Chapter 53 - 0053: You Taste So Fucking Good (r18+)

Chapter 53: Chapter 0053: You Taste So Fucking Good (r18+)

Elena’s Point Of View

The moment his fingers closed around my wrist, I knew I was in trouble.

His grip was iron... unforgiving, possessive, as though he’d been waiting for this exact moment, waiting for me to cross a line I didn’t even realize I’d drawn. The corridor stretched endlessly behind us, the echo of our footsteps bouncing off the marble floors like a warning I refused to heed.

But Jaxx didn’t hesitate, not even for a second. He dragged me forward, his stride long and purposeful, my heels clicking frantically against the stone as I struggled to keep pace. The air between us had grown thick, electric, charged with something dark and hungry that made my heart pound against my ribs.

"Jaxx..." My voice barely rose above a whisper, swallowed by the vastness of the hallway. He didn’t stop. Didn’t even glance my way, as if he’d already decided how this night would end.

Then the footsteps grew louder... closer. Someone else was coming, and panic flared in my chest.

His reaction was instant, almost predatory in its speed. One second we were moving; the next, he’d shoved me into the nearest restroom, his body pressing me against the door as he locked it behind us. The click of the deadbolt was deafening and final. My pulse roared in my ears, adrenaline and something far more dangerous tangling together.

I whirled on him, my chest heaving. "What the hell?"

His smirk was sin itself... slow, knowing, as though he’d already won some game I hadn’t agreed to play. "Oh, you’d have preferred to be seen bent over, taking another man’s dick in the corridor?" His eyes glittered with dark amusement. "Right, Mrs. Sinclair?"

My face burned, heat flooding my cheeks... not just from the insult, but from the way his voice dropped low and rough, as if he were already savoring the words on his tongue. "Shut up, you asshole."

He chuckled, dark and low, and crowded me against the counter until there was nowhere left to retreat. The cold marble bit into my back, but his body radiated heat like fire through the thin fabric of my dress, and I hated how quickly my resolve began to crumble. "Such a liar," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "Your body’s screaming for me, Bambina." His hand slid up my thigh, fingers tracing the hem of my dress, teasing the skin beneath with maddening patience. "Or do you want someone to walk in? Want them to see how wet you are for me?"

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering so loud I was certain he could hear it. "I hate you."

"No." His thumb pressed against the inside of my knee, slow, deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world to unravel me. "You hate how much you want me."

Before I could retort, his other hand fisted in my hair, tilting my head back until I had no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes burned into mine... black, endless, hungry, stripping away every defense I tried to hold onto. "You came to me," he growled. "In this dress. These fucking heels. You knew what you were doing."

My breath hitched, and shame warred with something far more traitorous inside me. The dress was a weapon, short and tight, its deep V neckline already earning more than a few lingering stares tonight. But his stare was different. It wasn’t just desire. It was ownership, absolute and unapologetic.

His free hand slid higher, fingers digging into the soft flesh of my inner thigh. "Open your legs."

I clenched them tighter, some last thread of defiance refusing to snap. "Go to hell."

He laughed, low and rough, and the sound sent a shiver straight between my thighs despite myself. "We’re already there, amore." His fingers inched higher, his touch searing through me like a brand. "Last chance. Open. Or I’ll do it for you."

I should’ve stopped him. Should’ve shoved him away and walked out with whatever dignity I had left. But the moment his fingers brushed against the damp lace of my panties, my body betrayed me completely. A whimper escaped my lips, my thighs trembling as he dragged the fabric down, agonizingly slow, his knuckles grazing my skin like a promise of things to come.

"Fuck," he hissed, staring at the glistening proof of my arousal with something close to reverence. "Look at you. Dripping for me." He dropped the panties to the floor, his gaze never leaving the sight of me... bare and exposed. "You wore lace," he murmured, voice thick with approval. "Like you knew I’d be peeling it off you."

I bit my lip, my face burning with a mixture of humiliation and desire I couldn’t reconcile. "I... I didn’t..."

"Liar." His thumb ghosted over my slit, teasing, but not quite touching where I needed him most, and I nearly sobbed with frustration. My hips jerked forward, chasing his touch, but he pulled back just enough to make me whine. "You came here soaked, Elena. Soaked for me." His fingers traced my folds, parting me slowly, deliberately, as though memorizing every inch. "Do you know how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you all night?"

I moaned, my head falling back against the mirror, the cold glass a stark contrast to the heat pooling between my thighs. "Jaxx... please..."

"Please what?" His thumb finally brushed over my clit, and I gasped, my nails digging into the counter hard enough to leave marks. "Use your words, Bambina. Tell me what you need."

I trembled, my body aching, begging for more even as my mind screamed warnings I couldn’t heed. This was wrong. He was wrong. And yet the wrongness felt like the only right thing in the world.

"You’re killing me," I whispered, my voice breaking under the weight of everything I refused to admit.

His chuckle was dark, triumphant, victorious in a way that should have infuriated me more than it did. "Good." Then, without warning, he sank to his knees, and the sight of him there... powerful, commanding, utterly unbothered by his own submission, stole what little breath I had left.

The first swipe of his tongue was devastating.

A slow, deliberate lick from my entrance to my clit, his groan vibrating against me like a second touch that undid something deep inside my chest. My fingers tangled in his hair, my thighs clamping around his head as he settled in, his mouth feasting on me like a starving man at a banquet he’d been denied for far too long.

"Oh God..." My voice came out raw, desperate, unrecognizable even to my own ears. His tongue flicked over my clit, fast and relentless, before flattening and lapping at me like he wanted to drown in me entirely. His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me wider, holding me open for his mouth, his tongue, his everything, and I let him to.

"Jaxx... fuck..." I cried out, my hips rolling shamelessly against his face, any pretense of restraint long abandoned. The sound of his mouth on me was obscene... wet, sloppy, filthy. And I loved it, loved the way it made me feel simultaneously worshipped and consumed.

His fingers dug into my skin, his grip bruising as he pulled me closer, his tongue fucking into me deep, then circling my clit with maddening precision that left me gasping. Each flick sent sparks through my veins. Each groan from his throat sent vibrations straight to my core, making me clench around nothing, aching for more of him.

"You taste so fucking good," he growled against me, his voice muffled but no less commanding for it. "Like sin. Like mine."

I whimpered, my body trembling on the edge of something enormous. "I... I can’t..."

"You can," he snapped, his fingers suddenly sliding up to tease my entrance with unbearable gentleness. "And you will." His thumb pressed against my clit, circling hard, and I screamed, my back arching off the counter as pleasure spiraled through me. "You’ll come on my tongue, Elena. And then you’ll come again. And if anyone walks in?" His lips curled against me, his breath hot and possessive. "They’ll see exactly what happens when you push me."

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through me, humiliation and arousal tangling until I could no longer tell them apart. The thought of being caught... of someone seeing me like this, wrecked and wanton on his mouth, should’ve horrified me. But it only made me hotter, made me want him more.

"Jaxx... please... I’m close..." My voice was a broken plea, barely holding together. My nails scraped against the marble, my body coiling tight, so tight I thought I might come apart entirely, and then his mouth was gone.

I whined, my hips jerking forward, chasing his touch with a desperation that should have embarrassed me. "No... don’t stop..."

His dark laugh sent a shiver through me, equal parts fury and longing. "Beg for it."

I hated him. Hated the way he could reduce me to this - trembling, begging, a slave to his touch when I’d spent so long convincing myself I was stronger than this. But I needed him. Needed his mouth, his tongue, his everything, more than I needed my pride.

"Please," I gasped, my voice breaking completely. "Please, Jaxx... I need your mouth. I need you to lick me. Make me come. Please..."

His grin was wicked, satisfied in a way that should have infuriated me. "Since you asked so nicely."

And then he dove back in.

His mouth sealed over me, his tongue plunging into my entrance before dragging up to my clit, his lips sucking, devouring me like he intended to leave nothing behind. His fingers gripped my ass, lifting me, angling me just how he wanted me - open, exposed, entirely his. His tongue worked me over, fast and hard, then slow and teasing, driving me wild with the contrast.

"Oh fuck... Jaxx... Jaxx..." My thighs trembled, my toes curling against his back as I ground against his face, shameless in a way I never thought myself capable of being. The sound of his mouth on me was lewd... wet, messy, perfect. And when his fingers finally slid inside me, deep, rough, I screamed loud enough that I feared the whole building might hear.

"Still so fucking tight," he growled, his fingers thrusting into me, curling, stretching me in ways that made my vision blur. "So wet. So sweet." His thumb pressed against my clit, circling fast, hard, relentless. "You like being eaten, Bambina? You like my tongue in your pussy while you sit there pretending you hate me?"

I moaned, my body rolling against his fingers, my walls clenching around him with a need I could no longer deny. "I do hate you."

He chuckled darkly, his breath hot against my skin, utterly unconvinced by my protest. "No, you don’t." His fingers pumped into me, his thumb grinding against my clit with unrelenting rhythm. "Your pussy loves me. She’s got better taste than you."

I gasped, my body teetering on the edge of an abyss I both feared and craved. "No... I can’t... I just..."

"Yes, you can," he snapped, his voice a whip that cracked through my resistance. "You’ll come until you can’t fucking walk."

And then I shattered.

My back arched off the counter, my body shaking as the orgasm ripped through me with a force that left me breathless. My pussy pulsed around his fingers, my walls milking them as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me, drowning every coherent thought. I screamed his name, my nails raking down his arm, my thighs trembling as he kept going... licking, sucking, fucking me through it without mercy.

But he wasn’t done.

His fingers slid out, only to plunge back in, harder, deeper, as if he intended to memorize every inch of my response. His mouth sealed over my clit, his tongue flicking fast, relentless. And when his free hand snaked up to pinch my nipple through the fabric of my dress, I screamed again, my body convulsing as another orgasm slammed into me, stealing whatever strength I had left.

"Jaxx... fuck..." My voice was raw, my body wrecked entirely. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. All I could do was feel... his mouth, his fingers, his everything consuming me whole.

When I finally collapsed back against the mirror, my chest heaving, my body trembling, Jaxx finally stood, his lips glistened with me, his chin wet, his eyes black with a hunger that hadn’t been sated in the slightest. He pulled his fingers from inside me, slick, glistening, coated in everything he’d just pulled from my body. And then, without breaking eye contact, he raised them to his mouth, and sucked... every. Last. Drop.

My face burned with a heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment anymore. My pussy throbbed, still pulsing from the aftershocks. And when he licked his lips, slow and deliberate, savoring me like the finest thing he’d ever tasted, I whimpered.

"Delicious," he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. Then he leaned in, his breath hot against my ear, his words a promise and a threat all at once. "But we’re not done yet, Bambina."

My stomach flipped, anticipation and exhaustion warring inside me.

His hand slid up my thigh, his fingers teasing my entrance again with unhurried confidence. "You think you can take more?"

I should’ve said no. Should’ve pushed him away and reclaimed whatever piece of myself remained untouched. But my body was his now... trembling, aching, begging for more in a language that needed no words.

His grin was dark, knowing, utterly certain of my answer before I gave it. "That’s what I thought."

Finally, he stood, his lips glistening as he licked them slowly, deliberately. His eyes still locked on mine. Then he leaned in close, brushing my hair behind my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine. "If you need me..."

He pulled my panties from the floor, tucked them into his suit pocket with a smirk. "...you know where to find me."