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Chloe and Jorge have no shortage of chemistry, but they also tend to be a bit stubborn. The best part of butting heads? The make-up sex….
I spin to try to escape the room, but Jorge pulls another cat trick and I barrel into his chest at the doorway. How the hell does he move that fast? Not fair.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He voice is like iron, as is the grip he once again has on my arm.
“Anywhere away from you.” I glare into his emerald eyes, which flash with anger and maybe a bit of passion. Damn him.
I remember the first time I saw those eyes. They were flashing then, too. I’ve never been so taken with someone’s eyes before. My anger softens, but not enough to stop me from struggling to get past him.
I can tell he reads this softening in my eyes. His own eyes lose some of their flint, and I sense sadness, longing, and love all mixed in with the anger of his emotions. My ire relents a little more, but the flames don’t die out as I consider whether or not I should break out the self-defense moves to flee this situation. I swear he knows what I’m thinking even though I’m certainly not projecting.
His gaze dips to my lips, which are pressed into a thin line of anger. “Fuck this.” And then he is kissing me. Hard.
I try to pull away, but one of his hands has come up behind my head, pulling me tight to him. He runs his tongue along my lower lip. I groan, not sure if I still want to get away or open up to tangle my own tongue with his.
He slides his other hand down my arm, cupping my butt and pulling me tight to his firm body. My traitorous hips rock into him of their own accord, his hard cock pressing into me in a delicious way. I briefly consider kicking him where it counts in a last-ditch effort to flee, but my mutinous mouth has decided to open, and the electricity of his tongue on mine goes right to my core, weakening my knees.
He lifts me up, our lips still locked, and my legs grow a mind of their own and wrap around his torso. He stumbles us toward the bedroom, never breaking the kiss. My hands take pleasure in further messing up his beautiful mane of hair.
When we reach the bed, he tosses me down, all the gentleness of our previous lovemaking gone. And that’s just fine with me. A giant claw extends from one of his fingers and he cuts my tee and bra right up the middle. His claw retracts and he pounces on my breasts, furiously kneading one while nipping and sucking the other. I arch into him, moaning.
My mind works well enough to have a moment of fear that he’s going to rip off my jeans. “These are my favorite jeans. Don’t shred them.”
The rumble of his laughter carries into the breast he’s suckling. He rises up enough to reach down and undo my jeans. “I guess I’ll just take my time getting them off then.” His voice is husky as his hand snakes inside and pushes down my jeans and underwear. He kisses the sensitive skin of my hip and continues to trail wet kisses down my legs as he slowly slides my pants off.
He drops them on the ground, looking down at me with such heat in his eyes that I can’t even remember why I was so mad at him. I’ll worry about that later, I decide as he licks up my leg, spreading them wider as he nears my core. “I think my patience has ended.” He swirls a finger around my entrance and then slides two fingers in roughly. I buck and just about orgasm right then and there, but his pause brings me back down.
He begins a slow rhythm that rapidly builds. He flicks his tongue over my clit, and I begin to writhe, my hands going wild in his hair. He latches on and I’m exploding, screaming out my ecstasy. I barely come down from the high before he kicks into high gear again, sending me over the edge. I lose track of what I’m doing, where I am. It’s a good thing we’re in the country so no one can hear me scream and swear.
I fall back to the bed, lazy and slack, but Jorge isn’t done with me. He effortlessly flips me over, pulling my hips up and taking me from behind. I balance my weight on my elbows. My voice is rough from screaming, but I feel another orgasm building as he pounds into me, his hands holding my hips firmly in place. Sweat trickles down my back toward my neck as we both move toward release.
And then he is roaring, his jaguar in control of his vocal cords. His cock pulses in me as my inner muscles spasm. My scream blends into the echo of his roar. He holds me in place for a few seconds as our twinging muscles relax, then we collapse to the bed, both of us breathless.
“Now that is what I call being.” His voice is lazy and cocky.
I want to punch him for his smartass remark, but I’m too sated to move. “Glad you enjoyed your own object lesson so much.”
“I think I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed it.” He wraps me in his arms and pulls me close.
Snuggling into his muscled body, I don’t argue. For once. I’m too damned tired and drunk on dopamine to make the effort.
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