The waves of his orgasm receded slowly, leaving Jax floating in a sea of blissful satiation. The air was thick with the scent of sex and magic, a potent cocktail that was both intoxicating and invigorating.
The witches around him were still humming with pleasure, their hands and mouths continuing their reverent worship, lapping up every drop of his release as if it were the finest drink in the entire world.
The redhead who had taken the brunt of his load was being cleaned by her sister witches, their tongues gently tracing the lines of cum on her chin and breasts, their actions a mixture of eroticism and tender care.
For a moment, Jax simply basked in it. The sheer, overwhelming devotion was a drug, and he was a willing addict. But as the last tremors of his climax faded, a new, more primal need began to stir deep within him.
The pleasure had been immense, but it was merely an appetizer. His body, already recovering with supernatural speed, craved more.
