Page 47 of Forbidden Love Still Blooms

“I don't have anything for you.”

He twitches. “Now who's denying the other person?”

A blush dusts over my cheeks, but I press on. “Not letting me come isn't life threatening.”

Jordan's eyebrows knot together. I realize what I've said, but it's too late to take it back. “Is that what's happening? Is Dezmond threatening your life?”

“No.”

“Tell me the truth, Lorikeet.”

“I saidno.He's not.” I challenge him with a stern glare. “I'll give you this much. The only one putting me in any danger isyou,Jordan. These questions, the way you probe into everything I do? That's making my life harder than ever. Is that what you wanted me to say?”

My frustration is clear, I'm unable to hide the passion from my voice. Jordan is the knot in my well-hung threads. He's been a blockade since the beginning, always interfering in my attempts to rid myself of Dezmond.

He doesn't budge. Not even his pupils move, they're fixed on mine with such intensity I struggle not to wilt. His lips are still in a frown when he kisses me. They're twisted up, and even so, they drive me wild. How can a pair of lips create as much sweltering heat as his fingers tracing along my panties had?

Closing my eyes, I sink into the kiss. It functions as an escape from the tough conversation he keeps trying to engage me in. How many times can I explain to him that my secrets are mine alone? I've denied him over and over. Each time gets harder, and I worry there's a magical number where I give in and break and let him see the horrors I'm hiding away.

“Thank you,” he says against my lips. My eyes pop open; he's simmering, voice pure grit. “All I wanted was an answer.”

My eyebrows scrunch tightly. “I didn't tell you anything.”

“You did. More than you meant to, I think, but it counts. It's enough for now.”

Panic stirs in my chest, shutting me up as I work backwards to remember what I said. Did I slip up? The claws in my skull are swept away when Jordan kisses me again—harder, firmer, his tongue mixing with mine until my senses are buttery nothingness.Focus, you can't let your guard down!

Then he reaches, cups my sex, and I stop caring.

“So god damn wet,” he growls, lowering to lick my throat. His mouth is hot as fresh coffee. It wakes me up with a bolt ofneed.“My sweet girl needs to come, doesn't she?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

“Should I give it to you?”

“Yes, please!”

“Do you deserve it?” he teases, teeth scraping lightly to my ear where he nips. He speaks directly into my brain. “Can you be my good little slut, Lorikeet? Or are you waiting to show me your claws again?”

“I'll be good.” It comes out as a raspy groan. His dirty talk is intoxicating, stoking the most perverse parts of my mind, the dark corners in my heart, and I amherefor it. I want it as bad as he does. No, I want it more.

“Say it, then,” he demands. He curls his hand in my hair, making me look him in the eye. “Look at me and tell me you're my cute little slut.” He pets my slit, exhaling sharply. “Fuck, I felt how much wetter you got when I said that.”

My pussy flutters, squeezing angrily at the emptiness. “Jordan …”

His grip tightens—I suck air through my teeth. “Say. It.”

“I'm your cute little slut,” I answer. His green eyes focus on my beige ones, demanding I don't break away. His nostrils flare as he watches me. One finger plays lazily with my swollen clit, the urge to come rising faster by the second. “You win, so please, fuck me already. I can't handle being teased like this.” The edging is delicious torture.

He smiles like a man who's won a war. I guess he did. “Don't worry, sweet bird. I'll take care of you.” One hand presses my chest to hold me against the desk. The hard wood digs into my lower back, but it can't distract me from what he's doing — nothing can.

In a single yank he forces my dress down my shoulders, over my breasts, taking my bra down to my rib cage with the motion. My nipples are exposed to the air. His lip curls, showing his teeth; he's on the verge of going feral.

Reaching up, he plucks the pen from behind his ear. “Don't move an inch,” he instructs me.

I try my best, but my chest rises and falls like the ocean waves. He's satisfied though because he lowers the pen to my left breast. He says nothing, waiting for my silent understanding, maybe my approval.

I arch my spine towards him. "Do whatever you want to me."

---