Page 8 of Stuffed

With a wicked grin, Jax pulls the bottle of maple syrup we used earlier from his back pocket—our playful innuendoes now heightened with newfound meaning. He drizzles a slow, sticky trail down my abdomen, his eyes never leaving mine.

"You've never known true decadence until you've tasted yourself with a hint of maple," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Let me show you, Claire. Let me show you how good we can be together."

And as he brings his fingers to his lips, tasting me along with the amber syrup, the world around us melts away. I’m covered in sticky syrup, but I don’t care as Jax’s tongue licks it all off my heated skin.

I glance down and see him free himself from his pants. His heavy cock drops free, and I gasp when I see the liquid beading the tip. It’s impossibly hard and straining toward me.

I stare, transfixed, at Jax's impressive length, my mouth going dry. I've never seen a man aroused before, and the sight sends a fresh gush of wetness between my thighs. He sees me looking and grins wickedly, wrapping a hand around himself and giving a slow, teasing stroke.

"Like what you see, sweetheart?"

I can only nod mutely, my brain short-circuiting as I watch his fist slide up and down his thick shaft. He's magnificent—all hard angles and coiled power, barely restrained. The hunger in his gaze threatens to devour me whole.

Jax settles his hips between my splayed thighs, the blunt head of his cock nudging insistently at my entrance. I tense instinctively, suddenly nervous. This is uncharted territory for me. But Jax cups my face, forcing me to meet his eyes.

"Relax, baby," he soothes, brushing a tender kiss across my lips. "I've got you. I'll make this so good for you, I promise."

Emboldened by his words, I let my legs fall open further, welcoming him into the cradle of my body. Jax pushes forward, slowly, carefully, letting me adjust to the unfamiliar stretch and burn. It's intense, this feeling of fullness, of completion. Like a missing piece of myself I never knew was absent until this moment.

"God, you're so tight," Jax grits out, his face taut with restraint. "So perfect."

He hilts himself fully inside me with a low groan, and we both still, suspended in the gravity of our joining. I can feel every ridge and vein of him, pulsing deep within my core. It's overwhelming in the best possible way.

After a long, charged moment, Jax begins to move. He withdraws almost fully before surging back in, setting a steady, deep rhythm that has me seeing stars. Each thrust hits a spot inside me that I didn't even know existed, stoking the embers of my arousal into a raging inferno.

"That's it, sweetheart," he praises roughly as I arch to meet his strokes. "Take what you need."

I lose myself to the sensations—the delicious drag of his hardness, the dizzying spiral of pleasure building at the base of my spine. Nothing else exists outside this room, this bed, this man. Jax is my entire universe, the axis on which I spin.

He leans down to capture my lips in a searing kiss, swallowing my increasingly desperate moans. One hand slides between our sweat-slicked bodies to find my aching center. He rubs tight, focused circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves,winding the coil of tension inside me tighter and tighter until it's unbearable.

"Let go, Claire," Jax commands, his voice rough with need. "Come for me, baby. I want to feel you fall apart."

His words are my undoing. With a keening cry, I shatter in his arms, my inner muscles clenching rhythmically around his pistoning length. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over me, whiting out my vision, stealing the air from my lungs. I clutch at Jax's shoulders, my nails digging red crescents into his skin as I ride out the aftershocks.

"That's it, sweetheart," he praises, never stopping the relentless pump of his hips. "God, you're exquisite when you come. I could watch you fall apart like this forever."

Jax picks up the pace, chasing his own release now. His thrusts become erratic, more forceful, hitting that secret spot inside me over and over until I'm teetering on the edge again, oversensitive and yearning.

"You're mine now, Claire," he growls possessively, his eyes flashing with primal hunger. "No other man will ever touch you like this. I'll make sure of it."

I can only moan in assent, too lost in sensation to form words. The knowledge that I'm his, completely and irrevocably, only heightens my arousal. I want to be owned by him, body and soul.

"Say it," Jax demands harshly, punctuating each word with a deep, grinding thrust. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours," I gasp out, my back arching off the bed as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. "Only yours, Jax. Always."

My declaration seems to unleash something wild in him. With a guttural groan, he hoists my legs over his shoulders, the new angle allowing him to plunge even deeper. I cry out sharply, my body bowing under the onslaught of sensation.

"That's right, baby," he rasps. "Take all of me. I'm going to fill you up so good, ruin you for anyone else."

His filthy words and the relentless pounding of his cock catapult me to new heights. A second climax hits me without warning, even more intense than the first. I keen his name like a prayer as I convulse around him, stars exploding behind my tightly shut eyelids.

"Fuck, Claire," Jax snarls, his hips snapping frantically now. "Your little virgin cunt is squeezing me so tight. Gonna make me come so hard..."

With a hoarse shout, he buries himself to the hilt and stills, his cock jerking inside me as he finds his own release. I can feel the hot rush of his seed painting my inner walls, marking me indelibly as his own.

The intimacy of it, the pure possession, sends me spiraling into a third shuddering climax, my body milking every last drop from Jax's pulsing length. We cling to each other as the aftershocks roll through us, chests heaving, sweat-slicked skin sliding deliciously.

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