JORDAN

THIRTY TWO; TUNA

"What?"

"A silk pillowcase."

"Not what I was expecting, but okay."

I cuddled into him, arms draped leisurely over his torso, my hand feeling the ever-increasing beat of his heart.

"If I'm going to be sleeping in your bed I'm going to need a silk pillowcase."

"Noted."

I think he was intentionally trying to ignore me. My full naked body was pressed against his side and yet he lay perfectly still, counting the ceiling tiles.

I gripped his chin and forced him to look at me. His eyes had darkened with desire, his lips parted like he wanted to kiss me. I bet he wanted to kiss my entire body. I bet he wanted to make me feel fucking worshiped. It was just annoying that he was holding himself back.

Before him, I never knew how pleasurable it could be. Every encounter was awkward and unsatisfying. They couldn't make me cum. I couldn't make me cum. And still, I felt all of this frustration, wound tight with tension and horniness.

Now that I've had a taste, I feel as though that's been put under a microscope, sexual unfulfillment growing in intensity.

I just wish it wasn't someone as forbidden as Jordan Peers.

"I shouldn't." He whispered, fighting against nature and turning back to look at the damn ceiling tiles.

Again, I titled his chin making him look at me. This time I didn't hesitate, I closed the gap between us and aligned our lips.

There were no awkward pauses, no second thoughts, no worries that we were doing something wrong — only me and him connecting.

I closed my eyes, giving it more meaning, more magic. The kiss was sentimental, comfortable with a real sense of belonging and safety.

Like the fluttering of a bumble bees wings, soft and delicate until one of us decides it's time to sting. This kiss was fleeting, slipping away before I'd even had enough honey to keep me sweet.

It was the murmuring of a cool breeze on a hot summers day, the breeze while it lasts is nice but then the heat boils your skin and leaves you sore.

It was a red, blazing camp fire, the gentle crackle of wood sought to keep you warm while you sleep under the stars, except I was a bug burning alive because I had made that firewood my safe place, my home.

I knew this.
I knew all of this.

And yet I was wrongfully falling fast.

I was kissing him, swept up by him, unsure where I ended and he began. Like a temptress, I lured him to me with my entrancing eyes, captivating smile, my laugh, my hair, my assertiveness, my opinions, my dominating kiss.

My small hands pulled at his waistband, exposing him beneath the covers and boy was he solid and raring to go. When I grasped his length and jerked his shaft in my hands he moaned into my mouth, feeling the whole of his core tighten.

"See, you want me." At the small break apart of my words, our lungs found air, only for a moment though, then I was right back to kissing him.

I was getting hard to resist, his body naturally picking up the rhythm I was playing out with my hand. He was getting carried away, loosing himself and I was happily tugging him off while he quivered at my touch. Our tongues twisted and entwined to the unison beat.

I was getting my way, things were heating up between us, this was happening.

"T–tuna." He spoke hoarse against my plump lips.