Alpha Jax
My first time, my first orgasm, my first makeout, my first kiss was in the twelfth grade until I kissed him and saw what kissing was actually supposed to feel like.
His language was entirely inappropriate, yet it felt like I was floating on air, making me even wetter. Who knew being called a dirty horny girl and his whore could make me feel so good. I tugged on his hair harder, something he seemed to appreciate as he used his fingers in an even faster motion.
"Say my name, Scarlett."
"Alpha Jax," I breathed.
"Jax," he corrected me. "You stop saying my name, and I stop touching you."
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