Despite the pain and my own damn bullshit…
I’m still here.
I hang my head, smiling.
“I guess you’re right,” I say as he catches my smile with one of his own.
“Damn right I am. Now come on.”
His hand drops to mine, and he grabs it, twisting his fingers between mine. I breathe a sigh of relief. Jordan is holding my hand, and it feels really fucking good.
It’s warm and soft and strong.
So I let him pull me through the kitchen back into the bedroom. When we get to his bed, he stops, places his hands on my hips and pushes my shorts down.
“This okay?” he asks, bringing his lips close to mine.
I nod, my gaze drifting to his perfect mouth.
“More than okay,” I whisper as I kiss him, pulling him into me. I lean back, finding the bed with ease, and he follows me wordlessly.
He presses himself on top of me, his kiss slow and torturous. He kisses my mouth, the corner of my mouth, my jaw, my neck, my collarbone. Everywhere his mouth can reach. I close my eyes, relishing in the sweet warmth of his lips on my skin. His hands find my hips as he settles on top of me and his hardness slides against my own. Fuck, how does he do it?
How does he manage to get me so hard with just a touch or a kiss?
His hands travel over my body, over my muscles almost reverently.
“Can I fuck you again?” he asks, his voice a whisper against my mouth.
I’m taken aback by his request if only because no one’s ever asked me before. No one’s ever stayed long enough to ask that.
I nod, feeling my throat tighten. Words are suddenly very difficult. He kisses me, grinding his cock against me.
“I need to hear you say it,” he whispers.
“Yes.” My voice is barely audible and it shakes like hell. “You can fuck me whenever you want, Jordan. You don’t have to ask.” And then I say the thing I should not fucking say. “I’m yours.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fucking hell, Alex!
He smirks, the sight downright sexy as all hell as he licks his lips.
“Damn straight you are. Which is why I’m going to fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk into therapy tomorrow.”
I laugh. “Seems counter-productive, don’t you think?” I tease.
He kisses me with a laugh. “Who’s the one with the degree?” he snarks.
“Right, I forgot. You’re the boss.”I feel his dick pressed against mine, hard and wet, but he makes no move to grind on me or anything. Instead, he runs his fingers along my leg, up my thigh in that rhythmic fashionthat feels so soothing and relaxing, and my body softens beneath him.
“You like that, don’t you?” His voice is deep and serene. I nod. “You like when I touch you like this?” He traces his fingers up my hip, over my abs.
I suck in a breath. “Yes.”
My eyes fall shut as he continues to run his fingers over every dip and crevice, every inch of my body. It feels so good.
“You know what I like?” he asks, his voice warm and smooth.
“Hmm?”
