Page 23 of What Happens In Vegas: Jessa & Jaxon
He kicks off his sweats and boxers quickly. I catch a glimpse of his shaft, hard and ready, before he presses me back onto the bed. His mouth finds my breast, sucking and nipping at the sensitive peak.
He slips a finger inside me, then another, his thumb circling my clit. I buck against his hand, my body seeking more, seeking release.
“I want to be inside you when you come.”
He shifts, moving off me. I whimper at the loss of contact. But he’s not gone for long.
Grabbing a condom from his wallet, he tears it open before rolling it onto his length. Then he’s back, his dick poised at my entrance.
But he doesn’t push inside me. Not yet. He flips me over, pulling me up onto my knees. I glance back at him, a question in my eyes. His gaze is locked on my ass.
“You have a tramp stamp?”
His fingers trace the small tattoo at the base of my spine, a butterfly I got on a whim years ago.
“Is that a problem?”
He shakes his head, his eyes darkening. “Not at all,” he says. “It’s fucking hot.”
Jaxon grips my hips, his cock pressing against my entrance. I push back against him, feeling him slip inside me, inch by delicious inch. He’s big, filling me completely, stretching me in the most incredible way.
Jaxon begins to move, his hips thrusting against mine, his cock sliding in and out of me. I grip the sheets, my body moving in time with his, meeting each thrust with one of my own. The sensation is intense, pleasure coursing through me with each movement.
His gaze is on me, hot and intense, watching as his cock moves in and out of me. It’s sexy, and I love it.
Jaxon leans forward, his mouth finding my ear. “You feel so good,” he breathes. “So tight, so wet. I could fuck you like this forever.”
His words send liquid heat to my core. His hand slides around my hip, finding my clit, his fingers circling the sensitive nub. I whimper, my body tensing as pleasure becomes me.
“Come for me, JJ.” His voice is low and commanding. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”
Those words push me over the edge. My body tightens, trembling as overwhelming pleasure rolls through me. I cry out, my hips bucking against his, my body milking his as I come.
Jaxon groans, his body tensing behind me. His thrusts become faster, harder, his fingers digging into my hips. Then he’s coming too, his penis pulsing inside me, his breath hot against my neck.
We collapse onto the bed, a tangle of limbs, sweat and satisfaction. He pulls me into his arms, his body spooning mine, his mouth pressing soft kisses to my shoulder.
“I should get cleaned up,” I murmur, reluctantly extracting myself from his embrace.
His fingers encircle my wrist, like he already knows I won’t resist. “Come back.”
Looking back at him, I take in his tousled hair and semi-erection. My body responds instantly, wanting him again despite the pleasant ache between my legs.
“I will,” I promise, and I’m surprised to find I mean it.
In the bathroom, I brace my hands against the sink, exhaling slowly as I take in my flushed cheeks, messy hair and the faint, unmistakable marks forming along my neck. It was all evidence of how thoroughly I’d been devoured.
I should feel regret, or at the very least, a sliver of worry, but as I press cool fingertips to my swollen lips, all I feel is the lingeringheat of his mouth and the quiet, undeniable fact that I don’t regret a damn thing.
When I step back into the bedroom, the first thing I notice is the empty space I left behind, the sheets slightly rumpled, one of Jaxon’s arms stretched across the mattress. The sight does something strange to my chest.
It would be easy to grab a pillow, to build a barrier between us again, to reclaim the careful distance I’ve been clinging to for days. But instead, I slip beneath the covers as if I can somehow trick my own mind into believing this is temporary.
The moment I settle, his arm finds me, pulling me in. I allow my body to sink into the warmth of his, closing my eyes as he murmurs something unintelligible against my hair.
I shouldn’t find it endearing. I shouldn’t find him endearing. But with the storm raging outside and his warmth enveloping me, I can’t help but wonder how it would feel to sleep like this for the rest of my life.
With that unsettling thought, I drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.
