Page 67 of Not Over You
“Oh, brat, you know all the right things to say.” He released her breasts, cupped her ass and with a grunt and a couple of hard bucks, he was fully seated inside her.
They both let out low moans at how right, how perfect it felt being together like this once again.
“Like coming home,” he murmured, his mouth drifting across her jaw.
“Lassie came home.”
They both snorted a laugh and he shook his head, his grin enormous and beautiful. “And he’s never leaving again,” he said, beginning to pump in and out of her, his pubic bone grinding mercilessly against her clit in the perfect way.
She would be at the top of the mountain in no time.
“Jordan …”
“Rayma …”
“God, I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, baby. So fucking much.”
Tilting her head back, so he could suck on her neck, she closed her eyes and let the rest of her senses take over.
The woodsy, fresh scent of Jordan’s cologne surrounded her, mixed with the boat fuel, sawdust and that undeniable smell of sex. The sound of flesh slapping flesh and his ragged breathing combined with her soft moans filled her ears, and when she dropped her lips to his shoulder and slid her tongue along the tight, bunching muscle she tasted salt and Jordan. His unique flavor. All him. All delicious.
Every buck of his hips pistoned him in and out of her faster, harder, and deeper, she had to let go of his shoulders and grip the edge of the workbench to keep steady.
Holding her ass with one hand, his fingers digging brutally into the back of her thigh, he lifted the other hand and cupped her breast, dropping his mouth to the nipple and tugging with his teeth.
She gasped from the intense snap of pain but moaned just as quickly as that pain morphed into a pleasure she hadn’t felt in years. It was one thing to pull on your own nipples during sex, but when someone else did it, when someone else bit her nipples, it was just the most delicious kind of pain she’d ever experienced.
She was close, the slap of his pelvis against her clit, the way he split her open with his cock, hammering home, again and again, forcing her to stretch to accommodate his girth. She squeezed her muscles, welcoming him, drawing him deeper inside her, feeling every inch of his heated length graze her sensitive walls.
He switched his mouth to her other breast, bit down, then tugged and she shattered right then and there on the workbench in the most glorious, mind-bending, soul-shaking orgasm of her life.
Her body trembled with each luxurious wave as they rippled out from her core and into the rest of her tense body. Pleasure upon pleasure. Fabulous aches and tender throbs. She tightened her muscles around him, desperate to feel more of him inside her. Her toes curled and her fingers bunched, gripping the edge of the stainless-steel workbench until her knuckles ached.
But the orgasm didn’t cease, instead, it rolled into a second one that had her vision growing blurry as Jordan continued to thrust into her, once, twice, and then a third time, before he stiffened, paused, and let out a wild, masculine grunt, latching onto her shoulder with his teeth and breathing heavily against her back through his nose.
She felt every pulse of his cock as he found his release. Every spurt of his hot seed inside her. Claiming her once again as his.
But she’d never stopped being his.
She was Jordan’s for life and now that he’d given her his trust and revealed his darkness to her, they could move forward. They could have that life together, as it was meant to be.
Their chests heaved with ragged breaths as they both struggled to collect their shattered souls. She peeled her eyes open and lifted her head from where she’d leaned her cheek on his shoulder, riding the swells of her release.
Jordan unclenched his teeth from her shoulder, ran his tongue over the bite mark, then kissed it before lifting his head, a serene and almost goofy smile on his face.
“What’s that smile for?” she asked.
He shook his head, the goofy smile still there. “I’ve just never been so happy in my whole fucking life, and apparently I smile like an idiot when I’m this happy.”
Well, that drew an equally goofy smile from her, then soon they were both laughing.
Gently, he released her thigh from the vice grip of his fingers and slid free of her body. He found some paper towel beside the sink and ran it underwater before returning to her where she sat on the bench. He cleaned her up with the warm, damp towel, keeping his eyes on her as he did. They were both still grinning like idiots.
Once he’d cleaned her up, he helped her jump down from the bench and they retrieved their clothes, dressing in silence. But it wasn’t the awkward, tension-filled silence of earlier. Now, all that hung between them was hope. Hope and joy and excitement for what was to come next.
She was just tugging her boots on when Jordan—who had completely dressed again—grabbed a bottle of Lysol spray and more paper towels and went to work spraying down the workbench. “Don’t want Grant getting mad at us for having sex all over his shop.”