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Jax

I close the door behind Claire, her floral scent still lingering in the air. My pulse races as I picture her captivating eyes, the curve of her lips as she smiled at me. I lean back against the door, desire coursing through my veins. I can't stop thinking about her—the way she moved with such confidence in the kitchen, the passion in her voice as she spoke about flavors and techniques. My body responds to the mere thought of her.

I make my way to the bedroom, images of Claire dancing through my mind. Settling onto the bed, I recall the first time I saw her. It was one of her blog videos, where she was demonstrating a decadent chocolate soufflé. I was transfixed by her charisma, the way she commanded the screen. I must have watched that video a dozen times, studying every nuance of her expressions, every graceful gesture of her hands.

My fingers tremble slightly as I unbutton my jeans, freeing my hardened cock. I wrap my hand around the shaft, stroking slowly as I lose myself in fantasies of Claire. I imagine her here with me, her soft skin pressed against mine, her breath hot against my neck. I picture her hands exploring my body, teasing and arousing me until I'm aching for her touch.

The truth is, she's the reason I uprooted my life and moved to this small town. When I learned my uncle had left me the inn, it felt like fate—a chance to finally meet Claire in person, to find a way into her world. Some might call it obsession, the way I've followed her career, the way I've dreamed of her late at night. But to me, it's an irresistible pull, a need to know her, to unravel the mysteries that lie beneath her vibrant surface.

My hand moves faster now, urgency building as I lose myself in the fantasy. I imagine tasting her, savoring her essence like a gourmet meal. I picture her writhing beneath me, her lips parted in ecstasy as I bring her to the brink of pleasure again and again. The bed creaks softly as my hips rock in rhythm with my strokes, chasing the release that hovers just out of reach.

Claire's name falls from my lips like a prayer as I reach my climax, spilling over my fist with a shuddering groan. For a moment, I simply lie there, chest heaving, lost in the afterglow of my desire. But even as the physical urgency fades, the longing remains—a hunger that can only be sated by the real thing. One way or another, I vow to myself, I'll find a way to make Claire mine.

No matter what it takes.

The next day, I wake early, the memory of my steamy dreams still lingering in the back of my mind.

Claire laying underneath, her hair splayed out around her as I claimed her as mine…

The taste of her pussy…

The way her eyes looked up at me as she had my cock between her swollen lips…

My cock is rock hard, but I ignore it. Instead, I shower and dress, my movements efficient but preoccupied. She’s coming over again today, and I can hardly wait.

My cock is leaking just thinking about it. The fucking girl has me in a current state of arousal.

I'm in the kitchen when I hear the sound of her heels clacking confidently down the hallway. My heartbeat quickens as I picture her, a vision in her trademark apron, hair falling in loose waves around her flushed face. The kitchen door swings open, and there she is, every bit as breathtaking as always. "Morning, Jax," she greets me prettily. “What tricks have you got up your sleeve today?”

"Oh, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve," I say, allowing my voice to drop into a lower register. We share a charged moment, both of us aware of the electricity crackling between us. "But first," I add, clearing my throat, "I thought we could start with a Thanksgiving classic. Turkey and stuffing."

"Now that's my kind of language," she teases, and we both laugh, the tension temporarily dispersed. We set to work side by side, the scents of pine and cinnamon swirling around us as we begin preparing the feast. Despite the growing heat in the kitchen, I find myself drawn to her like a moth to flame.

As we work, I make a point of brushing past her "accidentally," my body thrumming with awareness each time our skin touches. I catch her glancing at me through lowered lashes, and I know she feels it too. The chemistry between us is undeniable, as potent as the aromas wafting through the air.

And I dare to hope that this beautiful creature wants me too.

As the morning sun filters through the windows, casting dappled shadows on her face, I can't help but recall the countless nights I've spent watching her online, fantasizing about this very moment. I've imagined every curve of her body, every breathy moan she'd utter as I taste my way across her skin. It's all I've thought about since I saw her for the first time, cooking up that decadent concoction with a flirty smile and a twinkle in her eye.

I'd known then and there, with a bone-deep certainty, that I needed her in my life. And now, here she is, standing just inches away from me, her delicious scent mingling with the mouthwatering fragrances of our Thanksgiving feast.

As we work side by side, chopping vegetables and prepping ingredients, I find myself drawn into conversation with Claire, eager to learn more about her life and passions. "So, what brings you to our little corner of the world?" she asks, her eyes bright with curiosity. "I heard you inherited the inn from your uncle?"

I nod, a wistful smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, it was unexpected. He passed away a few months ago, and I found out he'd left me this place in his will. It felt like a sign, you know? A chance to start fresh, to build something of my own."

Claire's expression softens with sympathy. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says gently. "It must have been a big decision, leaving your old life behind like that."

"It was," I agree, my gaze drifting to the window, where the autumn leaves dance in the breeze. "But sometimes, you just know when it's time for a change. When an opportunity presents itself, you have to grab it with both hands."

My words hang in the air between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. I can feel Claire's eyes on me, searching my face for clues to the secrets I'm not yet ready to reveal. The truth is, my uncle's death was just the catalyst I needed to finally pursue my obsession with her. But I can't tell her that, not yet. Not when I've just begun to earn her trust.

Instead, I steer the conversation back to safer ground, regaling her with tales of my culinary adventures in the city. She listens intently, her laughter ringing out like music as I describe some of my more disastrous experiments in the kitchen. All the while, I'm acutely aware of her presence beside me, the heat of her body, the brush of her arm against mine as we work.

As the morning wears on, the tension between us grows, simmering like a pot on the verge of boiling over. Every accidental touch, every lingering glance feels charged with electricity, until the air practically crackles with it. And when Claire reaches across me for a spice jar, her fingers grazing my hand, I can't help but let out a soft hiss of breath.

She glances up at me through her lashes, her cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry," she murmurs, but I can tell by the gleam in her eye that she's not sorry at all.

"No problem," I manage, my voice rougher than usual. "I'm just excited to get this turkey stuffed. Among other things."

The words slip out before I can stop them, laced with innuendo. Claire's eyes widen, and she bites her lip, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of pink at my bold innuendo. She tries to play it cool, busying herself with the stuffing mixture, but I can see the effect my words have had on her. The air between us is thick with tension, crackling with unspoken desire.

I step closer, crowding into her personal space until I can feel the heat radiating off her body. She keeps her eyes downcast, focused intently on her task, but her hands tremble slightly as she works. I reach out, my fingers grazing the delicate skin of her wrist, and she sucks in a sharp breath.

"Careful," I murmur, my voice low and intimate. "Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

Claire swallows hard, finally meeting my gaze. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with arousal. "I can handle myself just fine," she says, but her voice wavers slightly.

I lean in even closer until my lips are just a hairsbreadth from her ear. "Oh, I have no doubt about that," I breathe. "But sometimes it's more fun to let someone else take the reins, don't you think?"

She shivers, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. When she opens them again, there's a new intensity burning in their depths. "Is that what you want, Jax?" she asks, her voice husky. "To take the reins?"

I let my gaze travel slowly down her body, taking in every lush curve, every tantalizing inch of her. "Oh, sweetheart," I drawl. "You have no idea what I want to do to you."

Fuck, it’s all I can do to hold back. My cock is dripping precum in my pants, and I’m surprised she hasn’t noticed the obscene tent it’s making yet.

Claire's breath hitches, her lips parting slightly. I can practically taste her desire, sweet and heady on my tongue. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to close the distance between us, to claim her mouth with my own and lose myself in her intoxicating kiss.

But I force myself to hold back, to savor the delicious tension building between us. I want to draw this out, to tease and tantalize her until she's trembling with need, until she's begging me for more.

Until there’s absolutely no way she’ll deny me.

My cock throbs insistently against the confines of my jeans, hard as steel and aching for her touch. I shift slightly, trying to ease the pressure, but it's no use. Every movement, every brush of fabric against my sensitive skin only serves to heighten my arousal.

Claire's gaze flickers downward, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in the prominent bulge at the front of my pants. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, a seemingly unconscious gesture that sends a bolt of pure lust straight to my groin.

She blushes furiously, tearing her gaze away from my crotch. "I...we should get…” she trips over her words and trails off.

I lean in closer, my lips grazing the shell of her ear. "What's the matter, Claire?" I murmur, my voice a low rumble. "Feeling a little flustered?"

She shivers, her breath coming faster now. "I...we have a lot of work to do," she manages, but her voice lacks conviction.

"Mmm, that we do," I agree, letting my fingers trail lightly up her arm. "But I think we can spare a moment, don't you?"

Claire's eyes flutter closed as my touch ignites sparks across her skin. "Jax..." she breathes, my name a plea and a warning all at once.

I nuzzle into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. She smells like cinnamon and desire, an intoxicating combination that makes my head spin. Fuck, I’m drowning. "God, you're irresistible," I groan, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her racing pulse. “I bet you're sweet as maple syrup aren’t you, sugar?”

A soft whimper escapes her, and I feel her melting into me, her resistance crumbling under the onslaught of sensation. Emboldened, I let my hands roam her curves, mapping the dips and swells of her body through the thin fabric of her dress.

Claire arches into my touch, a breathy moan falling from her lips as I cup her breast, kneading the soft flesh. Her nipple pebbles against my palm, and I can't resist giving it a light pinch, relishing the way she jerks and gasps in response.

"You like that, sweetheart?" I rasp, my voice rough with need. "You like it when I touch you?"

"Yes," she hisses, grinding her hips against me, seeking friction. "God, yes."

I capture her mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans as our tongues tangle and dance. She tastes like heaven, sweet and addictive, and I know I'll never get enough. My hands find the hem of her skirt, slipping beneath to stroke the silky skin of her thighs.

Claire's hands fist in my hair, holding me to her as she kisses me back with abandon. I can feel the heat of her through her thin panties, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to rip them away and bury myself inside her right here in the kitchen.

But I want to savor this, to take my time worshipping every inch of her until she's writhing and desperate, until she forgets her own name. Reluctantly, I break the kiss, my breathing ragged as I rest my forehead against hers.

"Later," I promise, my voice a dark whisper full of sinful intent. "After dinner, I'm going to spread you out on my bed and feast on you until you scream."

Claire shudders, her eyes glazed with lust as she stares up at me. "

Claire shudders, her eyes glazed with lust as she stares up at me. "Promises, promises," she murmurs breathlessly, a coy smile playing at the corners of her kiss-swollen lips.

I chuckle, low and dark, my fingers still teasing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. "Oh, I always keep my promises, sweetheart. You'll see."

With a supreme effort of will, I force myself to step back, putting a modicum of distance between us before I lose control entirely and take her right here against the kitchen counter. My cock throbs painfully, straining against my zipper, but I ignore it.

There will be time enough for that later. For now, I intend to revel in the delicious anticipation, to let the tension build until it's a living, breathing thing between us.

Claire takes a shaky breath, smoothing her hands over her skirt in a futile attempt to compose herself. "We should...we should get back to work," she says, but her voice lacks conviction.

"Mmm, I suppose we should," I agree, though I make no move to do so. Instead, I let my gaze travel over her leisurely, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, her heaving chest, the way her nipples press against the thin fabric of her blouse. "Wouldn't want to leave our guests unsatisfied, now would we?"

The double entendre hangs heavy in the air between us, and Claire's breath hitches. "No," she says softly, her eyes locked on mine. "No, we wouldn't want that."

Slowly, deliberately, I reach out and trail a finger along the delicate line of her collarbone, relishing the way she shivers at my touch. "Then let's get to it," I murmur, my voice a velvet caress. "We've got a feast to prepare."

And oh, what a feast it will be. The thought of finally tasting her, of burying myself in her sweet heat and feeling her come undone around me, is almost more than I can bear. But I am a patient man, and I know that the wait will only make the eventual payoff that much sweeter.

For now, I content myself with stolen glances and fleeting touches as we work side by side, our bodies brushing tantalizingly as we move around the kitchen. Every accidental caress, every heated look, only serves to stoke the flames of my desire, until I'm practically vibrating with the need to claim her.

By the time the turkey is in the oven and the side dishes are prepped, I'm wound tighter than a bowstring, my control fraying at the edges. Claire seems to sense it, her own movements growing more languid, more deliberately provocative as the day wears on.

As she reaches up to grab a spice from the top shelf, her blouse rides up to reveal a tantalizing strip of skin at her waist.

My throat goes dry.

Claire's blouse inches up higher as she stretches for the spice jar, exposing the smooth expanse of her lower back. My breath catches at the tantalizing glimpse of bare skin. Without thinking, I step up behind her, my chest pressing against her back as I easily reach the jar she was straining for.

"Here, let me help with that," I murmur, my lips grazing her ear. She shivers, a soft gasp escaping her parted lips as she leans back into me. I set the spice aside, my hands coming to rest on her hips, fingers teasing along the waistband of her skirt.

"Jax..." she breathes, half warning, half plea. I nuzzle into the crook of her neck, drinking in her intoxicating scent.

"You smell incredible," I rasp, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her throat. "Good enough to eat."

Claire whimpers, tilting her head to give me better access even as she weakly protests. "We can't...the turkey..."

I chuckle darkly, nipping at her earlobe. "Fuck the turkey. I'd rather stuff you instead."

She shudders, a needy moan spilling from her lips as she rocks back against me. I'm painfully hard, my cock throbbing insistently against the curve of her ass. Sliding my hands up her sides, I cup her breasts, kneading the soft mounds through the thin fabric of her blouse.

"You feel what you do to me?" I growl, grinding against her. "How fucking hard you make me? I've been half out of my mind wanting you."

Claire arches into my touch, her head falling back onto my shoulder. "Jax, please..."

I turn her in my arms and claim her mouth in a searing kiss, hot and hungry and full of pent up desire. She opens for me beautifully, her tongue tangling with mine as I walk her backwards until she hits the counter. Hoisting her up, I step between her parted thighs, my hands pushing her skirt up around her hips.

She wraps her legs around my waist, heels digging into my ass as she pulls me closer. I can feel her heat through the damp lace of her panties, and it takes every ounce of restraint not to rip them off and bury myself inside her right here.

But I want to savor this, to take my time worshipping her until she's mindless with pleasure. Trailing my lips down the elegant column of her neck, I leave a path of hot, open-mouthed kisses across her collarbone as my fingers work the buttons of her blouse.

Claire's hands fist in my hair, holding me to her as she arches into my touch. Popping the last button, I push the fabric aside, groaning at the sight of her luscious curves encased in delicate white lace. "Fuck, you're stunning," I breathe reverently, tracing a finger along the scalloped edge of her bra.

Claire flushes prettily under my heated gaze. "Touch me, Jax," she pleads, her voice breathy with need. "I want your hands on me."

I'm only too happy to oblige. Reaching behind her, I deftly unhook the clasp, freeing her breasts from their lacy confines. They spill into my waiting hands, soft and supple, the rosy peaks already puckered and begging for attention.

Lowering my head, I capture one aching nipple between my lips, swirling my tongue around the sensitive bud. Claire cries out, her back bowing as she fists her hands in my hair. I lavish her with attention, suckling and nipping until she's writhing against me, desperate for more.

My other hand skates down her trembling stomach to slip beneath the waistband of her panties. She's dripping wet, her slick folds parting easily as I tease along her slit. "Always so ready for me," I groan against her breast. "So fucking responsive."

"Please," she whimpers, hips canting shamelessly into my touch.

I circle her clit with the pad of my thumb, relishing her sharp intake of breath. Slowly, torturously, I ease one long finger inside her, then two, pumping in a steady rhythm that has her mewling and panting my name like a prayer.

And then I feel the barrier of her hymen, and I swear I jizz a little in my pants when the realization hits me.

A virgin. Mine . All mine. Claire will only ever belong to me .

She's tight and scorching hot around my fingers, her inner walls fluttering wildly as I bring her closer and closer to the edge, careful not to break the barrier of her virginity. No, I’m doing that with my cock.

I keep gently fucking her with my fingers, though. I can tell she's close by the desperate pitch of her cries, the erratic buck and roll of her hips against my hand.

"That's it, baby," I coax hotly, curling my fingers to stroke that secret spot deep inside her. "Let go for me. I want to feel you come all over my hand."

Claire shatters with a sobbing cry, her head thrown back in ecstasy as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her. I work her through it, prolonging her bliss until she's boneless and trembling in my arms.

Slowly, reluctantly, I ease my fingers from her still quivering body, bringing them to my lips to savor her essence. She watches me through heavy-lidded eyes, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

"You taste divine," I tell her, my voice ragged with desire. "But I'm not nearly done feasting on you yet."

Her eyes widen as I sink to my knees before her, hooking my fingers in her ruined panties and dragging them down her shapely legs. Tossing them aside, I nudge her thighs further apart, exposing her beautiful folds.

I pause, gazing at Claire's glistening pussy, savoring the sight of her spread open before me. She's perfect, pink and swollen and dripping with arousal. My mouth waters with the need to taste her.

"Jax..." Claire whimpers, her voice thick with need. "Please..."

I smirk up at her. "Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want."

She flushes, biting her plump lower lip. "I want…I don’t know, but I need..."

Fuck, hearing her beg for it nearly undoes me. I lean in, inhaling her intoxicating scent. "I know what you need, baby," I murmur, before swiping my tongue along her slick folds.

Claire bucks, crying out at the first intimate touch. I grip her hips, holding her steady as I set to work, laving her sensitive flesh with long, slow licks. She tastes exquisite, tangy and sweet, and I groan against her, the vibrations making her tremble.

I take my time, exploring every inch of her, teasing out each breathy moan and desperate whimper. Claire's hands fist in my hair as I circle her clit with the tip of my tongue, flicking the swollen bud until she's writhing mindlessly.

"Oh god, Jax, yes! Right there, don't stop!" she pants, grinding against my face. I seal my lips around her clit and suckle hard, plunging two fingers deep into her tight channel.

Claire unravels with a keening wail, her virgin pussy clenching rhythmically around my fingers as the orgasm tears through her. I lap at her greedily, prolonging her ecstasy, until she sags back against the counter, utterly spent.

Slowly, I rise to my feet, licking her essence from my lips. Claire watches me with hooded eyes, her chest heaving. I lean in, claiming her mouth in a filthy kiss, letting her taste herself on my tongue.

She moans into the kiss, clutching at my shoulders. I'm painfully hard, my cock straining insistently against my zipper, but I force myself to pull back. I want her in my bed for what comes next.

And then the fucking timer goes off on the oven.