Sunlight cuts through the half-open blinds and hits my face first. My body feels heavy, used, deliciously sore in places I forgot could ache this good. Jax's arm is slung over my waist, his chest pressed to my back, and his c**k is still inside me. Soft now, but thick enough that I feel every tiny shift when he breathes. His c*m from last night has dried in sticky patches on my inner thighs, mixed with fresh slick I leaked while I slept. The sheets are a wreck beneath us, damp in spots, smelling like s*x and sweat and him.
I clench around him experimentally. He stirs behind me, a low groan rumbling in his throat. His hips rock forward once, lazy, pushing his softening length a little deeper. My p***y flutters in response, already waking up hungry again.
"Morning," he mumbles against my n
