Chapter 27 Jordan
JORDAN
My eyes flutter open, and the first thing I see is Matei.
He's here, asleep. Like, actually asleep.
That's a first.
Usually, he's already up by the time I open my eyes. Showered, dressed, and sitting at his desk with a cup of coffee. But right now, he's here, his face relaxed, no tension or sharpness in his gaze.
I watch him for a moment, letting my eyes trace the hard lines of his face. The sexy stubble along his jaw. The dark lashes resting against his cheekbones. His chest bare, the ink on his skin seemingly darker against the white sheets.
I reach out, my fingertips grazing his jaw. The stubble scrapes lightly against my skin, and I hold my breath, not wanting to wake him, but just wanting to touch him.
He looks almost peaceful like this. Dangerous, still, but peaceful.
I stretch, rolling my shoulders, and immediately feel the deep, satisfying ache between my thighs. The soreness I seem to be living in every morning.
I close my eyes and smile.
Last night.
The memories flood back in fragments.
We come upstairs after dinner, and I sit down on his tufted chair to remove my shoes. He then comes up from behind me and reaches one hand down my dress to caress my nipple as the other slides up my dress, and he rubs my clit and stretches my pussy with his fingers.
Then he tosses me onto the bed.
Where he spends the next few hours claiming every inch of me.
His hands gripping my hips, flipping me every which way.
The sharp sting of his palm against my ass.
My hair fisted in his hand, my head pulled back as he drives into me.
His cock fucking me relentlessly until I can't remember my own name.
I swallow hard, my pulse quickening. My thighs clench involuntarily, and I feel a little wetness there, like some of him is still inside me.
I open my eyes fully now, staring at the ceiling, and the arousal hits me like a wave. Heat pools low in my belly, my skin suddenly too warm beneath the sheets.
Matei stirs beside me.
I don't think. I just move.
I shift closer, pressing my lips to his chest. The skin there is warm, the scent of him filling my lungs.
"Good morning," I say against his skin.
His hand comes to rest on my hip, and he grips it possessively. "Good morning."
I kiss him again, my lips trailing lower, and I feel his body tense.
I keep kissing him as I slide my hand under the covers, my fingers wrapping around his cock. He's already half hard, and I stroke him slowly, feeling him thicken in my grip.
His hips shift, a low rumble vibrating through his chest.
I lick a path down his torso, my tongue tracing the hard lines of his abs, the ridges of muscle flexing beneath my mouth. Then I duck under the covers, the darkness warm and intimate, and take him into my mouth.
His groan is immediate.
I used to hate this. The obligation of it. The feeling of being on my knees for men who didn't deserve the effort. But with Matei, it's different. I crave it, the taste of him, and enjoy having him on my tongue and the way his body responds to me.
It doesn't make me feel submissive or like it's something I have to do. It gives me power. Like I can make this big, dangerous, terrifying man fall apart with just my mouth.
All this I've embraced because he's made me feel safe, so I've started doing this every day. Once a day, at least. Sometimes more.
I learn quickly what he likes. The way his cock throbs when I gag. The sharp intake of breath when I hollow my cheeks and suck hard. So I do it. I push my head down, taking him deeper, making the wet, gagging sounds that drive him wild.
His hand wraps in my hair, and his hips buck upward. I moan around him, the vibration making him curse in Romanian under his breath.
I pull back, licking along his shaft, wet and messy, then move lower, sucking one of his balls into my mouth. He groans, his grip in my hair tightening to the point of pain, and I love it.
I'm sloppy. Drool slips down my chin. Saliva coats my hands. I don't care. This is how he likes it. Raw. Messy. Unrestrained.
I spit on his huge cock and take him back into my mouth, sucking hard, my hand working the base of his shaft. His breathing turns ragged, and I know he's getting close.
"Fuck, Jordan. I'm going to come."
His hips jerk, and I relax my throat and try to take all of him. I can't, not yet, but I'm practicing.
I keep my rhythm, and I feel his body tense up and he growls. Cum, hot and thick, shoots down my throat. I slow slightly as I milk out everything he has, swallowing every drop. My eyes are watering as my throat works to take it all.
When he's done, I pull off him slowly, giving one last suck on his tip before wiping my lips with the back of my hand. I slide back up from under the covers, my hair a mess, my face muscles numb from the work.
He stares at me, his eyes dark and heated.
I lean in and kiss him. He doesn't hesitate and kisses me back, tasting himself on me. When he pulls away, his thumb brushes my bottom lip.
"I could get used to waking up like that every morning."
I smile, feeling extremely happy. "I could get used to waking you up like that."
I collapse beside him, and his arm comes back around me immediately, pulling me against his chest. I rest my head on his shoulder and hug him.
We lie there in silence for a while, the room slowly brightening as the sun rises higher.
Then he speaks.
"Oh, I got plans for us tonight."
I look up at him. "Really? Where?"
He smiles. "Actually, we're going to a ship christening."
I laugh, the sound spilling out before I can stop it. "A what?"
"A ship christening," he repeats, almost laughing.
I prop myself up, looking at him. "Seriously?"
He shrugs and laughs. "What, you don't go to them on the weekends? Jordan, this can't be your first time going to one."
"Uh, yeah. Who the hell christens ships anymore? Is that a thing?"
"Apparently, people with too much money and not enough to do."
I laugh again, and he smirks, clearly pleased with himself.
"Truthfully, I've never been to one either, but it's for a rather large company that could be a key to some things. It should be a good time," he says.
I nod.
"Yeah..." I pause. "Is Adrian going to come?"
"Yes," he says with a confused look. "Why?"
I hesitate, biting my lip. The question has been on my mind for days now, lining my thoughts about being here. "Because I feel like he doesn't like me."
Matei's expression shifts, the humor fading. "Don't worry about Adrian. He's just in the middle of something."
"I'm not worried. I just... I want to understand. So I don't misread him." I pause, choosing my words carefully. "I know last time I asked, you didn't want to tell me. And if you still don't..."
"No." He cuts me off, his hand sliding up to cup my face. "I'll tell you."
He shifts and sits up, resting against the headboard. I sit up too, wrapping the blanket around me.
I wait, suddenly nervous about what he might say.
He exhales slowly, his gaze dropping to the bed. "There was this girl. We grew up with her. She was our neighbor. Adrian and her, they were inseparable."
I don't interrupt. I just nod to show I'm listening.
"They were in love," he says. "We all knew. I mean, they were never not together. He planned to marry her. I went with him to pick out the ring."
My chest tightens, and I feel myself getting emotional.
"Two weeks later," he sighs and rubs his forehead, his face showing something I've never seen before, "she went missing. We searched everywhere. We called in every favor. We did everything we could."
"Oh my God, Matei," the words come out before I can even stop them, my vision getting blurry from the tears forming.
He nods. "After a few days, the police showed up and said they found her car, or what was left of it," he continues, his voice flat.
"A terrible accident. They had to ID her by a piece of jewelry and a tattoo she had on the back of her neck.
It fucking devastated him. All of us. It's been a year and a half, and sometimes I think it's been enough time, but other times I don't think he's even halfway done grieving. "
"I'm sorry." My voice cracks as a few tears run down my cheek. "If I had known, I would have tried more to talk to him, been..."
"No," he says and wipes a tear away from my cheek. "You have nothing to apologize for. But the Adrian you see when he's drinking or whatever, that's not him. Those are his demons working their way out of him. I hope."
I nod slowly, my throat tight.
"He's been better lately," I say softly, regaining my composure. "I've noticed."
"Yes," he says. "He'll get better. You'll see. And so it's not that he doesn't like you. He just doesn't like what we have. It hurts him too much."
I swallow hard. "I get it."
He leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Tonight will be good. Don't worry about anything. What you need to do is contain your excitement for going to something like this."
I laugh. "A ship christening. Best thing to do in LA."
He smirks, and I can't help but smile.
"What do I even wear to something like that?" I ask.
"Something expensive," he says. "You have options, and if you don't like any of them, I'll have more things brought here for you to choose from."
I roll my eyes, but I'm grinning. "Of course you will."
He kisses me again, deeper this time, and I lose myself in it for a moment. His hands slide down my back, gripping my ass, and I squeal.
I look up at him, and he has that look in his eyes. "I know that look. If we keep this up, we're not getting out of bed, you know."
He nods. "I know. Coffee?"
I sigh, rolling off him reluctantly. "Fine."
He watches me as I slip out of bed, his gaze tracking every movement. I grab one of his T-shirts from the chair by the window and pull it on, the fabric swallowing me.
"I'm stealing this," I say, reaching for my yoga pants.
"Take it," he says, his voice low and warm. "Take whatever you want."
I look back at him, and the intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch.
"I mean it, Jordan," he says. "Whatever you want. It's yours."
I don't know what to say to that, so I just smile, soft and genuine, and head toward the bathroom to brush my teeth.
As I turn on the faucet, I hear him call out.
"Wear the emerald dress tonight. The one with the slit."
I laugh, shaking my head. "Okay, bossy."
"Always," he says.
And I can't stop smiling.