Jordan Love Bbw Mga Nobela at Kwento

Jas' POV I zip my lips, trying to let Jenny know that we need this whole session to be all BDSM all submission from her. Jordan has a lot of shit to work out of his system, and I do love watching him work it out of his system. Jenny is the perfect workout for our anger, since she loves getting it, and we love giving it.

Love, Jordan Cashmere. Your Beautiful Mishap.

“Making love to all of you in a clearing–especially after we’ve just completed a hunt or sparring…you blindfolding me and me having to guess whose touch it is I’m receiving...and you claiming my ass." He growls lustily, and rolls me beneath him, driving into me so hard I see the stars and the moon. I’m as hot as the hottest star, and it doesn’t take much for me to explode in a burst of heat and light while Jordan throws back his head on a howl of fulfillment and pours his own white-hot seed inside me. When my heartbeat returns to normal, Wiley lies on top of me, spreading my hair out around me. “Moonbeams,” he says and caresses my face with a delicate foamflower.

So I stepped out of the opening and looked at the two people who were also stepping towards me, Bellva's eyes widened, Jordan opened his mouth and as if he had caught himself, he stepped towards me with quick steps and hugged me. "Jordan, no." Bellva gasped in surprise, a voice mixed with whispers and disbelief. Her eyes widen. Surprise also followed me suddenly when I saw what he was doing. "Jordan." “I love you. I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry."

"I mean, sir, Miss Bethany want to speak to you." "The door is opened." Jordan deep voice came from inside. Sara opened the door and moved away while Bethany went in. Her gaze fell on Jordan and her mouth went dried immediately. She was frozen to her spot as she stared at the half naked man standing before her. He was only wearing his black pant and nothing else on his upper body. Jordan slowly turned and faced her. Seeing how lost she was, staring at him, he smirked and asked in a low, deep voice that sent a wave of shock running through her bone, "You like what you see?"

Instead, here I am, stuck on someone who can barely tell me what I mean to him. Jordan isn’t capable of love, at least not the way I want him to love me. He cares, I know that much, but he won’t ever give me what I really need. Jordan is still in love with his late wife. Dad said he promised never to love or marry again and he’s kept that promise for the past twenty years. Brandon is still looking at me as if he knows there’s more to what I’m telling him. He’s taking his time to study me, his eyes narrowing with that knowing look.

“She’s been distant lately, lips bruised, constantly showering, it’s got to be someone new.” “Good for her,” Jordan murmured more to himself and looked down at his now naked body amused. “You’re quick. Now that’s sorted, I want to ride you.” The groan of want he got rippled down his spine when he knelt up shoving him down into the bed and straddling his thighs. His lips found their surface when he trailed them over his stubble, soft against his lips and tickling in the best way. Derrick’s hands found their own purchase on his hips when he exposed his throat to him.

His lips are starting to swell a little and I feel the urge to cross the distance between us and kiss him once again. Sighing, I tear my gaze away from him. I know what I have to do. It will happen on its own—I only need to want it. To let myself be transformed. To let the Goddess Luna bless me and to not hesitate. “Hey,” I hear Jordan say. “You may want to take your clothes off before you begin. Or you’ll end up with only bits and pieces of it.” His face has a blush to it and a smile creeps up to my face.

“Touch me. Please.” Jordan hesitated, blinking to her request. What has he gotten himself into? What should he do? He really doesn't want to hurt her and definitely doesn't want to hurt the love of his life. “Please." She desperately pleaded. “Touch me." Jordan did. He kissed her neck, cupped her breasts through the lace, thumbed her nipples until she gasped and arched. His fingers slipped between her legs—she was wet, warm, trembling. He stroked her slow, two fingers inside while his thumb circled her clit.

I caress it, stroke it passionately. “I want you, Keila. I have fallen for you, Keila. I want you all for myself!” Jordan rips my blouse impatiently, the buttons flying, exposing my breasts. And at the same time, I yank Jordan's sweatpants down until I can see everything I had been wanting to see. “I love you, mister Crown!” “I love you, Keila Taylor.”