Page 16 of Jordan

“It doesn’t feel as good as…”

“As a cock?” I finish for her.

“Yes, sir.”

I smile, let go of her chin and straighten, looking between her and Rafael. I wanted her to fuck him while I watched. Knowing she hasn’t had anything in that pussy of hers in months, it makes me want the first feel. What to do… What to do.

I drag a finger up her thigh and brush it over the slit of her pussy. She’s soaked. Slippery wet. Her eyes flutter shut.

“Are you going to let me fuck this pussy, Jordan?”

She whimpers, her hips thrusting against my finger. “Yes, sir.”

I graze my finger over her hole, barely pushing inside. She trembles. I slide it up and press down on her clit.

“Let me taste it?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Did you enjoy Rafael’s tongue?” I tease the outside of her clit with the pad of my finger.

Her legs are shaking.

“Y-yes, sir.”

I hum a sound of approval, leaning close to her ear. “You’ll enjoy mine more.” I take two steps back, and when my hand leaves her, she whines in disapproval. “Get up.” She gets to her feet and I crook my finger at her. She steps to me, her eyes never leaving mine. I like that she’s out of her element but is still obeying. I pinch her nipple, and she bites her lip, muffling her whimper. “Do you like being told what to do?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.

Her lips part. “By you,” she admits.

What a perfect answer.

“But not by anyone else?”

She shakes her head. “No, sir.”

“Unbutton my shirt.”

She reaches for the top button and undoes it, her fingers trembling. She moves to the next until she’s at the bottom and can’t go anymore.

“Untuck it,” I tell her, and she pulls it out of my pants. I hold my wrist to her, and she undoes the cuff link. Same with the other. Rafael is there to take them without me telling him to. He places them on the dresser and goes back to the bed. “Take it off,” I whisper as I lean in toward her to breathe in her sweet scent.

Her hands slip into my shirt, her palms brushing my chest and shoulders. She pushes it off, holding it out to drop it, but I say, “Put it on.”

Her brow furrows as if it’s a strange request. Maybe it is, but that’s too bad. I don’t have to repeat myself. She does as I say.

No question. No argument.

The black Armani shirt hangs off her frame in the most delicious way I’ve ever seen. My breath seizes in my lungs as I take her in. A beautiful angel wrapped in a sinful man’s clothing.

God, this girl is…

She is already mine, whether she likes it or not.

Chapter Eight

Jordan

His shirt is soft as a flower’s petals on my skin. His scent envelopes me more than the material of the shirt. Never in a million years did I ever think I’d be standing in front of my father’s best friend in nothing but his shirt. It feels amazing. Something I can’t begin to explain. I swear it’s all in the way he looks at me. Like he’s holding on by a thread. Like the smallest thing will snap that thread, making him lose control. Yet, when he speaks, he’s calm. Giving nothing away. But I can tell what’s going on behind those words. It’s something in his eyes.