pleasure.
"Stay away from me," I revile, my words almost a slur.
This makes his grin widen, passionate chaos twinkling in his eyes. "Scared you'll like me better than my brother, Lennox?"
His words alone are enough to make a man weak, and I'll be that man because the words fucking hurt.
Something in his mind clicks, and his enthusiastic nod is about to make me deck him in the nose. "That's why you two were near fucking." A smirk curves his lips. "He wanted to taste what's left of Maxim?"
"Fuck you," I spit, my voice higher and more aggressive than necessary.
"That's what I want, passerotto." He touches my wet lips slowly, tracing them with measure. "To fuck you until you realize my brother is dead and my cock is right here."
Anger fuels me to push into him. "The more you talk about Maxim, the less likely I am to do anything with you."
"Ha!" he jests. "Your dick is hard as fuck at the prospect of me filling you, Lux."
Narrowing my eyes at him, I allow myself to feel the desire in my bones. My erection presses against my jeans, begging for anything. Friction, touching, a fucking kiss...
"Kiss me," I demand, and he raises his eyebrows and then leans forward. "But know that even Justice kisses better than you."
Cruel words for the cruel boy. He doesn't stop his pursuit, though. If anything, his tenacity is harsher, more deliberate.
He crushes me against the wall, our lips battling a war neither of us truly know the meaning about. "Fuck, Lennox. You taste so bitter it's addicting." His momentary need for words gives me the power to flip us and force him against the wall.
Bare your teeth.
Spill your blood.
Taste them both on my tongue.
"No one ever claimed I was sweet," I tsk. "You should listen to them. I'm no one's bitch, Walker."
He smiles up at me in a happy daze, and I hate how perfect he looks.
Leaning into his throat, I take a bite at his pulse point. He groans, and I lick it. Then my mouth powers against him, desperate to leave a mark so he's unable to forget, just like the one he left me after he sucked me off.
"Want everyone to know you want my cock, passerotto?" Jordan muses, his voice husky and lustful.
Begrudgingly, I pull back to see the smug look on his face. "Maybe I want them to know you want mine so badly you attack it every chance you get."
"Attack it?" he mocks, "I haven't even begun to graze the surface of what I want to do to you."
I wave a snide hand. "If you're so fucking inclined, Walker. Show me."
As if triggering a switch in his head, he forces me to the bed and throws me down onto it.
"Don't act like this wasn't your intention, Lux. Either way, I'm going to punish your ass." He presses into me.
I relax backward, folding my arms behind my head. He huffs and removes his shirt. I'm caught completely off guard, hissing in a breath at the sight of him. Usually, you can only see the tattoos across Jordan's arms. Since coming back, I haven't seen him shirtless once. Now, with his bare chest, tattoos splayed across, and that fucking trimmed waist, I'm ogling.
"If I knew being shirtless was all it'd take for you to have my dick, I'd have walked around naked," he jokes, but I see the pride in his eyes. He works for his body, as do I. It's one of those things that boosts our egos to be stared at with awe.
"Shut up." The words are reactionary.
The amusement doesn't leave his eyes. He leans down, indenting the bed with his weight. His knees are on either side of me, holding me hostage in a way that makes me crave more. I can't help my hands going to his hips, wanting to feel the muscles and veins beneath my fingertips, but I tread lightly, worrying about how fast this is moving, how much I want it, and how Colt will see me if she knew I planned on fucking another guy or, more so, letting him fuck me.
"Why do you look worried, Lux?"
The question isn't callous or demeaning. He caught the little bit of nerves from me. I haven't had sex—like this—since Maxim. No one, and I mean, no one, has ever touched me intimately like this.
"I-I, uh," I stumble over what I need to say, but the only thing that comes out sounds bad even coming from me. "Are you