Chapter 2; Dirty Temptation 1.2

Jax didn’t waste time pretending to be polite.

The back door clicked shut and the world shrank to the leather seats, the rain drumming overhead, and the heat rolling off both of them. He slid in beside her—close enough that his thigh pressed against hers, solid muscle under the suit pants. Mara didn’t move away. She just watched him, chin tilted, waiting to see how far he’d push.

He reached out first. Slow. Deliberate. Two fingers hooked under her chin, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to meet his eyes. They were darker now, pupils blown wide.

“You sure about this?” His voice was rougher than before, like gravel dragged over silk.

Mara’s lips curved. “If I wasn’t, you’d already be back in the driver’s seat.”

That was all he needed.

His mouth came down on hers—hard, claiming, no gentle buildup. His tongue pushed past her lips like he’d been starving for the taste of her. Mara met him stroke for stroke, hands fisting in his lapels, yanking him closer. She tasted coffee on him, faint mint, the sharp edge of want. He groaned low in his throat when she bit his bottom lip, just enough to sting.

Jax’s hand slid into her hair, gripping at the nape, tilting her head back so he could devour her neck. Teeth grazed her pulse point, then sucked hard enough to leave a mark she’d have to cover tomorrow. She gasped—sharp, needy—and arched into him.

“Fuck, you sound good when you make that noise,” he muttered against her skin.

“Then make me make it again.”

He didn’t need telling twice.

His free hand found the hem of her skirt, bunching it up inch by inch until cool air hit the tops of her thighs. Lace thigh-highs, black garter straps, tiny matching thong already damp between her legs. Jax’s fingers traced the edge of the stocking, then higher, brushing the sensitive skin just under the lace.

“You wore these for me?” His voice was low, teasing, but there was heat behind it.

“I wear what I want.” She spread her thighs a fraction wider. Invitation. Challenge.

His hand slid between her legs, cupping her through the thin lace. She was soaked—could feel it herself, the slick heat coating her folds. Jax pressed the heel of his palm against her clit and rubbed slow, firm circles. Mara’s hips jerked up on instinct, chasing the pressure.

“Jesus,” he breathed. “You’re dripping for me already.”

“Stop talking and do something about it.”

He hooked a finger under the edge of her thong, yanked it aside. Two thick fingers slid through her wetness, coating themselves, then pushed inside her in one slow, deep thrust. Mara’s head fell back against the seat, mouth open on a silent moan. He curled them, found that spot that made her thighs tremble, and stroked it relentlessly while his thumb circled her clit.

“Like that?” he asked, voice dark.

“Harder.”

He gave it to her—fingers pumping faster, deeper, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet car. Mara’s hand shot down, gripping his wrist, not to stop him but to hold him there, make sure he didn’t pull away. Her other hand fumbled with his belt, yanking it open, zipper down, reaching inside to wrap around his cock.

He was thick—hot and heavy in her palm, already leaking at the tip. She stroked him in time with the way he fucked her with his fingers, thumb swiping over the head on every upstroke. Jax hissed through his teeth, hips bucking into her hand.

“You keep doing that and this ends before it starts,” he warned.

“Then fuck me already.”

He pulled his fingers free—slow, so she felt every inch slide out. Mara whimpered at the loss. Jax licked them clean right in front of her, eyes locked on hers, tasting her like she was dessert. Then he shoved his pants down just enough, cock springing free—thick, veined, flushed dark at the head.

He didn’t ask again. Just gripped her hips, lifted her like she weighed nothing, and pulled her onto his lap. Her knees straddled him, skirt rucked up around her waist, thong shoved to the side. The head of his cock nudged her entrance—hot, blunt, promising.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

Mara did. Eyes wide, lips parted.

He thrust up in one hard stroke, burying himself to the hilt.

She cried out—sharp, raw—walls clenching around him like a vise. He was big, stretching her perfectly, filling her so deep she felt him in her stomach. Jax’s hands clamped on her ass, holding her down, not letting her move yet.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “So tight. So wet. You feel that? That’s me owning you right now.”

Mara rolled her hips once—testing, teasing. Pleasure sparked up her spine. “Then move.”

He did.

He fucked up into her hard, fast, relentless. The car rocked with every thrust—leather creaking, windows fogging fast. Mara braced her hands on his shoulders, nails digging in through his shirt, riding him back just as rough. Her tits bounced under the half-unbuttoned blouse; he yanked the fabric open, bra shoved down, mouth latching onto one nipple—sucking hard, teeth grazing.

She moaned his name—loud, broken. “Jax—fuck—right there—”

He angled his hips, hitting that spot over and over. His thumb found her clit again, rubbing messy circles while he pounded into her. Sweat slicked their skin. The smell of sex filled the car—musky, raw, addictive.

“I’m close,” she gasped. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—”

“Come for me,” he growled against her neck. “Come all over my cock. Let me feel it.”

She shattered.

Her orgasm hit like a wave—hard, blinding. Walls pulsing around him, fluttering, milking him deep. She cried out his name again, body shaking, thighs trembling around his hips. Jax fucked her through it—harder, faster—chasing his own release.

When she went limp against him, panting, he flipped her onto her back across the seat. Legs over his shoulders. He drove back in—deeper this time, brutal strokes that made her gasp with every thrust.

“Gonna come inside you,” he rasped. “You want that?”

“Yes—fuck yes—fill me up—”

He buried himself deep one last time, cock throbbing as he came—hot spurts flooding her, leaking out around him. He groaned her name like a curse, hips jerking through the aftershocks.

They stayed locked together, breathing ragged, hearts hammering.

Rain still fell outside.

Neither of them moved to pull away.