Page 138 of Undisputed Player
“Jax—” I tried, but it came out as a whimper, my hands lost in his thick blond hair, tugging for more, for everything. The world had tunneled to the humid, soaking pressure of his mouth, my fingers clutching his hair so hard I was surprised he wasn’t in pain.
He glanced up, eyes catching mine, and his voice was heated. “Ride my mouth, princess. Use me.”
That single command shattered whatever it was holding me back. I rolled my hips shamelessly over his face, grinding into the pressure of his tongue, and Jax fucking loved it, moaning like a starving man as he feasted on every gasp, every needy circle of my hips.
He licked and sucked, flattening his tongue, then flicking with fierce focus, never letting up on my clit until I was high and shaking, everything inside me burning up with the need to come.
He met my eyes from below me, just for a second, before latching onto my clit and suckinghard. I screamed, blissful pleasure overtaking every sense, grinding harder into his mouth.
I tumbled right over the edge. My orgasm hit with violence, my thighs clamping around Jax’s head as I came, my cries muffled by his devotion, by the way he held me steady and licked me through every aftershock.
He only relented when I collapsed forward, bracing my hands on the carpet above his head to keep from melting into a puddle. Hr laughed, low and satisfied, pride crackling through every line of his body as he kissed over my folds.
“God, you’re perfect,” he praised, voice ragged between my thighs as if he needed a second just to breathe me in.
I pulled back to look at the wicked grin stretching across his lips and into his eyes. He looked like sin incarnate, lips slick with me, his breathing ragged, so damn proud.
But pride wasn’t enough—not when I could see the bulge straining his pants, the tension in his body coiled tight and hungry. Desire flickered to life again inside me, bold and needy.
I nudged him backward, voice sweet but intent as I crawled off of him, “Sit on the couch.”
Jax’s boyish smirk sharpened. “The princess gets what she wants.”
He rose in that lethal, unhurried way, never taking his eyes off me as he sprawled onto the couch, legs opening wide to claim space like a king holding court. He plucked a cushion from behind him and dropped it at my feet.
“For your knees, little royal,” he drawled, patting the spot between his wide-spread thighs. “Wouldn’t want you getting marks. Yet.”
The invitation, the challenge, made heat rush through me. I settled on the cushion, slipping between his thighs, my hands already eagerly tugging at his pants.
He lifted his hips, watching with feral, appreciative eyes as I freed him. He was thick, hard, already leaking. My heart thundered at his size, at the pure masculine arrogance in how he sprawled and looked down at me.
He was big and flushed like usual, the thick head curved towards his abs like it knew where to paint him.
Jax traced his knuckles along my jaw, thumb ghosting over my lower lip. “Know what you’re doing, princess?” His voice was low, teasing, already knowing the answer. “Want me to show you?”
I ignored him and dragged my tongue slowly up the length of him, watching his eyelids flutter, his jaw clench. “I can guess,” I murmured, but before he could respond, I squeezed him at the base and wrapped my lips around the head.
“Fuck, Estelle—” The curse was ragged, shocked.
He tried to guide me, gentling his hand in my hair, coaxing me with a rhythm, but I quickly abandoned his lead, using my tongue, my lips, my own curiosity.
I hollowed my cheeks, sucked harder on the head while my hand twisted down his shaft. Instinct, or something deeper, told me to tease him, to swirl my tongue just beneath the ridge, to let my hot breath skate over his skin.
Jax’s coaching dissolved into curses and praise, his head tipping back against the couch, eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck, princess—don’t—God, just like that?—”
I experimented, taking him deeper, then swirling my tongue up the sides. He tried to school me with tugs on my hair, but I ignored them, determined to find every spot that made him tense and curse on my own.
His knuckles whitened against the cushion, hips jerking helplessly when I slipped a hand lower to cradle his balls, flicking my tongue along his tip.
He was losing it—his composure, his usual cocky control. I felt powerful and wanted and desperately greedy. His fingers tightened inmy hair, but now it was less guidance and more an anchor, needing me to keep him from falling apart.
“Estelle—shit—I’m close—” His voice was needy, almost desperate.
I looked up, locking eyes with him as I took him deep, not relenting, not letting him escape my mouth, and letting him see how much I wanted this, how much power he’d given me.
His entire body went taut, every muscle carved in relief and shadow, and with a guttural sound wrenched from somewhere deep, he spilled into my mouth, shaking.
He tasted sharp and salty, and I swallowed most of it, proud and triumphant. Jax stroked my hair back, breathless and totally unraveled, eyes wild and softer than I’d ever seen them all at once.
