Page 93 of The Chance

An animalistic noise rips from my throat and I wedge my arms beneath him, pushing until he’s forced to let go or cling to me as I lift. His upper body slams to the mattress when his hold finally breaks and I plant my hands on his pecs to shove him further back.

He bucks his hips up, and just when I think he’s going to throw me off, his hands land on my thighs and bring me back down with a grunt.

Right on his stiff cock.

Blood running hot, I blame the groan that escapes me on the anger and drive the heels of my palms into his solid chest.

“I’m not like them,” he growls and lifts again, pushing me forward, making me brace next to his head or go flying.

Still, his grip is steady when it migrates to my waist, holding me in place when I jerk from him.

“But youare!” I yell back and drop my weight, sitting fully across his groin. “Yet you were just about to be like everyone else. Readying the fucking excuses. Reasonswhy not.”

My heart squeezes in my chest, more tears spilling over my lashes as I drag my hips over his bulge.

“You’ve dangled yourself in front of me foryears.” I press down. “Pretending to be my best friend. Pretending to give a fuck. Well you got that last part.”

He pushes up, his fingers digging in with bruising force when another groan rips out of me.

“I’ve been with two people, Mac.” He pants. “And then there wasyou.”

I growl and give in to the movements, grinding against him unabashedly as something inside me snaps.

“Don’t you get it?” I pant out when his fingers find skin and trail up, pulling my shirt along with them and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “That makes you no different.”

“Feel me anyway.”

The shirt is pulled over my head, leaving it banded around my biceps as his hands fall to my fly and pop the button.

Leaning back with my heart in my throat, I toss the shirt somewhere.

Fingers dragging down my zipper, the back of his hand grazes my raging hard cockhead beneath the denim, and I almost choke on air.

“I don’t believe you,” I pant, though my hips work over his matching hardness, his digits dipping passed the elastic of my boxers and tugging.

My cock pops free and his fist wraps around me, jerking me fast and hard.

“Fuck, fuck—”

My back meets the mattress half a second before Jordan rips my pants from my legs.

I’m panting when he leans over me, his lips crashing to mine and stealing what little breath I could muster with each stroke of his tongue.

He gasps when he pops free, his sight clashing with mine, his nostrils flaring.

“I’m not like them.”

His head dips before I can make sense of that, lips meeting my neck and suckling over my hammering pulse. Lower. He trails kisses across my collarbone and down to a nipple he latches onto.

I’m aching with need when he makes it to the other one. Writhing beneath him when he goes lower.

His tongue dances around my belly button.

Lower.

“Jordan,” I rasp, his exploration leading him right to the trail of hair beneath my navel.

“Vida,” he murmurs right back with just as much rasp as his nose trails through the patch of hair, his breath tickling my skin.

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