tone you knew drove him wild, “Please fuck me, sheriff. I’ll be a good girl, I swear.”

“Begging already are we?” He slapped your clit again, harder this time, and you moaned, your legs spreading wider instinctively, “You sound just as angelic as you did our first time, my dearest.” His words ignited something within you. Jay had always been a poet.

Your husband stripped off the rest of his clothes, his cock now free, thick and hard, the tip already leaking pre-cum. He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the head against your entrance, coating himself in your wetness.

With one thrust, he buried himself inside you, streeetching your walls around his girth. You cried out, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours. Pain lingered at the edges, a delicious sting that heightened the sensations, making every inch of him feel more intense, as he set a punishing rhythm.

Just right for a brat.

“Pussy’s made—hah—for me.” The words sent a thrill through you, your arousal spiking, wetness squelching around him, “Fits me like a fuckin’ glove.”

“Oh—ohhh so biggg.” You moan loud, your heart pounding against its cage. You certainly forgot how big your husband was, and he was certainly hell bent on reminding you.

He angled his thrusts, grinding his pelvis against your clit with every stroke, building you up fast. You felt the orgasm approaching, your pussy fluttering around him, but just as you teetered on the edge, he stopped, buried deep but completely still.

“Jayyyy.” You whined, trying to rock against him, but his weight pinned you down completely, “Don’t stop please.”

“What did I say baby?” His hand came down on your ass, the slap echoing in the room, your cheek blooming with head, “Brats don’t get to cum that easy.”

He pulled out almost entirely, then thrust back in, repeating the motion while his hand alternated slaps on your ass. Left cheek, right cheek, each one harder, making your skin tingle and your pussy clench around him. “You like that don’t you, my dirty darling? Gettin' wetter with every damn smack.”

“Harder Jay.” You taunted, pushing him further.

Jay's eyes flashed, and he flipped you onto your stomach briefly, yanking your hips up so you were on your knees. He slapped your ass again, the impacts raining down until it burned, then he reached between your legs and slapped your pussy directly, the wet smack making you jolt forward with a cry. The sting was intense, your clit pulsing, but it only heightened the need coiling inside you.

“On your back.” He ordered, flipping you once more, “Need to see my pretty pussy.”

He hooked your legs over his shoulders, as he drove back into you, the new angle letting him hit even deeper. His thrusts were brutal now, his cock pistoning in and out, the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin filling the room. You were close again, so so close, your walls gripping him like a vice.

“Jay—no!” He edged you again, slowing grinds just as you hovered on the brink.

“Beg for it baby.” He slapped your pussy once more, lighter this time, and then thrust particularly deep, “I’m afraid the sheriff will only let good girls get what they want.”

Tears of frustration welled in your eyes, the overstimulation from earlier making every sensation amplified. “Please, Jay…..need it so bad.” You were a pathetic, babbling mess beneath him, “I’ll be your good girl sheriff, I promise—ahh fuck!”

“That’s my girl.” But he didn't let you tip over, pulling back to edge you a third time, his hand coming down on your ass as he fucked you slow and deliberate.

“Can’t take it Jay—fuck.” You whined, squirming in his hold, “Please let me cum on your cock please, I’ll do anything."

And there it was.

What a beautiful woman his wife was.

Satisfaction crossed his face as he reached down, skilled fingers hooking under the silk garter on your thigh. With an achingly gentle tug, he slid it off, the lace dragging against your skin and sending shivers up your spine. He held it up, the white silk gleaming in the moonlight, then brought one end to his mouth, biting down on it gently. The other end he pressed to your lips.

“Bite.” Jay commanded, and you did, the silk muffling your moans as he thrust back into you.

Now in full missionary, your legs wrapped around his waist, he fucked you with long, powerful strokes, the garter stretched between your mouths like a intimate tether. Every time he bottomed out, the pull on the silk made you both groan, the fabric dampening with your shared breaths.

His pace quickened, hips snapping against yours with a violent force, his cock swelling inside you. The edging had you wound so tight that the first orgasm crashed over you almost immediately, your pussy spasming around him as you screamed into the garter. He didn't stop, pounding through it, the silk pulling taut as he leaned closer, his forehead against yours.

“Cum for me, my darling.” Jay moaned around the fabric, his hand slipping between you to rub your clit. The overstimulation hit full force, your body convulsing as a second climax ripped through you, harder than the first. You bit down on the garter, tasting the faint salt of his sweat mixed with the silk.

Jay followed soon after, his thrusts erratic as he buried himself deep, his cock pulsing as he filled you with hot spurts of cum. He released the garter from his mouth, tossing it aside, and collapsed onto you, both of you panting in the aftermath.

“Fucking hell.” Jay grunted, pulling out as slow as he could, cupping your cheek as he did. Your husband was a wildly dual natured man.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his breath steadying as the frenzy of passion ebbed away, leaving only the quiet intimacy of your shared exhaustion. Your body hummed with aftershocks, muscles loose and sated, the ache between your thighs a sweet reminder of how thoroughly he had claimed you.

“You alright, darling?” He collapsed beside you, immediately pulling you into his comforting hold, “Need anything? Water?”

‘No just—” You sunk into him, head on his chest as he ran his fingers through your hair, “—stay like this.”

Jay lifted a hand slowly, brushing a loose curl from your cheek. His fingers were rough and calloused, but his touch was ever so gentle.

“You’re really something, you know that?” He chuckled, “I don’t think you understand what you do to me, darling.”

You tried to laugh it off, but your throat felt tight. “I was starting to think I didn’t do much at all anymore.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and his hand stilled against your face.

“Hey,” He said immediately, firm but soft, “Don’t”

“I know it’s stupid but–”

“You think I stopped thinking about you?” Jay said, squeezing your hand, “I think about you every single day,” He said. “I think about getting home to you. I think about this house, about the porch, about you standing in the doorway.” His thumb brushed along your cheekbone. “I just…..stay away from you sometimes because I’m afraid.”

Your brows knit. “Afraid of what?”

“Burdening you.” Jay sighed, “I don’t want this damn job to reach you, my dearest.”

Your heart clenched at his words. Oh your sweet, sweet husband. Still that naive boy you married all those years ago.

“You think I married you for easy days?” You whispered, running your thumb over his knuckles. His lips twitched faintly.

“No,” He laughed. “You married me when I was just a fool with a borrowed suit.”

“And I’d do it again,” You said without hesitation, “Just promise me you’ll let me come to the station sometimes. It gets boring here.”

Jay considered it for a while, the moonlight falling into the room illuminating your face so perfectly.

“Only if you promise to stay safe.” He said, to which you nodded frantically, making him chuckle, “Although I don’t think I’ll get any work done with your pretty ass hanging around.”

“Good.” You giggled, “The town should know their sheriff has the ability to smile.”

“Only for you, darling.”

_______________________

“One of those chocolate madeleines please.” You slid two notes across the counter, “And I’ll take a cream puff as well.”

Behind the display case, your friend smiled sweetly at you. Flour dusted her cheek, and a streak of chocolate smudged near her wrist where she’d clearly tasted something mid-batch.

“Just those?” She asked lightly, tongs hovering over the tray.

“Hmm.” You hummed, watching her carefully take the goodies out and package it, “It's for my husband.”

“I figured.” She laughed, "Everything you bake goes into that man’s stomach. Tell him to save some for us too!” She leaned forward, “I was right about that garter, and I’m right about this.”

“First of all, someone's got to remind that man to eat.” You said, leaning your elbows on the counter, "Second of all…” You paused before smiling, “yeah you were right. Thank you honey.”

“Oh, I’m sure the whole town appreciates your dedication to the sheriff’s well-being.” She snorted softly.

You narrowed your eyes at her teasing tone, sticking a tongue out playfully, watching her fingers as she tied the ribbon neatly around the small brown box. The bakery smelled of melted chocolate and warm sugar, sunlight streaming through the front windows and catching the dust in the air.

You had just come from your sister’s bar across the street, after listening to her troubles about some or other cowboy who had been hanging around the bar. ‘Troubles’, you laughed at the thought, more like young love.

“You know,” She slid the box toward you, lowering her voice almost conspiratorially, “I tried something new today.”

“Should I be worried?” You arched a brow. You knew how much she loved to experiment, which often ended up in fire and smoke.

“It’s harmless,” She insisted. “Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

She reached beneath the counter and lifted a single cupcake onto a small porcelain plate. Pale frosting swirled high on top, a faint dusting of cinnamon and something darker speckled across it.

“And pray tell what is that?” You said, peering suspiciously at the poor cupcake.

“An experiment.” She said proudly. “Something that will…..have the same effect as that garter.”

You stared at the desert in front of you, and then flicked your gaze to her, scoffing. “You made a love potion?”

“It’s really subtle, I promise.” She grinned, “Plus I didn't have enough ingredients to make it the usual strength.”

You hesitated, eyeing the cupcake again. It looked innocent enough, almost too innocent. But the thought of walking into that sun-beaten station with something playful—something just for the two of you—made your heart flutter.

“Come on.” She said smoothly, “It doesn't hurt to have a little fun.”

“And you swear it’s not that strong?” Your friend nodded her head frantically, making you sigh and shrug your shoulders, “Alright then.”

“Yay!” She laughed, then carefully lifted the cupcake and placed it in a small white box separate from the others. “On the house,” she said.

“Absolutely not—”

“Consider it payment for that advice you gave me.” She said, “And also for making your husband my guinea pig.”

You laughed, and picked up your boxes, shooting her a wink before bidding her goodbye and stepping back out into the afternoon sun.

You stepped outside into the blaze of the desert afternoon, the heat wrapping around you like a living thing. The sky stretched endlessly blue overhead, the sun merciless and bright, pressing against your shoulders. The ground radiated warmth through the soles of your sandals as you walked.

Your knee-length dress, a soft cotton fitted at the waist and buttoned down the front, fluttered lightly around your legs as a dry breeze swept through. The skirt swayed, brushing against your calves as you walked, the scent of cocoa drifting faintly from the boxes in your hands.

You walked toward the sheriff’s station, just a block away, pulse picking up the closer you got. You told yourself it was just the heat.

In reality, it was the thought of his expression when you would walk in. The way his tired eyes would soften, the way he’d lean back in his chair, hat tipped aside, sleeves rolled up to reveal those beautiful forearms, the way he’d spread his legs just right, inviting you in.

God you wanted your husband so bad.

A bead of sweat trailed down your spine as you climbed the station steps, the wooden boards warm beneath your sandals. You paused at the door, taking a slow breath, adjusting the boxes so they wouldn’t tilt.

The desert sun blazed behind you, casting your shadow long across the threshold. Then you reached for the handle and stepped inside, the colder air of the building meeting your skin. The station smelled faintly of paper, dust and sun-warmed leather. Your sandals clicked softly against the wooden floor as you stepped fully inside, hearing the loud buzz of conversation soften a bit.

Two officers near the front desk looked up first, then another from behind a stack of reports. You offered them a warm, polite smile. “Afternoon, gentlemen.”

“Ma’am.” One of them said quickly, nearly knocking over his inkwell in the process. You had invited most of them to dinner at least once, fed them and listened to their stories.But had never once seen you here.

You felt their eyes linger, curiosity sweeping through you moved down the short hallway with steady steps, hips swaying slightly. Heat still clung to your skin from outside, leaving a faint flush along your collarbones, the thin ribbon at your waist accentuating the gentle curve of you.

At the end of the hallway sat his office, the door half open. You didn't bother to knock, just pushing it wider and stepping inside, closing it shut behind you.

Jay sat behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, oh god those forearms. His hat rested on the corner of the desk and a stack of papers lay scattered before him. His head was bent, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Afternoon, sheriff.” You said lightly, walking up to his desk like a mischievous child.

Jay looked up, and for a split second, all his senses crashed. His chair creaked faintly as he leaned back, eyes dragging slowly from your face down to your legs, and then back, resting briefly on the boxes.

“Well if it isn't the biggest criminal in town.” He said, voice shifting lower, legs already shifting apart, “You, ma’am are guilty of stealing my heart.”

You set the boxes carefully on the edge of his desk and took a step closer, resting your hands lightly on the wood. Jay leaned back further in his chair, boots planted wide, hands resting casually on the armrests. But there was nothing casual about the way he was looking at you.

“Do I have the right to remain silent, sheriff?” You walked around the desk slowly, your skin feeling warm. You could feel his eyes tracking every step, “Do I have the right to do this?”

And before Jay’s mind could process anything, you lowered yourself onto his lap, settling there quite comfortably.

“Careful darling.” His hands came up fast, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other against your back as he pulled you firmly against him, “You’re really testing the law here.”

Your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his shirt, forehead brushing with his, the solid muscle of his thigh pressing up against the heat building between your legs. The office was quiet, the door firmly shut behind you, sealing out the rest of the station's bustle.

You could smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the paperwork scattered across his desk, but all your focus was on the way his body tensed beneath you, his breath hitching as you shifted closer.

“And what’s my sentence, sheriff?” You asked.

“Hmm, let me think.” Jay said, voice a low rumble that vibrated through his chest into yours, “I suppose, life” One hand went up to stroke your cheek, “with me of course.”

You smiled, leaning in to brush your lips against his ear. “How do you expect me to change with such a tempting sentence?”

Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the crisp fabric of his shirt, the badge pinned there cool under your palm. You rocked your hips subtly, grinding against his thigh, and felt him harden instantly beneath you.

Jay's eyes darkened, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair. “You’re going to be the death of me.” But he didn't push you away, pulling you closer instead, his other hand squeezing your ass through your skirt.

“I got you something.” You said gently, reaching behind for the boxes, opening the smaller one first, “A cupcake.”

“Are you attempting to bribe an officer, young lady?” He said, gaze dropping to the neckline of your dress, the curve of your shoulders, then back up to your eyes.

“A bribe you say?” You laughed, pulling out the small cupcake topped with thick, white cream. “Open up.”

His eyes didn’t drop to the pastry, staying on you. He leaned forward, taking a bite. The cream smeared slightly on his lower lip as he chewed, his tongue darting out to catch it. You watched, heat pooling in your core, as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.

“Mmm caramel?” He said, licking his lips, lord give you strength, “What’s the occasion?”

“Just wanted to treat my husband.” You scooped a bit of the remaining cream onto your finger, holding it out to him.

He didn't hesitate, capturing your finger between his lips, his tongue swirling around it slowly, sucking the cream off with deliberate strokes. The wet heat of his mouth made your pussy clench, imagining that gorgeous tongue elsewhere.

Jay's eyes locked on yours as he licked every trace, his suction firm, teeth grazing your skin lightly. “Tastes even better off you.” He released your fingers with a pop.

You brought your finger to your own mouth, sucking it clean, tasting the faint sweetness mixed with the salt of his saliva. You ground down harder on his thigh, the friction against your panties making you wetter, your skirt riding up slightly.

He groaned, his cock straining against his pants now, the outline visible as you shifted. Whatever was in that cupcake was working fast; you could feel the heat radiating from him, his grip tightening.

“Fuck….darling, what are you doing to me? I feel weird.” You smirked, popping the rest of the cupcake into your mouth, chewing slowly before swallowing.

“I’m not doing anything.” You hummed, your hands working at his belt, but he caught your wrists, shaking his head.

“Baby not here.” But his body betrayed him, hips bucking up slightly, pressing his thigh firmer against your aching pussy, The officers–”

“Just one Jay.” You released a soft whine, rocking faster, the seam of his pants rubbing your clit through the thin fabric, “Please?” Your breasts brushed his chest with each movement, nipples hardening under your blouse.

Jay's breath came in short bursts, his face flushing as the aphrodisiac surged through him. His cock throbbed visibly, begging for attention, but you ignored it, focusing on your own pleasure. You rode his thigh relentlessly, the pressure building, your juices soaking through your panties onto his uniform.

“Shit.” He hissed, one hand sliding under your skirt to cup your ass, urging you on. “You’re gonna make me lose my damn mind.” His other hand fumbled with his shirt, to unbutton it, but he stopped himself, glancing at the door.

“Let me make you feel good, sheriff.” You purred, leaning in to nip at his jaw. Your hips circled, grinding your swollen clit against him, chasing the edge but not quite tipping over. He was rock hard now, the aphrodisiac turning his arousal into something primal, his eyes glazed with need.

Just as you felt the first sparks of your orgasm flickering, a sharp knock echoed through the office. Both of you froze, your heart pounding.

“Sheriff? You in there?” A voice called from the other side—his fellow officer, sounding urgent.

“Fuck.” Jay cursed underneath his breath He lifted you off his lap in one swift motion, his strength making it effortless despite the haze of lust. “Under the desk. Now.”

You didn't argue, sliding off and dropping to your knees, crawling under the large wooden desk, his rough voice only increasing your arousal.

It was cramped, the space just big enough for you to tuck in, your face level with his crotch. The door creaked open as Jay adjusted himself, trying to hide the massive bulge.

“Come in.” Jay said, his voice strained but steady. He scooted his chair forward, blocking you from view, his boots framing your hiding spot.

You heard someone step inside, the door clicking shut behind him. “Sorry to bother you, boss. Got an update on that theft case from last night. Looks like it was kids, but we found some prints that don't match.”

Jay cleared his throat, his hand dropping under the desk to grip the armrest near you. “Tell me more.” But his focus shattered the moment your fingers tugged at his belt again. He shot you a warning glance downward, but you ignored it, unbuckling him quietly.

The zipper rasped softly as you pulled it down, fishing his cock out through the opening, thick and veined, the head flushed dark red and leaking pre-cum. The aphrodisiac had him impossibly hard, pulsing in your hand, hot as a brand. You wrapped your fingers around the base, stroking once, and Jay's thigh tensed beside you.

The officer droned on, oblivious. “We dusted the safe—got a thumbprint. Running it through the system now, but I think it's that punk from the diner. You know, the one with the tattoos?'

“Mm-hmm.” Jay managed, his voice tight. Why was your mouth so fucking hot?”

You leaned in, tongue flicking out to lap at the slit, tasting the salty bead of pre-cum. His cock jerked, and he shifted in his chair, one hand coming down to thread through your hair, not pushing but holding on for dear life.

You took him into your mouth slowly, lips stretching around his girth, tongue pressing flat against the underside as you slid down. Inch by delicious inch, you swallowed him, the musky scent of his arousal filling your senses. He was so thick, filling your mouth completely, the vein along the side throbbing against your tongue.

Jay's free hand gripped the edge of the desk above, knuckles white. “What….what else? Any witnesses?” His words came out clipped, breath hitching as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked particularly hard.

The officer paced a bit, papers rustling. “Some lady saw a truck leaving around midnight—a blue pickup, rusted fender. Matches that punk. We should bring him in for questioning.”

You bobbed your head, taking him deeper, your throat relaxing to accommodate his length. Saliva coated him, dripping down to your hand as you pumped what you couldn't fit.

The wet sounds were obscene, but muffled under the desk, drowned out by the officer’s voice. Jay's hips twitched involuntarily, fucking shallowly into your mouth, and you hummed around him, the vibration making him stifle a groan.

“Yeah, sound solid." Jay replied, his voice gravelly. “Pull him in first thing tomorrow.”

His fingers tightened in your hair, guiding you subtly, urging you faster. All his senses zeroed in on you—the slick heat of your mouth enveloping him, your tongue swirling around the head each time you pulled back, teasing the sensitive frenulum.

You could feel how close he was already, the aphrodisiac amplifying everything, his balls drawing tight against your chin as you deepthroated him. Your own pussy throbbed, neglected but aching from the earlier thigh-riding, juices trickling down your thighs.

You slipped a hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your soaked panties, but focused on him, sucking harder, lips sealed tight.

The officer chuckled. “You okay, boss? Sound a bit off. Late night?”

Jay's laugh was forced and strained. “Just……paperwork. Keep going—what about the evidence?”

As the officer launched into details about logging the prints and securing the scene, you ramped up your pace, head moving furiously now, mouth a wet, tight vice around his beautiful cock.

You gagged softly once, twice, but pushed through, tears pricking your eyes from the effort. His pre-cum leaked steadily, coating your tongue, and you swallowed around him, milking him.

Jay's boot nudged your knee, a silent plea—stop. Or don't stop?

But his hand in your hair pulled you closer; every nerve in his body screamed from your mouth: the suction pulling at his shaft, your teeth grazing lightly, the way your throat constricted around the head. The office faded; the officer’s words blurred into white noise. All that existed was the hot, slick gliiide of your lips, the obscene slurp you made when you twisted your head.

“We need to cross-reference with the database from the last break-in.” The officer continued, leaning against the desk. “Might be connected. You think?”

“Absolutely.” Jay grunted, his abs clenching under his shirt.

You felt his cock swell, the telltale pulse starting at the base. You sucked harder, one hand cupping his balls, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten further.

The officer paused. “You sure you're alright?”

“Fine.” Jay bit out, his voice breaking on the edge. “Just... hot in here. Tell me about the truck—any plates?”

You knew he was seconds away. Your mouth worked relentlessly, tongue lashing the underside, saliva dripping onto the floor between his boots. His thighs quivered, the muscles jumping under your touch.

“No plates visible, but we'll check traffic cams.” He said, wrapping up. “You want me to handle the warrant?”

Jay's hand fisted in your hair, hips jerking forward as he came, hot ropes of cum flooding your mouth. You swallowed greedily, not spilling a drop, your throat working around him as he pulsed, groan muffled into a cough. “Yeah—do that. Good work.”

The officer straightened. “Thanks, boss. Get some rest—you look beat.” The door opened and closed, footsteps fading.

Jay slumped in his chair, cock still twitching in your mouth as you licked him clean, savoring the last spurts. He pulled you up gently, zipping himself with shaking hands, eyes wild with post-orgasm haze and lingering aphrodisiac fire.

“You little minx.” He panted, hauling you onto his lap again. His cock, still half-hard, pressed against your thigh. “What was in that cupcake?”

“That’s a secret I’m afraid.” You grinned, kissing him deeply, letting him taste himself on your tongue, “Round two sheriff?”

Jay’s hands roamed under your skirt, finding your drenched panties. He rocked you against his thigh again, the teasing reversed now, his fingers circling your clit as his payback began, the aphrodisiac still burning in his veins.

“I hope you don’t have anywhere to be today, darling.”

______________________

“You two are actually disgusting.” You sister scrunched her nose adorably as she took another swig of her beer

She was sprawled comfortably at the dining table, boots hooked around one of the chair legs, lazily tipping the bottle to her lips while she watched the two of you in the open kitchen like it was her evening entertainment.

Jay didn’t even try to look ashamed. You were standing between him and the counter, supposedly cutting slices of pecan pie. Supposedly.

In reality, his hand had found your waist about three minutes ago and hadn’t left, drawing shapes on your clothed skin and subtly kissing your neck, your back pressed to his chest.

“We’re married,” You pointed out sweetly.

“That doesn’t mean I need to witness it,” She replied flatly.

“What do you think sweetheart?” Jay leaned down slightly, his voice dropping just enough for you to feel it more than hear it. “Should we kick her out?”

You elbowed him lightly. “You invited her.”

He grinned. “Not to sit in my lap.”

“I can hear you.” Your sister gagged from the table.

“Good.” You turned, pie server in hand.

The kitchen smelled warm and sweet, sugar and toasted pecans filling the air. The last light of evening filtered in through the window, casting everything in a golden glow. Jay stood close behind you, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly mussed from the heat. He looked relaxed in a way he only did at home, his thumb tracing an absent pattern at your hip. You tried very hard not to lean back into him.

“Am I getting food anytime soon?” Your sister asked, “Or are you two going to keep being disgusting.”

Jay finally released you long enough for you to carry the pie to the table. He followed with three plates, entirely unbothered by her dramatics.

“If we’re disgusting,” He said mildly as he set the plates down, “you’re free to leave, sweetheart.”

“I was here first, Park.” She pointed her bottle at him, although accepting the plate gratefully, eyes already wide at the sight of your pie.

“You live across the street, sweetheart.” You reminded her.

“And yet somehow I’m still the third wheel in my own sister’s house.”

You sat down beside Jay, knees brushing his under the table. He casually draped his arm along the back of your chair like it belonged there…..which it did.

You slid a generous slice of pie onto your sister’s plate. “Eat up. It’ll distract you from your loneliness.”

“I'm sorry what.” She narrowed her eyes, “I am not lonely.”

“Oh?” You said lightly. “So you weren't staring at those cowboys riding past the bar yesterday with your mouth wide open?” Jay coughed into his fist, very badly disguising a laugh.

“I was not.” Your sister’s mouth formed into a pout, the familiar tactics she employed to get out of being scolded by you and Jay.

Jay leaned back in his chair, looking between the two of you like he was watching a particularly entertaining courtroom argument. “Which cowboys?” He asked casually.

“Nobody!” Your sister defended herself, pointing a fork at you, “Your wife is insane, don’t listen to her.”

“Hey now.” You laughed, leaning your face on your palm, “I’m just saying.”

“Hopefully it's not that bastard Sunghoon. Almost caught him today but he slipped away.” Jay sighed heavily and took a bite, “Last time he was in town I had to break up two fights and confiscate a stolen saddle.”

You grinned at your sister—she was never that great at keeping secrets and boy was this a big one. “Hear that? The sheriff disapproves.”

“I don’t disapprove,” Jay corrected calmly. “I just prefer when citizens don’t start saloon brawls every other week.”

“He did not start that fight,” Your sister snapped. Jay gave her a look, as if to ask how she knew and she quickly cleared her throat, “I was out that day and I saw what happened.”

“You sound very defensive for someone who isn’t staring.” You chuckled, titling your head at her.

She groaned. “You two are insufferable.”

“We’re just saying he’s trouble, sweetheart.” Jay smirked.

“You’re trouble,” She shot back.

“That’s different.” You and Jay said at the same time.

She blinked at the synchronized response and then shook her head in disbelief. “This is exactly what I mean. You’re like….a unit. It’s disturbing.” She crossed her arms and huffed, “And quit acting like I’m gonna run off with someone.”

“You wouldn't survive five miles into the desert.” You and Jay snorted, as he squeezed your shoulder lightly, “You’ll find someone soon enough sweetie.” You cooed at her, “Someone to soothe you and all that lovey stuff.”

“I don’t need soothing.”

“You need supervision.” Jay muttered.

“Honestly,” She said, taking a dramatic swig of her beer, “maybe you two should just have kids already.”

You loved your younger sister of course. But you had to admit she had a talent for saying stuff that could shut people up.

“What?” You blinked, feeling heat rise to your neck.

“So you’ll stop hovering over me like I’m fifteen.” She scoffed, glancing over at Jay who had his fork paused halfway to his mouth, “You guys baby me too much.” She continued, gesturing wildly. “You lecture me about my life and you monitor my bar. It’s exhausting.”

“We do not monitor your bar,” You protested.

Jay cleared his throat. “I occasionally ensure it remains… orderly.”

“Exactly!” She threw her hands up with a crude laugh. “If you had children, you’d be too busy to interfere in my life.” There was a brief silence.

You laughed first. “Oh yes, because raising children is famously relaxing.”

She pointed at you. “You’d be great at it.” The words were casual—offhand, something that one said every now and then.

But the way his blood rushed to his dick made Jay want to go outside and kick a tree.

There was a subtle shift in his posture; his knee pressed a fraction closer against yours under the table, his heartbeat, steady and calm just seconds ago—seemed to pick up when you glanced at him.

“You think we’d make good parents?” You asked lightly, though your pulse had quickened.

Your sister shrugged. “Obviously. You already act like it with me.” She stole another bite of pie, “You two would have the most well-behaved little outlaws,” She added.

“Outlaws?” Jay laughed, trying to sound stable, and like he wasn't thinking about every position he could put his child into you in.

“With her stubbornness and your personality?” She said, “Terrifying.”

You laughed, but your eyes were still on him. His gaze had softened in a way you hadn’t seen before. Jay’s hand slid down from the back of your chair to rest at your waist under the table. He didn’t say anything, as you leaned subtly into your husband’s side, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest— feeling the way his hand lingered at your waist just a second longer than usual.

It would be a long night indeed.

______________

It was all bruising kisses and harsh words as soon as your sister stepped out the door. Jay didn't even wait till she had crossed the street, to grab at your waist and lift you up, carrying you to the bedroom like one carried diamonds and other precious things,

The words ‘you’d make good parents’ had ignited something primal within him, and now with your sister gone, and the house left all to you two, he was going to unleash it.

Jay’s mouth crashed against yours in the hallway, teeth nipping at your lower lip hard enough to draw a gasp, his hands rough on your hips as he hoisted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, skirt bunching up your thighs, and you felt the hard ridge of his erection pressing against your core through his jeans.

“You heard what she said, darling.” He moaned against your mouth, voice thick with need, “We’d make such good parents.”

You clung to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, heart racing as he carried you down the hall. His strides were purposeful, possessive, each step jostling you against him, the friction making your panties dampen.

“Jay.” You breathed but he silenced you with another bruising kiss, tongue thrusting deep, claiming every inch of your mouth like he owned it.

Your husband kicked the bedroom door open, the wood banging against the wall, and dumped you onto the bed with a controlled roughness that sent a thrill through you. You bounced once, skirt riding up to expose your thighs, and he was on you in an instant, looming over your body, his broad frame casting a shadow. His eyes raked over you, dark and hungry, hands already yanking at the hem of your blouse.

“Clothes off.” His voice was low and authoritative, “Let me see that pretty body.”

Your fingers trembled with anticipation as you obeyed, peeling off your blouse, unhooking your bra to let your breasts spill free. His gaze zeroed in on them, nipples hardening under the cool air and his stare.

You shimmied out of your skirt next, leaving you in just your panties, the fabric clinging to your arousal. Jay shed his shirt, revealing the taut muscles of his chest and abs, leading down to where his jeans strained obscenely.

He crawled onto the bed, caging you in with his arms, and started kissing you all over—not the harsh clashes from before, but slower, gentler presses of his lips that spoke of his reverence mixed with raw desire. He began at your neck, sucking lightly on the pulse point, teeth grazing just enough to mark without breaking skin.

“Need to worship this body.” He murmured, lips trailing down to your collarbone, nipping softly, “Before I pump you so fucking full with our child.”

Heat flooded your cheeks and between your legs at his words, the talk sending a fresh gush of wetness to your pussy. You arched into him as his mouth found your breast, tongue circling the nipple before he latched on, sucking hard enough to make you whimper.

“Ahh—Jay please…” His hand cupped the other, thumb rolling the peak, pinching just shy of pain. You gasped, fingers threading through his hair, holding him there.

He chuckled darkly against your skin, switching sides, lavishing the same attention while his free hand slid down your stomach, fingers splaying possessively over your lower abdomen.

“Please what, my dearest? Please fuck a baby into you?” His kisses continued lower, peppering your ribs, your navel, until he hooked his fingers in your panties and tugged them down your legs, exposing your slick folds, “Cause that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.” He settled between your thighs, shoulders nudging them wider, and pressed a soft kiss to your inner thigh, then another higher, closer to where you ached.

He stripped off his jeans and boxers in one go, veins bulging along his thick cock, the head already weeping pre-cum. He was so damn big, and it was intimidating even after all this time, and your pussy clenched at the sight, knowing how it would stretch you.

Jay stroked himself once, twice, eyes locked on yours as he positioned the tip at your entrance.

“Look at me darling.” His tone was sharp, even as his eyes were soft. “You ready for me?”

With that, he pushed in, the broad head breaching you slowly, inch by sublime inch, your walls fluttering around the invasion. You cried out, the burn of his size making your eyes water, hands fisting the sheets as he bottomed out, balls pressed against your ass.

“So tight—ahh fuck.” He groaned, holding still for a moment, forehead resting against yours, “Good little pussy’s made for me yeah?”

He started moving then, shallow thrusts that let you adjust, but soon deepened, hips snapping forward with controlled power. Each plunge hit deep, the angle brushing your g-spot, sending sparks up your spine. You wrapped your legs around him, heels digging into his back, urging him faster.

“Good girl, goood girl.” He panted, one hand bracing beside your head, the other gripping your thigh to spread you wider. “Feel how deep I am? Right where I need to be to breed you good, pretty girl.”

"Please, Jay—hah—please..." You begged, voice breathy and desperate as he pounded into you. "Need you to fill me up—ahh!”

Your words only seemed to spur him on further, his hips snapping forward with bruising force as he drove himself into you again and again. The hand on your thigh tightened, fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to leave marks.

His pace quickened, cock pistoning in and out, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room alongside your moans. Jay leaned down to capture your lips in a messy kiss, tongue mirroring his thrusts, while his hand slipped between you to rub your clit in firm circles.

“Close close, I’m close!” You whimpered, nails raking down his back, as pleasure coiled in your lower belly.

“Cum for me.” Jay’s voice was rough, “God she’s squeezin’ me dry, darling.”

His fingers pressed harder on your clit, hips grinding deep on every thrust, and you shattered, orgasm hitting you like a truck. Your pussy convulsed around him, walls rippling, pulling him in as you cried out his name, body arching off the bed.

He didn't stop, fucking you through it, prolonging the bliss until you were oversensitive, twitching beneath him.

“Good girl.” He praised, slowing down just enough to let you catch your breath. But if you knew anything about your husband, he wasn't the kind to leave you alone after just one swig of ambrosia.

With a grunt, he pulled out, your pussy clenching emptily at the loss, but he was quick to manhandle you—throwing your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half until your knees brushed your chest. The mating press pinned you open, vulnerable, his cock nudging your entrance again.

“Look at you.” He said, eyes blazing as he sank back in, the new angle letting him go impossibly deeper, the head kissing your cervix. You gasped, the fullness bordering on too much, but the stretch ignited fresh arousal. “My beautiful wife.” He thrust in earnest now, powerful slams that rocked the bed.

You were trapped, unable to do more than take it, hands clutching his arms as he dominated you completely. “Jay—fuck, it's too much.” You sobbed, but your body betrayed you, hips tilting to meet him, chasing the building pressure.

“You can take it, my dearest.” He leaned down to peck at your forehead, “I know you can.”

His hand found your clit again, rubbing relentlessly, while the other braced your thigh, keeping you locked in place. The position made every thrust target your deepest spots, the friction on your g-spot unrelenting. Sweat slicked his skin, dripping onto your breasts as he pounded into you, grunts mixing with your cries.

“Tell me you want it.” He huffed, biting down a moan as he felt you squeeze around him, “Tell me you want me to cum inside.” He leaned down again to nip at your earlobe making you moan loud enough for the whole town to hear.

“N-Need it.” You whined, words tumbling out in a haze of ecstasy, “Need it so bad Jay—need you to fill me—ahh god—fill me up.”

His rhythm faltered at your plea, thrusts turning erratic, harder. “Fuck, that's my girl. Gonna pump you so full, you'll feel me leaking out for days, baby.”

Your second orgasm built faster this time, the overstimulation from the first amplifying everything, your pussy fluttering wildly around him.

“Cum with me.” He ordered, fingers pinching your clit. “Now.”

The command tipped you over, ecstasy ripping through you as you clenched down, screaming his name. Jay followed instantly, burying himself to the hilt, cock pulsing as he unleashed thick ropes of cum deep inside.

“Take it all.” His body shuddered with the force of his release, “Take every fucking drop.” He held you there, grinding against your cervix, ensuring every spurt coated your walls, breeding you thoroughly.

He stayed locked inside as you both came down, breaths mingling, his weight a comforting press. Slowly, he unfolded you, legs lowering gently, but he didn't pull out yet, keeping his softening cock plugging you.

“Stay like that.” He murmured, voice softening just a tad.

The harshness melted away entirely just as fast as it had settled earlier in the evening. Jay kissed you sweetly, lips brushing yours in feather-light touches, moving to your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids.

“Love you so much.” He whispered between kisses, hand stroking your hair, "Didn't hurt you did I?”

“You’re asking me that after all that.” You smiled, sated and cherished, pulling him closer as the warmth wrapped around you both, “I loved it, baby.”

It was very rare for the town to see their cold-hearted sheriff ever soften, or even smile—he was as constant as the northern star in their opinion.

How lucky you were to see his rueful grin, as he pressed his soft lips all over you. He was your husband after all.

Only yours, for now and for as long as the cicadas kept chirping their song.

fin.

Taglist: @raven-unkind @bkatarina @shawnyle

Divider by @bonnieknowsbest