Page 18 of Jordan

He grips my waist and spins me around. I meet Rafael’s eyes. I forgot he was here. Again. How does Enzo do that to me?

Enzo grips my hips and tugs me onto his lap, his dick sliding between my ass cheeks.

“This,” he hisses, sliding me back and forth over his erection. My hands find his thighs for balance and help guide myself along his shaft. With each pull, he moves me a little higher, a little closer to my entrance, and I’m aching for him to slip inside of me. I want to feel all of him. In me.

His breathing grows heavy, his hips thrusting against me from beneath. His strong thighs hold me up, the muscles beneath my fingertips tensing.

“I so desperately want to be inside you,” he says, causing my stomach to do a flip. “Are you ready for my cock, Jordan?”

“Yes,” I whimper, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip.

Rafael watches intently, the tent in his slacks telling me he’s enjoying the show. I’ve already formed an idea about him and Enzo, and I’m not sure how right I am, but the fact Rafael doesn’t move without Enzo’s say-so makes me think I’m pretty accurate.

“It’s going to hurt,” Enzo warns.

“I kn-know,” I answer.

His fingers dig into my hips. “I’ll let that one slide,” he says.

Shit. I’m trying to follow his rules. Part of me is worried if I don’t, he’ll tell my father, but the other part wants to please him. And I have no idea why.

He pulls me back, shifting so the tip of his cock slides forward, slipping over my hole and brushing my clit. I whimper at the sensation, the heat of his cock feeling so damn good against my sensitive area. I had an orgasm a short time ago, but the crazy thing is, I feel like I could have another, and that’s never happened before.

Enzo lifts me as if I weigh nothing and moves me so the tip of his cock is prodding at my entrance. He lowers me onto him. So. Fucking. Slowly.

At first, it isn’t bad. The feeling is fine. But the deeper he goes, the tighter it is, the more it hurts. It isn’t horrible, nothing like the first time, but it isn’t comfortable either.

Enzo lets out a deep, satisfied groan once I’m fully seated on him. My hands are shaking.

“Let me show you how I like it,” he whispers in my ear. Goosebumps erupt across my skin. My heart skips a beat. With his hands still on my hips, he guides me up and down. I use my hands on his thighs and my feet on the ground to get into a rhythm he helps me find. He lifts me up, and when I’m fully on him again, he grinds into me, reaching spots I didn’t know could feel so good. So I do that too. I lift up and grind onto him once I’m seated. He has me go slow, enjoying the feel of him, savoring every inch going in and out of me—and there are a lot of inches.

“You learn so quickly, my sweet angel,” he praises, loosening his grip on my hips and giving me more control to do it myself. I listen for his cues to tell me he’s enjoying it. The fact his breathing keeps increasing and the smallest grunts sound every now and then is what has me confident enough to keep going. I love that I can make him feel good. It fills me with a sense of pride I’ve never felt before. This powerful and handsome man is enjoying me. My body. I’m making him feel good.

There’s a spot inside me, something he keeps hitting that feels especially good. I’ve never felt anything like it. Zach certainly never reached that spot before.

I lose myself in the feeling of him inside me, his warm body behind me, his shirt around me, his fingers digging into my skin. He lifts me again, and I whimper when he pulls himself all the way out. He pushes me to my feet. My legs are weak, but he holds onto me so I get my balance. I’m panting when I turn to face him. I bet my cheeks are as red as a tomato.

He points to the ground. “On your knees.” I drop to them, and he scoots forward.

“Have you sucked cock before?”

“Not one so big,” I say.

He huffs out a sound that almost sounds like a laugh, and it has my chest warming.

I made him laugh.

“Clean your pussy juice from my cock, Jordan,” he demands. Any sense of humor is gone from his tone.

I bring my gaze to his glistening cock.

I’ve never tasted myself. I’d sucked Zach off a couple times when he told me he was too tired for sex, but that’s it.

I lean forward, hesitating when I smell myself on him. It’s not that I’m afraid or worried or even disgusted, I’m—I don’t know. It’s just new.

“I gave you an order,” Enzo says. “Do I need to—”

I take him into my mouth, sucking on the tip. He groans, his hand finding the back of my head. I don’t hate the way I taste on him. It’s sharp, tangy, but almost sweet in a way.