Page 60 of The Souls We Claim
“Fuck, Arianne,” Jax groans. “Sweetest pussy I ever fucked. Give it to me.” The words come out harsh.
“Jax, please.” I shout my cries into the mattress so as not to wake Lola.
I wish I could see us. What it looks like, him over me, his cock jackhammering my pussy. The frenzy of human nature taking over politeness as we both fuck like we mean it.
“I want your pleasure, Ari. I want you to see how good it is. I want you to feel this as much as I am.”
“I’m close.” So close, I can almost taste it.
I screw up my face, close my eyes, almost suffocate myself in Jax’s sheets.
“Shit,” Jax says. The single word is loaded with the same feelings I’m having. That the sensations have become too big to stop them. “Ari. Come on, little one. Show me what a good girl you are. Come for me.”
And a miracle happens. A fucking delicious miracle. My hands grasp and release the sheets as I come.
“Fuck, the pulsing of your cunt feels so fucking good, kitten.”
As if I’m at the top of the roller coaster, my heart lurches at the drop. I cry out wordlessly as my orgasm consumes my whole being.
“Jesus, Arianne,” he gasps.
My sight wavers.
I come in deep, pulsing waves that cause stars to spin. I don’t want it to end, even as my body shakes at the intensity of it. Jax pulls his hand from beneath me and grips both my hips tightly while he rides out the end of our releases.
It’ll go down in the history books as the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Even if it’s the last one I ever get from Jax.
And I realize I’m thinking of him as Jax, not Halo. The man, not the biker.
He collapses over me, his head on the bed beside mine. “Sweetest fucking pussy,” he says.
My forehead is sweaty; my hair clings to it. But I don’t have it in me to care. My whole body feels liquid.
“A-plus,” I say. “Top of the class.”
“Brat.” Jax kisses the tip of my nose. “Stay there.”
He eases out of me and heads to the bathroom to deal with the condom before he returns to bed.
When he returns, he climbs into bed, clicks off the lamp, and gathers me into his arms. I love the way I fit against him.
“Should be illegal,” he mutters.
“What should?”
His hand strokes down my back, over the curve of my ass. “How good you feel in my arms.”
I smile against his pec.
My body feels utterly alive. I feel every brush of his fingers, the thread count of the cotton sheets. Even my toes tingle. Ishould feel guilty, I suppose, still being married and not having filed for divorce. But I can’t.
“You feel okay?” Jax asks.
“I refuse to feel guilty about the first truly rewarding sexual encounter of my life,” I say without thinking.
“Explain.”
In the dark, it feels safe to be honest. “To say I was a virgin before tonight would be way too big a stretch given the number of times I’ve let Patrick have sex with me. But if emotional virginity is a thing, then I feel like I was one of those. Because I didn’t want to curl up and pray for it to be over. It didn’t sting. Instead, I experienced what it feels like when the person you’re sharing a bed with actually cares about your enjoyment as much as their own.”
