Chapter 2: Jax please...He doesn't let me catch my breath.One hand fists my hair, yanking my head back just enough to arch me harder. The other clamps my hip like he's anchoring himself against a storm. Every thrust slams forward — deep, punishing, claiming. The patrol car's leather creaks under us. My cuffed wrists strain against the headrest, metal biting skin in the best way."Fuck, you're tight," he growls against my ear. Teeth scrape my shoulder. "All that teasing on the hood... this what you wanted?"I can't form words yet — only gasps, moans that fog the tinted window. But my body answers for me.I push back.Figure eight.Even pinned like this, wrists bound, face down, I roll my hips in those slow, sinful loops. Forward push meets his thrust, then circle back — dragging him in a hypnotic grind that makes every inch feel different, deeper, filthier. The move milks him, squeezes, teases the head on the outstroke before swallowing him whole again.He falters. Just for a secon
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