Page 39 of Xander

Removing my fingers from her clit, I freed my cock from my trousers and ground against her.

She gripped my wrist. “I’m not on birth control,” she choked.

“I assumed, baby,” I whispered against her temple.

She might have gone off birth control in hopes of having a baby, but she had no idea which man planned on giving her one. The idea of planting a flag inside her womb, like I had conquered Mars, made my cock stir. I didn’t care how many times I knocked her up.

“I’ll give you everything he denied you, Jordan,” I vowed. “All you have to do is reach out and take it.”

I grabbed her thigh and pulled her leg around my back for better access to her center. My cock slid against her tight, wet cunt.

“Oh God⁠—”

I felt her toes curl around my torso. My fingers massaged her breast, my thumb brushing over her nipple.

“Fuck.” A gasp fell out of her mouth.

The friction from a different angle was her undoing. Her nails dug into my biceps, her back arching off the ground. She came again with a cry on her lips.

The sound sent jolts of pleasure through my body. Gripping her wrists, I held them by her head.

She only sobered when my cock pressed against her opening. With a hand over mine, she whispered, “We can’t come back from this.”

“And I don’t want to.” I thrust inside her wet heat, shuddering at what felt like coming home.

I should’ve let her get adjusted. Instead, I showed her no grace and slammed inside her with brutal force.

I fucked her as if it was a sacred ritual. The need for her was drowning me in shallow water. Her lips parted, but I couldn’t tell whether it was in protest or ecstasy. As her pussy clamped and trembled around me, I knew she was close. Liquid gushed out of her, soaking me, as the initial discomfort quickly turned into intense pleasure. Her thighs shook around me, but I didn’t stop. I took and took until she cried out once more. I found my release with a final shove, pulling her into the deep ocean with me.

“God,” she sobbed, too drunk and lust-high to care about morals.

A tear slid out of her eye. It was acutely reminiscent of the one she had once shed while bidding me goodbye.

This time, the lone tear had brought me back to her, back to heaven. It was exactly where I belonged, and I had no plans to leave again. Because what foolish man would give up his place in heaven for a second time?

Chapter

Thirteen

JORDAN

Past

“Jordan!”

Pressure closed over my bicep like a vise, and I looked up into the alcohol-reddened face of one of Henry’s fawning VPs.

“Great party,” he said, leering at me.

I glanced around the beautiful party, which in reality was a business event. Henry had asked me to organize it, though I hadn’t seen him yet and was cornered by his creepy associate instead.

This one was named Richard, and he liked staring at me for a little too long. Henry and his friends charmingly referred to him as “Diamond Dick” ever since he married a woman distantly related to one of the diamond baron families. An elegantly coiffed woman whose tasteful clothes spoke of the kind of breeding only generational wealth could instill.

Unfortunately, Diamond Dick’s wife was nowhere to be seen. Richard had come stag.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” I said stiffly, taking a discreet step out of reach when he tried to pull me into an embrace. The scent of his cologne was overpowering. “Can I get you anything?” I started to flag down a waiter brandishing a tray of canapés, wondering if I ought to take his keys just in case, but Richard closed the distance between us and grabbed my wrist.

“Where’s your fiancé?” he slurred.