Page 18 of Pucking Forbidden

“Such a good little princess,” he breathes. “You fall apart on my cock like you were born to do it, Sutton.”

Maybe I was. It certainly feels that way with him inside me, trying to claim my soul with every wicked thrust. I claw down his back and bite him, feral with pleasure. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. It’s six years of desire and pain. Six years of loving this man from afar. I need more, until he’s just as wrecked as I am.

He gives it to me, fucking me until one orgasm bleeds into another, and every ruthless thrust has his name falling from my lips in a broken crack of sound. He’s everywhere, whispering filth and sweetness in my ear in equal measures, demanding one more, one more, one more…until I have no more to give.

Every inch of me is overly sensitive, covered in sweat and his marks. Every thrust has me clenching and clamping around him, quivering through aftershocks and trembling on the edge at the same exact time.

“You look so perfect wrecked for me,” he groans, planting the sweetest kiss against my lips as tears roll down my cheeks.“Christ, Sutton. This is heaven. My fucking balls ache, but I don’t want to stop. Give me one more. Just one more, princess.”

He’s not demanding this time. He’s pleading, the words leaving his lips in a ragged whisper, as if he needs it more than he needs air. And I can’t tell him no. Every nerve in my body is screaming, every touch so intense it borders on pain…but I can’t tell him no. He’s my weakness, and his desire is mine. It’s always been mine.

I shatter around him one final time with a whimper, coming so hard the whole world goes white. There’s no sight, no sound…just peace.

And then I hear him groaning my name as he plants himself deep, shuddering on top of me. His cock jerks inside me, his seed hot as it spills from him, making me his in a way that’s all too real…and all too beautiful.

He falls on top of me, gasping my name, wrapping me up in his arms. His chest heaves as he sucks in gulps of air, running his lips across my face in fervent devotion. He kisses up every tear, holding me so tightly that I cry again. Not in pleasure this time, but in pain. Because this should have been ours five years ago. All that time wasted. All those years hurting. And for what? I don’t know.

But in this moment, part of me hates my brother for what he stole from us. And part of me hates me, too, because I let it happen. Because I, stupidly, trusted him.

Jamison engineered our demise, long before we ever had a chance…and I was stupid enough to let it happen.

Half an hour later, Jordan and I are still tangled together, holding each other like the world might rip us from each other’s arms if we loosen our holds even an inch. My arms ache, but I don’t want to let him go. Neither of us has spoken, either.

I’m a little afraid to voice the thoughts and fears in my head and ruin this moment…ruin us before we even have a chance to find our way again. It’s happened once already. I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes…which means I have no choice. We have to talk.

Is this just one day to him? Does he want more, or is the past too heavy to cast off? I don’t know. Part of me worries that maybe this is his way of saying fuck you to my brother…of punishing him. But that isn’t Jordan. I know that much. But that’s about all I know at this point.

“We should talk,” I finally whisper into the silence.

He sighs heavily, his finger slipping from my hair. “I know.”

“Um…”

“We’re playing your brother next game.”

I stir uneasily, peeking up at him to find him staring at the wall across the room, his expression dark. “Are you…” I clear my throat. “Are you going to tell him about us?”

His gaze flies to mine, one brow arched. “You think that’s what this is, princess? A way for me to fuck him over?”

“No, I…” I swallow and then shrug, unable to lie to him. “The thought may have crossed my mind, but I know that isn’t you.”

“You’re right. It isn’t me.” He curves his hand around my jaw, tipping my head back. “What’s between us has nothing to do with your brother. This is about you and me and what’s always been between us, Sutton.” His lips brush mine. “From day fucking one, I wanted more than I should have.”

I pull back to look at him. “You never said anything.”

“You were still seventeen when we met, baby.” Guilt flickers across his expression. “Maybe I felt like an asshole for wanting what I knew I shouldn’t.”

“Jordan.” My heart clenches and twists. “You really think that?”

He shrugs, his gaze sliding from mine. “You weren’t even legal, Sutton. And you were my best friend’s sister. So, yeah, I felt like an asshole. I tried like hell not to feel it. I tried to ignore it. I tried every-goddamn-thing to pretend it away back then.”

I stare at him for a long moment, turning over his revelation. Scrutinizing his expression. And then I gasp. “You let Jamison lie to me because of it, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t say anything, but the truth is painted across his face. And that breaks my heart for him. He didn’t destroy his life to protect my brother’s secret. At least, not entirely. He did it because… God, because he didn’t feel worthy of me. That makes me want to cry.

“You couldn’t help the way you felt, Jordan. Just like I couldn’t help it,” I whisper, reaching for his hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Not sure the rest of the world would agree, princess.”

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