And just like that, my body locks and I cry out as I’m hit with the most incredible pleasure I have ever experienced.
I’m still riding the high when his lips come back to mine, and it’s like wild animals have been set loose. We rip at each other’s clothes, feast on each other’s bodies. His skin is so warm, the salt of his sweat like ambrosia on my tongue. The dark space fills with my delirious whimpers and his masculine groans.
My shirt is pulled over my head, my bra torn from my chest, and Jordan’s mouth latches on to my nipple, sucking with long pulls that make my pussy throb with renewed desire.
“I need to fuck you.”
Breathlessly, I pant, “Okay.”
I’m not fully aware of the ramifications of my easy acquiescence. My brain is too fuzzy with lust and new sensations. My mouth is too busy kissing every inch of his neck and shoulder.
The pull of a zipper tugs at my waist, then cool air hits my heated core as my pants are pushed down. My hands, that are holding on to Jordan’s shoulders, lower as he drops to his knees. Because I can’t see what he’s doing, I’m about to ask him, but never get the chance because pleasure spikes my blood like a drug when his mouth covers me intimately.
“Oh god.” The things his tongue is doing to me. Amazing, marvelous things. My fingernails score into his skin, and he grunts. The vibrations cause a flurry of tingles and make me lose my mind.
“Please.”
What I’m pleading for, I have no idea. Another orgasm. A deep need to feel him inside me. Wanting his mouth to continue to do everything it’s doing now.
I barely notice when he lifts each foot and pulls my pants all the way off. I don’t stop him when his large, groping hands slide under my ass and lift me like I weigh nothing. And I don’t cry out in pain when he thrusts inside me, taking my virginity with ease.
All I hear is him telling me I’m perfect. That I’m beautiful. That he wants me.
All I taste is us as he claims my lips and kisses me tenderly.
All I feel is him. The definition of muscles. The heavy thrusts of his hips as he fucks me. The impending orgasm I’m seconds away from having. How he fills me and completes me. How warm his release feels when he climaxes. And how much I love him.
Jordan tenses and goes rigid like stone. “What?”
My eyes fly open. Did I say that out loud?
His arms suddenly drop away, and there’s nothing left to hold me up. I almost buckle and fall to the floor when my feet hit the cold concrete.
“Amelia?”
Did he just call me Amelia?
He’s mumbling something but his words are so slurred together, I can’t understand what he’s saying.
I reach out for him in the dark, and my hands are violently pushed away.
“Don’t fucking touch me. Get away from me.”
Tears sting my eyes at the rejection. Is that why he fucked me? So he could pretend I was my sister? Was I a substitute for the woman he’s still in love with but can’t have because she’s with another man?
“Jordan, I don’t understand.”
Because I don’t. None of this makes sense.
His breathing is ragged and unsteady. “I want you gone. I never want to see you again.”
Nausea roils violently in my stomach. I’m so stupid.
“Jordan, please tell me what’s wrong.”
A ball of fabric gets thrown at me and plops to the floor at my feet.
“Shut up and get out.”
