The Breakup

by Erin McCarthy

  When I finally stopped shuddering, Christian paused, then moved up the length of me. He undid first one wrist, then the other, rubbing them gently. He brushed my hair back. “You okay?”

  I nodded, not finding any words. I was stunned that I had had an orgasm. Like that. So easily.

  Maybe there was hope for me yet.

  “You’re amazing,” he murmured, shifting over me, kissing my stomach, my ribs, my nipples, as he ascended. “You broke beautifully for me, princess. I’m so fucking hard for you right now.”

  He wasn’t kidding. I could feel his erection pressing against me. I tried to glance down to see it, but his body was crowding mine. “What now?” I asked, which was possibly the stupidest question I have ever asked.

  “Now I make you come again.”

  As he pulled down an unopened box of condoms from the shelf of sin on the caboose wall, I marveled at what was happening.

  And when he nudged my thighs open with a very hard, very large cock, I didn’t feel nervous. I wanted him. I gripped his muscular biceps and gasped in pleasure when he sank inside my wet, welcoming body.

  I felt no regret for leaving Bradley at the altar. No guilt. No fear or worry or sadness.

  I just felt like getting fucked. Not pleasant, vanilla sex. Not over-the-top porn stuff. But fucked. And Christian was doing just that.

  Chapter 8

  Bella was perfection. She was all lean legs and big tits and soft cries of pleasure. And she had come under my tongue like she had never been eaten out before, or at least not well. She had looked stunned, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy, and there is nothing more satisfying than knowing you made a woman speechless. I could have gone down on her all damn day, but I thought she would protest.

  Since my brother had so graciously stocked this place with enough condoms to fuck the entire state of Maine, I figured there was no reason not to take Bella. She needed to know that sex could be something more than just mildly enjoyable. She needed to know that she could scream and beg for it. I had a lot of plans for her for the next twenty-four hours running through my head, but the second I sank inside her tight, sweet pussy they all fled.

  There was nothing but her.

  Her tight heat gripping me.

  Her nails digging into me.

  Her mouth dropping open in shock and pleasure.

  Her sweet gasps, emerging each time I thrust deep inside her.

  Damn, so fucking good.

  Sex shouldn’t be that different than with any other girl I’d been with. But it was. There was something about her vulnerability that had me by the nuts and wouldn’t let go. She was trusting me to do right by her.

  When was the last time anyone had put their full trust in me?

  Not lately, that was for damn sure. Maybe not since my girlfriend straight out of high school.

  I wanted to make this right for Bella.

  Someday when she looked back on this day, the day she had ditched her shitty cheating piece-of-shit fiancé, I wanted her to remember that at least the sex was good. I wanted her to see it as a turning point when she stopped letting men dictate how she felt about herself.

  Which, to be honest, was pretty fucking deep for me when I was seven inches into her pussy. It was more than a little scary.

  So I did the only thing I could—I got rough.

  Yanking her hip up higher so I could get as deep as possible, I looked down at her. “You like that? You like it deep?”

  Bella’s eyes were wide and she nodded, like she still couldn’t speak. There was nothing sexier than having her beneath me and hearing that sharp exhalation of air from her lungs every time I plowed into her. I ran my fingers through her thick hair, wrapping the strands around and around, so I had a tight grip on her.

  She whimpered. Not from fear or pain but from pleasure. She looked exactly like I wanted her to. Confused. Swept away. Aroused beyond rational thought.

  Bella didn’t need a selfish, bored lover. Bella didn’t need some guy who took advantage of her sweet, generous nature and never gave back.

  She needed me. Someone to take charge and show her what she wanted. What she liked.

  When I found myself too close to the edge, I rolled onto my back, taking Bella with me. Her hair spilled all over my chest but my grip kept it from covering her face. I wanted to see her beautiful face, her wide eyes.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, breasts splayed across me.

  “Letting you ride me.” But I felt like I knew her well enough to know she wasn’t going to sit straight up and grind herself on my cock. So I took her hip and thrust into her, encouraging her to meet me halfway.

  “Oh!” she said. “This actually works.” She sounded surprised. “It’s touching my…

  “Your clit, baby? Is your clit rubbing on me?” I let go of her hair even though it might spill forward because I wanted to grab both of her hips and create a really smooth rhythm for her.

  She nodded. “And my nipples. Oh geez, Christian.” She was panting.

  There was something so sweet and powerful about her stunned arousal. I felt like I was doing important work. The teacher and his student. She had just solved the equation of sex for the first time.

  I was so turned on, gritting my teeth, that I couldn’t resist a light smack on the high curve of her sweet ass. She jerked.

  “What was that for?”

  “For being so sexy.”

  “I need to be punished for that?” Bella bit her lip as she continued to move with me. “Okay. Whatever you think is best.”

  Holy fuck.

  What could be sexier than that?

  Nothing.

  But I wasn’t going to push my luck. This was her moment. I held her tightly, helped her own her rhythm. Her eyes drifted closed. It felt like she was genuinely just in the moment, exploring her pleasure points. Sweet, soft moans escaped her generous lips and she experimented with moving her tits so her nipples brushed against my chest.

  Then suddenly her eyes flew open and she came silently, her expression stunned. I could feel her pussy milk my cock and nothing had ever felt so good. “That’s it,” I told her. “You got it, princess. Come for me.”

  “Oh my God,” she breathed, grinding herself down onto me in frantic, shaky movements, like she wanted to hold on to it, extend it indefinitely. Like it might escape her.

  It was amazing to watch.

  When she finally collapsed on me, she gave a soft laugh. “Wow.”

  I let her gather her breath. Ten seconds. Then I rolled her onto her back again. I needed to go deep. Bella was a limp tangle of legs and blond hair. She let me maneuver her where I wanted her. I took her to the edge of the mattress. It was a normal height, off the floor on a frame, so I had a perfect angle. She was smiling a little, like she was proud of herself for coming. She looked beautiful and delicious. I grabbed her ankles with my hand and lifted them high up on my chest, to the right so her feet didn’t knock me in the face.

  Her smile slipped. “What are you doing?”

  But I was already easing into her. “What do you think?” I thrust hard and deep into her welcoming heat. I wasn’t sure why I’d chosen this position, but I just wanted to drive as deep as I could, and I instinctively knew she wasn’t going to want to turn around and get on all fours. Not her style. Not yet anyway.

  “I don’t know,” she said without irony.

  “I’m driving my cock into you,” I said, my throat closing up as I sank into her again and again. “Take a look.”

  She glanced down at our bodies joining and she sucked in a breath. Her tits were bouncing from the effort and from my rhythm. It was a perfect view. Her cheeks turned pink right before my eyes. But she didn’t look away.

  Instead, she licked her bottom lip.

  Just drew the tip of that tongue across the juicy plum
pness of her lip, still covered in her wedding lipstick. Her false eyelashes fluttered. “Oh my,” she whispered. “That’s kind of hot, isn’t it?”

  I nodded. “Fuck yeah.”

  She dropped her head back, her eyes drifting closed as she gave the world’s most amazing moan. It was one of shock in her own pleasure. I felt like I had won a gold medal, the Boston Marathon, and the lottery all at once. Like, dude, I did that.

  It was all I needed to put me over the edge.

  I gripped her ankles harder and picked up my speed, watching her face. Loving the way she had so much wonderment in her expression. Her legs were so long, so bronze, her stomach flat, tits bouncing from my pounding.

  All of this was better than I could have expected. It was satisfying on a whole different level.

  So I exploded inside her, gritting my teeth, riding out the wave in silence.

  Bella murmured, “Christian.”

  It nearly destroyed me. It was just so damn hot. That damn tug again. There it was: Warning—Danger Ahead.

  Her hand fluttered up to her hair as I tried to breathe, relaxing my grip on her skin. She pushed her hair off her face and I saw that huge-ass diamond ring on her finger. There were so many diamonds it had to cost more than my mother’s house. The light was playing off it and it pissed me off. I wasn’t even sure why.

  Maybe because I had always had the sense that marriage and a family wouldn’t be in my future. And that this asshole, born to privilege, had had it and threw it away like it didn’t matter at all. If I had to guess, Bradley Alexander hadn’t thought Bella would leave him.

  I stepped back, pulling out of her. Gently, I lowered her legs onto the bed and turned so I could peel the condom off. I also didn’t want her to see my anger. I felt angry seeing that ring.

  Once I had composed myself and tossed the condom into the garbage can (with a fucking lid; my brother was on that shit), I turned back to Bella. She was just lying there, breathing hard, her cheeks pink. Her legs were exactly where I had dropped them.

  “Told you I could make you come,” I said with more arrogance than I intended.

  Her throat moved visibly when she swallowed. “I stand corrected.”

  “Do you want that glass of wine now?”

  She nodded.

  I reached down, and unable to resist, tapped her monstrous engagement ring. “So now you know there is a lot of fun to be had between vanilla sex and ass play. A whole lot of fun.”

  * * *

  —

  Christian turned and I lay there, my dress bunched around my waist, stunned. He had a strong back, the muscles rippling as he reached up over his head in a stretch, like he needed to loosen up. I had definitely loosened up. More than I could have thought possible.

  His tongue…

  His cock…

  I pictured it driving into me again and felt a hot flush rush over my entire body. I had never looked at a cock entering me before, at least not at that particular angle, where it really was like being drilled. It seemed so improbable and so unbelievably sexy.

  I thought about his words. I didn’t like the implication that I was not into sex.

  “I told you I like sex,” I said. “That’s not the issue.” I don’t know why I didn’t just give him the credit he deserved. Maybe because he was arrogant enough already.

  Christian glanced at me over his shoulder as he pulled out a bottle of wine from the chiller. “There’s only one issue and it’s related to that ring on your finger. Otherwise, I don’t see any issues at all.”

  He meant that Bradley hadn’t gotten me off, and in a way, he was right. It wasn’t that I never had an orgasm with Bradley, but it took significant effort on his part and major concentration on mine. But I didn’t want to talk about Bradley. Ever again. I wanted to just revel in the newfound knowledge that I could orgasm with relative ease when I relaxed and let go. That having Christian go down on me could be sexy, not awkward.

  If he could, some other man in the future could too, right?

  Someday I would think about what had been different with Christian. Why I had been so turned on. But later. I didn’t want to think right now and ruin the mood.

  Readjusting my dress so it covered my top and bottom parts, I rolled onto my side and propped my head up with my palm. “I don’t want to talk about issues.”

  He popped the cork. “Good. Because I don’t even want to talk.”

  Me either. Not about Bradley. Or issues. And not about the Tiffany ring that cost more than some people’s brand-new cars. Because it clearly bothered Christian I pulled it off my finger and rolled it between my flesh of my thumb and index finger, surprised at how little I felt removing it. I had been wearing that ring for over a year, its weight a part of me. I loved the sparkle when I reached for things, and the compliments from the nail techs when I got a manicure. I loved the message it sent to everyone—she is loved. She is worthy of a diamond.

  So much show and bullshit. Why do we ascribe so much value to a piece of jewelry? A man’s love isn’t measured by the karats he can buy. So if I was honest with myself, why wouldn’t I have been content with an inexpensive ring, more sentimental than valuable?

  Because I needed the proof.

  That thought made me relinquish the ring without hesitation.

  I had left my purse in the cabin, so I stretched my arm and set the ring up on the shelf next to a dildo. Diamonds and a fake dick. The thought made me feel a little ridiculous. I rolled onto my back and laughed softly. What a bizarre juxtaposition.

  This was as far from how today was supposed to go as you could possibly get.

  And yet…this version was better than standing at the altar vowing to love and cherish Bradley until death do us part. Because that was no longer my truth. It would have been a total lie. I didn’t want any more lies. I wanted the truth, no matter how unpleasant or plebeian.

  Right at this moment my truth was I had been able to orgasm. It felt absolutely freeing. I was downright giddy.

  I sat up when Christian handed me a glass of wine. I sipped it delicately. “So your brother is quite the ladies’ man. Actually, I guess all of you Jordan brothers are.”

  He sat down next to me, still naked. It didn’t seem to make him uncomfortable. Though why would it? He looked like the perfect male specimen naked. He drank half the glass in one swallow. “I’m thirsty. And I am not going to discuss any of my brothers with you. They can fuck off.”

  “I wasn’t planning to trade you out. I am just curious.”

  “Don’t even joke about that.” He took the glass of wine back from me and set it on the shelf. “Seriously.”

  Christian gave me a deep kiss that made my toes curl. I actually shivered.

  Then I gasped when he took the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head.

  “Round two,” he murmured, burying his lips in my neck.

  “What?” I was scandalized. And a touch nervous, but willing to try. “Maybe we shouldn’t, you know, ruin a good thing?” I posed it like a question, but I was convinced it would in fact ruin it, but then again, what the actual hell did I know?

  Clearly nothing.

  “No, silly.”

  I had half the sense he was making fun of me because silly was my word, not his. But I wasn’t going to argue about it right now because he was teasing his thumb across my nipple and it actually felt good. Surprisingly good. I would have thought my nipples would have closed up shop for the night.

  Wrong. I was totally wrong.

  This time Christian kissed me steadily, easily, deeply. He stroked with his tongue and his fingers simultaneously. He gave me the sense that he had nothing better to do. That he could keep this going indefinitely. I felt oddly cherished. Ironic that the man who was essentially a stranger could make me feel that way. A stranger who had been inside me.

 
; God, I couldn’t believe my reality.

  Yet…it wasn’t a bad reality if I just focused on the here and now.

  For the very first time in my life I was actually doing that.

  I trusted Christian because he hadn’t been wrong yet. I couldn’t argue with his quick results. So I just kissed him back with all the fervor and relief and passion I felt. I always felt light-headed around him. I blamed it on the sugar rush, the wine, the trauma of fleeing the church.

  But maybe it was just him. Him and me.

  He broke off our kiss and bent over and took my nipple into his mouth. I gasped. I felt the tug of that all the way deep down into my womb.

  “Lift your ass,” he urged.

  I had rearranged my panties back into place, and when I obeyed him he slid them down over my thighs. He jerked them off my feet and threw them somewhere in the direction of the bottom of the bed. He unhooked my bra while I sat there passively and let him. I felt vulnerable without my dress shielding my waist and hips. It made no sense, but it was true. I felt shy. But Christian went right back to kissing me and I forgot to be embarrassed by what we were doing.

  His hands were big and rough and they were everywhere. He massaged my nipples. He slipped inside my damp heat. He teased over my hips, my waist, my cheek. It felt like he was burning a path everywhere he touched, setting my skin on fire. I was relaxed and aroused.

  “Lie down.” He nudged my hip.

  I fell back onto the bed without question, peeling a stray hair off my swollen lip.

  “No, on your stomach.”

  “On my stomach?” I asked, dubiously. “I don’t think…”

  Christian shifted over me, caressing a thumb over my lip. “Bella.” That thumb moved down and pressed against my clit, and slid inside me.