by Jorja Tabu
“Is that all sex is to you?” He growled back at her now, and although she knew she should probably be frightened, she wasn’t. Her instincts told her he was nothing like Nathan. Nothing like Randall, even. But he was hurt, and angry. “Something you say means connecting with another person, but is really all about yourself?”
“Sometimes, that’s the best you get in life,” Lena said flippantly, hardening her jaw. “Sometimes feeling a little less lonely is all that keeps a person going. And I dare you to judge me for that, because you’ll be judging all of humanity. You’re not that self-righteous.”
He jerked back in surprise before recovering. “You don’t know me very well, Lena. That’s a pretty arrogant thing to say.”
His words stung, probably more than they meant to. “You don’t know me very well either, Jordan, but I am older than you, in case you forgot. There’s a lot about the world I know that you don’t.”
“I know that you called that guy to come over here and fuck you,” Jordan said with that same distant storm in his voice. “I know that you think fucking is what makes you feel better, and I also know it doesn’t.”
It was her turn to be surprised. “Bullshit. How do you know that?”
“Because I didn’t fuck you,” he said, and the raw edge of sadness moved to the surface. “Because I wouldn’t even know how to start treating you that way, and I made you happy.”
“Sex isn’t always about being happy, Jordan,” Lena said, feeling her tears return.
“I can tell,” he said gruffly, moving closer to her. “According to you, it’s about...Ownership, and some kind of...hunger. Which it won’t fix. That kind of sex isn’t going to make it better, Lena.”
“You don’t know that!” Lena put her hands on his chest, looking into his face with a horrible pain in her heart. “You’re too young to know what sex is about---you’re too young to know what sex is going to make better, or worse--for me, and for everybody. For yourself.”
“You’re wrong,” he said, and the pain in his tone was met with an equal measure of heat; being so close to one another was dangerous. Lena felt the draw towards his body as soon as she recognized the undercurrent of desire in his speech, and it was like lightening, spreading across her chest to her ribs and then below.
“I’ll prove it,” she said suddenly, and without thinking she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him roughly down to meet her lips. He resisted for only a second before she felt his powerful arms encircle her as his lips crushed hers. She sucked his tongue, peeling his mouth open indiscriminately, and twisted her hands in his hair. In a second, her legs were wrapped around his waist, her eager pussy mashed against the growing cock hidden in his pants. His hands tore over her body, searching, until the settled on roughly squeezing her ass as heat seeped from her center into his. His muscular frame stayed upright as he moved towards the bed and landed hard, his cock pressed against Lena as he leaned over her. “See?” She said. “Is this happy?” She felt almost playful, teasing, but the hunger he mentioned gnawed at her in a way that said this wasn’t the kind of man who would agree.
He surprised her. “It was,” he said gruffly, “but you just reminded me that you’re teaching me how to fuck.” He reared back and pulled his shirt over his head in one smooth movement before looking down where she laid on the bed with a decisive tightness in his jaw. “I’m still not doing it right--” With hooded eyes, he unlatched her legs from his middle and immediately spun her on to her belly. Lena was so shocked she didn’t move; Jordan was so strong he could put her in any position he liked with no struggle. “Is this it?” His voice was dark with lust and hurt, and she suddenly felt his warm fingertips on her shoulders as they plucked at the neckline of her shirt--and then ripped it straight down the middle.
“Jordan!” She began to turn around to look at him, her eyes wide, but he held her fast with one hand; his lips pressed into her shoulder, and a shudder ran over her body.
“That’s still not it,” he whispered in her ear. “What am I forgetting?” His broad, muscular chest leaned into her back as he nibbled her throat, and with his hands free, he reached down to her jeans. “That’s right,” he said suddenly, pulling himself off of her as he wretched them apart at the seams; the thong shredded, her pants split wide open, her whole ass bare to him.
“Oh my God, Jordan,” Lena cried out again, trying to twist towards him, but he easily kept her on the bed as he yanked the pants completely off. She felt his hands wrap around her waist and pull her up at the same time the tip of his cock sank into her pussy. “Jordan--” The heated contact between their bodies made the desire in her overwhelming, and she arched her back to let him in.
“That’s right,” he said softly, guiding himself into her pussy only an inch or so. “So this is fucking, Lena? And you don’t love me, just so we’re clear.” He sank into her another inch.
“Jordan, what are you trying to prove--” She could barely keep herself from writhing beneath him.
“That sex matters, Lena.” The storm in his voice reared up, revealing how deeply she’d hurt him. “That what makes us feel better, what helps, isn’t fucking--it’s love.” He thrust deeply into her, and she cried out. “But I’m going to fuck you now, Lena, and you’re going to tell me how different it feels from when we made love.” He pulled her body up and plunged into it again, taking her breath away.
His hands stayed on her hips, and Lena put her weight on her arms as he raised her again for maximum penetration. His balls slapped into her clit, and she felt the orgasm happening before she even knew it was arriving. As her pussy squeezed his cock, he picked up speed. “Is this how you like it, Lena?” He panted behind her, his cock slamming into her rhythmically as she came, over and over. “Is this how you like to be fucked?” Lena moaned, desperate with pleasure, as she rode the waves his cock pushed through her. The momentum of his thrusts slowly moved them across the bed, towards the headboard, and she reached out and flattened her palms against it to push back against him.
“This is how I like it,” she gasped. He grunted as he slammed into her again, feeling her orgasms slow and the heat from her body rising above her like a mist. His speed lowered, and she looked over her shoulder at him, tears in her eyes.
“This is how I like it,” he said softly, and leaned down to kiss her. The tenderness in his touch was abrupt and almost unsettling. “This is how you taught me to do it, Lena,” he whispered, and she felt his hands creep beneath her and pull her completely upright, so that she was sitting backwards in his lap. His hands gingerly plucked at her nipples, his lips slid over her collarbone. She was entirely full with his cock, which throbbed deep in her pussy.
“Jordan,” she whispered, and instantly, tears fell from her eyes. The overwhelming sweetness of his touch was so different from the hardness before, she knew he’d made his point. She shivered, her vulnerability revealed to her.
“I love you, Lena,” he whispered, and slowly began to move inside of her. “I’ll fuck you if you want, but I love you. It’s you that makes me less lonely. It’s just you.” His cock built another round of lightening inside of her that quickly reached orgasm, her body blending so completely with his that she couldn’t tell who came first. He clutched her tightly to his hot, muscled frame, and they stayed, shivering, feeling the completeness and newness of the other.
“I love you too, Jordan,” she said softly, and then finally twisted around to kiss him. “I love you too.”
Day Seven Hundred and Thirty Four
“Jordan, do you mind grabbing another jar of mustard? This one’s almost empty.” Lena called to him over her shoulder as she set the tray of food down on the long table, then angled it to grab the best shade. “Oh--and some napkins, please!” He came out of the garden house grinning, all the items in hand; she took a minute to watch him as he moved towards her, his beauty temporarily overwhelming her for the millionth time.
It was warm outside, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. The deep mahogany of
his skin was on full display, each perfect muscle in action before her eyes, and she chose to bask in it. He saw her staring and grinned. “I never walked around without a shirt on before us,” he said, the remnant of his shyness peeking through the confident smile. “And I grew up on Kaua'i.”
“And I find that a terrible waste,” Lena said, reaching out to draw him down next to her. “Do you know how many girls you left broken hearted with your careless refusal to bare all? The world may never know.”
“I just had to find the right place and time,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss her. As their lips met, the fountain turned on.
“I still can’t believe you fixed that thing,” Lena said, staring at it. The bronze woman looked back at her, a satisfied calm on her frozen face as water ran over her in delicate rivulets. “Thank you, Jordan.”
“I owed it,” he said, close to her ear. “It gave me you, in a way.”
“Then I owe it, too,” she said quietly. “Where would I be without you?”
“Probably not here,” he said, and smiled. “Probably not living in your own garden house, at any rate, but you would still be doing that reading tonight, that’s for sure.”
“But what would I have to write about, without you?” She cupped his chin in her hands as she gazed into his eyes, memorizing the color that had saved her life.
“You probably wouldn’t know nearly as much about the properties of tears,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “Or saliva, oceans...”
“Or other things,” she said with a wicked grin. He grinned right back, and she took both his hands in hers. “That would definitely change the tone of my work, I admit. ‘Wetter’ would not be the same book of poetry without you, my love.”
“My life wouldn’t be the same without you, my love,” he whispered, and the two of them continued to enjoy the sparkling dance of light cast by the fountain on their lover’s face for a small, gorgeous eternity.