Twenty One: In Which She Makes A Run For It (Literally)

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[ B L A I R E ' S P O V ]

       The next day, I wake up with a throbbing headache.

I groan loudly, my hand flying over to my head, as if it somehow possessed magical powers to heal the pain. I try to get up into a sitting position, my elbows supporting my weight, only to realize that they meet with a cold hard surface.

It suddenly hit me that I've been sleeping on the goddamned floor.

What the fuck?

My vision soon comes into focus and my eyes widen when I see the state of the room.

Fuck, it's completely trashed.

The headboard of Jax's bed has completely fallen off, leaving just the mattress. One side of the curtains lay in a pile on the floor and I'm fairly certain that if I tugged the other side, the entire curtain pole would collapse.

Our clothes are everywhere—hung over the doorknob, thrown over the chaise and I'm pretty sure that's my bra on the chandelier.

Sweet mother of god, how freaky did we even get last night?

Everything comes flooding back to me, hitting me so hard I almost collapse back to the ground. Memories of Jax and I together last night make me dizzy.

I've lost count of the number of times we did it.

I remember him fucking me slowly in bed, and at some point during the night, he promised that he was going to fuck me on every single surface of this room. And god, I let him. He had me pinned against the wall, making love to me from behind. Fuck, that felt amazing. It was quick and dirty sex. And it didn't stop there. He bent me over the chaise of his room and took me swiftly again. I got my revenge, tackling him to the floor and riding the both of us to exhaustion until we were too tired to move. Hence, the reason how I ended up passed out on the floor with him.

I remembered how good he made me felt—definitely the best sex I've had. Ever. When my lips met his, all of my doubts disintegrated to nothing. I felt like I was being suspended in air, floating, flying, with nothing else weighing me down. My heart felt light, all of the burden fell from my shoulders, and in that moment, nothing else mattered but him.

He kissed me good, like I was experiencing my first kiss all over again. He kissed me breathless, stealing all the oxygen from my lungs. He kissed me dizzy, making my mind spin off-axis, crazy, crazy for him. He kissed me ferociously, like he had made up his mind about me and he wasn't backing down from it. Not now. Not ever.

His body—oh god, his body—is a work of art. I love the way our bodies joined together, as if it was made to fit. I love the way he responded to my touches, his skin burning alive under my fingers. I love the sound he makes when he's close to coming, his pants and his groans getting sexier and louder, making me lose it too. I love his mouth, his fingers, his tongue and what he can do with all three on my body.

Let's not even start with the monstrosity that he packed in his pants. I can't believe I managed to withhold from him for so long. I've been really missing out these past few weeks and it makes me pissed off as hell.

God, Jax's cock is  a masterpiece. It was like it was made for me; it knew exactly how to make me spiral off the edge. My pussy ached for his cock and it simply could not get enough of it. Just thinking about it makes my damn mouth water again.

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