Chapter 361 Ashanti’s Virginity ( R18 )

Jax moved over Ashanti, his body a familiar, comforting weight. He didn’t settle on her immediately, but instead knelt between her spread legs, his gaze sweeping over her.

She was a masterpiece of shadows and candlelight, her dusky skin glowing, her body a landscape of soft curves and lean muscle he had only just begun to explore.

Her eyes were still closed, but her face was turned towards him, her lips slightly parted in anticipation. The trust she offered him was a sacred thing.

He took his throbbing, still-hard cock in his hand, stroking it slowly. The sight of her, spread open and waiting for him, had him fully aroused again, his blood pumping through his veins.

He leaned forward, his hands braced on either side of her head, and lowered his hips until the heavy length of his cock rested against her slick, swollen folds.

The contact made them both gasp. He was hot and hard; she was soft and wet.

He began to move, sliding his shaft up and down her slit, coating himself in her arousal, teasing them both.

The head of his cock bumped against her clit with every upward stroke, making her whimper and arch her hips.

"?Jax... please...?" she breathed, her hands clutching at the sheets beside her.

"Please what, Ashanti?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble. He loved the sound of his name on her lips, a breathy plea that was both innocent and wanton, "Tell me what you want."

"? I want... you ?," she whispered, a deep blush spreading across her chest, "? Deep inside me, please ?,"

He smiled, a predatory, yet tender, curve of his lips, "As you wish Ashanti,"

He shifted his hips, pulling back slightly. Then, he drew back his hand and brought his cock down in a light, sharp slap against her wet pussy.

The sound was a wet, obscene smack in the quiet room. Ashanti cried out, her entire body jolting as a shockwave of pleasure-pain shot through her.

He did it again, and again, a rhythmic, teasing cadence.

~SLAP~SLAP~SLAP!~

Each tap made her jump, made her clit throb, made her wetness flow. He was marking her, staking his claim on this most sensitive part of her body, preparing her for his invasion.

"Such a pretty little pussy," he growled, watching as his cockhead, flushed and angry with need, became coated in her glistening essence, "And it’s all mine tonight."

He stopped his teasing, positioning the thick head of his cock at her virgin entrance. He could feel the tight, clenching ring of muscle, the last barrier to her complete surrender.

He pushed forward slightly, just enough to breach the outermost part of her, letting her feel the size and shape of him.

She tensed, a soft gasp escaping her. Her hands flew to his shoulders, her fingers digging in, a mix of fear and anticipation in her grip.

"Easy," he soothed, leaning down to kiss her, a slow, deep, possessive kiss that stole her breath. "Relax for me, Ashanti. Let me in. Remember your promise to trust me,"

He felt her take a deep, shuddering breath beneath him, and slowly, deliberately, the tension in her body began to melt away. She was trying, for him.

He took that as his cue. With one hand, he guided his cock, and with the other, he cupped the back of her neck, holding her steady. He began to push.

The pressure was immense. He could feel the resistance of her tight, untried channel fighting against his intrusion.

He was slow, relentless, giving her body time to adjust, to stretch around him. He pushed deeper, and deeper still, a fraction of an inch at a time.

Ashanti’s world was reduced to the feeling of him entering her. It was a strange, full sensation, a pressure that bordered on pain but was underscored by a deep, burgeoning pleasure.

She felt stretched, impossibly full, as if he was reshaping her from the inside out. Her insides clenched and fluttered around him, a frantic, involuntary reaction to the foreign presence.

Then, he met the barrier. Her hymen, a thin wall of tissue that stood as the final testament to her innocence. He paused there, letting her feel him poised at the precipice.

"This is it," he whispered against her lips, "The last bit of pain. And then, only pleasure. Are you ready?"

She could only nod, her breath caught in her throat.

He kissed her again, swallowing her cry as he thrust forward, hard and fast. A sharp, tearing pain bloomed within her, a brief, white-hot sting that made her nails claw into his shoulders.

It was over in an instant, replaced by a deep, aching fullness as he slid home, burying himself to the hilt inside her.

He was in, having claimed her.

Jax stilled, giving her time to adjust. He could feel a single, hot tear leak from the corner of her closed eye and trail down her temple. He kissed it away, his lips gentle against her skin, "It’s done," he murmured. "The pain is over. I promise."

And just as he said it, the pain began to fade, melting away like snow in the sun. In its place, a new, more profound pleasure began to build.

The Pure Cleansing Art, which had been quiescent, began to stir again. A soft, golden light enveloped them, warm and healing.

It flowed from him, through their joined bodies, and into her, knitting together the newly torn tissue, soothing the ache, and transforming it into pure, unadulterated ecstasy and healing.

Ashanti gasped, her back arching off the bed. The feeling was incredible. Every nerve ending was on fire. The feeling of him, so thick and deep inside her, was a revelation. She could feel his heartbeat, a steady, powerful thrum against her inner walls.

Jax began to move.

He started with slow, shallow thrusts, just a gentle rocking of his hips that let her get used to the rhythm. Each movement sent a fresh wave of pleasure washing over her. Her moans, which had been pained, were now soft, breathy sounds of delight.

"That’s it," he grunted, his own pleasure mounting as her tight, wet sheath gripped him like a velvet glove, "Feel me, Ashanti. Feel all of me."

He increased his pace, his strokes becoming longer, deeper.

He pulled out until just the tip remained inside her, then plunged back in, burying himself to the hilt with a powerful thrust of his hips.

The sound of their bodies meeting, a wet, rhythmic slap, filled the room, mingling with their moans and gasps.

He was hitting a spot deep inside her, a magical place that sent sparks exploding behind her eyes.

With every thrust, the pleasure built, higher and higher, a towering inferno of sensation.

Her legs, which had been lying limply, came up to wrap around his waist, her heels digging into his ass, pulling him deeper, urging him on.

"? Jax... oh, gods... Jax... right there... don’t stop ?," she babbled, her head thrown back, her lips parted in silent screams. Her world was gone, replaced by the mindless, all-consuming pleasure of his cock pistoning in and out of her.

The golden light of the Pure Cleansing Art grew brighter and more intense, swirling around them in a dizzying vortex. It was no longer just a gentle, healing energy; it was a raw, primal force, feeding on their passion, amplifying their pleasure, driving them towards the peak.

Jax could feel it building, a pressure in his own core that was mirrored in the trembling of the woman beneath him.

He was fucking her and healing her, claiming her and restoring her, all at once. And as he looked down at her beautiful, blissed-out face, he knew that this was only the beginning.