Chapter 13: Thirteen

"Does this mean you forgive me?" He whispered against my lips, his eyes lidded and drunk on me.

"No." I replied honestly, pressing my mouth to his again. He groaned, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth and biting it. Then, he released it, breaking the kiss to speak again.

"How do I fix it?"

"You still haven't apologized for shouting at me." He smiled against my lips.

"You yelled at me, too." He kissed me again, before adding, "But I'm sorry."

"Promise not to do it again." I demanded with another kiss.

"Will you promise not to drive me crazy with that pissy attitude?" He growled back. I gasped, but he used it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue diving into my mouth as his lips urgently crashed against mine. He tasted like mint and Joel, and I briefly wondered if his gum could give me the same effect after he'd chewed it. That might explain why kissing him was so addicting.

Hell, what was I thinking? One look at him would tell me why I couldn't get enough. He was fire, but instead of burning me, he was melting me. And I loved it. No, I needed it. I had been frigid for far too long.

My hands sought the top button of his shirt. Damn, I wished he'd worn a t-shirt. It would be much easier to remove.

He broke away to take over, undoing the buttons at a swift pace as he smirked at me.

"So now, does this mean that you forgive me?" God, he was a cocky little bastard.

"No." I huffed, lifting my tank top over my head as he pushed his shirt off. He laughed.

"Well, now I just feel used." He pouted, and I swear it was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen.

"Yea, because of the two of us, that's more likely." I scoffed, but this made him stop. Shit, why did I open my mouth? I met his eyes anxiously, but he didn't look mad. More concerned.

"Why do you keep saying that?" Seriously? Could he not see how little we fit together?

I gestured to his sexy, downright delicious inked body.

"Look at you. You're so incredibly out of my league." He grabbed hold of my extended hand, his brows furrowing.

"No. I'm not."

"You are. Do you not realize how attractive you are? The girls in class won't stop trying to bed you." My jealousy was resurfacing, making it harder to focus. He entwined our fingers, using his other hand to lift my gaze to him.

"I don't think you realize just how beautiful you are. Men do the same with you." I was full-on laughing now.

"You're joking. That's not remotely true." But his eyes darkened.

"It is. You had a Frat boy pawing at you the second I turned my back." I flinched at the mention of June. "Not to mention Isaac."

"June is a friend, and Isaac chases anything with a pussy. You made that much clear." He was already shaking his head before I got the words out.

"No. He's a playboy, but he's choosy. He wouldn't sleep with your friends. He only wanted you." What?

My mouth fell open at the new development. But Danny and Isabelle are gorgeous!

"God, does he just prey on awkward introverts who don't know better?" The thought horrified me, and to my surprise, Joel laughed.

"No, Jennifer. He thought you were sexy. Because you are." He licked his lips as his eyes trailed me. "You're fucking delicious." He added beneath his breath, kindling the fire in my core.

His hands slid down to where my bare sides met my shorts, his fingers teasingly running beneath the waistband. I shivered in delight, ignoring the insecurity I felt as he trailed over the small transperant lines that formed with my too-thick hips. He called me delicious. He called me sexy and beautiful.

I no longer cared if I believed it, because he made it abundantly clear that he did. He loosened his grip so he could lower me gently to my back. We were doing this here?

"Joel…" I purred as his lips pressed against my sternum. His hands were now searching me, tracing over every bit of exposed flesh as if trying to memorize the terrain. It was so satisfying. I felt treasured, admired. I moved my hands to touch him, but he grabbed my wrists, hoisting them above my head so he could continue his ministrations without interruption. With one hand, he undid the button of my shorts. Then, he shot me a look to make sure I would behave before letting me go.

I sure as hell wasn't going to fight him. He was giving me exactly what I wanted.

He hooked his hands around my thighs, pulling me towards him so that my ass was barely on the counter. Then, he slid my shorts down my thighs. The slight breeze, however, told me that he took my underwear, too.

"So beautiful." He mumbled, running his hand down my pussy, already slick with arousal. I moaned, squirming atop the counter. My chest picked up its pace, my hands shooting to grip the edges of the outcropping when I felt his soft lips capture my sex.

"Oh my God." He consumed me fully, not missing a single piece as his tongue explored fervently. This man was dangerous, with the ability to wind me up and release me effortlessly. His hands disappeared from me, and I was disappointed until I heard the sound of his zipper. Yes, I wanted him inside of me again. Right here, with me sprawled out on the counter. I wanted him to fuck me senseless.

He hummed against my pussy, and his stubble tickled me.

"Can you- please-?" I choked out, leaning up on my elbows to see the glorious cock that I wanted to disappear inside of me. He was hard and wanting, his hazy eyes making contact with mine. With the cock of his brow, I knew he was going to make me say it. "Fuck me, Joel." I whispered, thick with desire.

Then, as if freeing a caged animal, his lips crashed down onto mine, as his cock buried deep. I cried into his mouth, clinging to his shoulders as he began to move. The way his taut muscles rolled against me with each thrust had me panting. I was burning up with unbridled cravings, and he was satisfying each and every one.

"You want it rougher, baby?" His husky voice rang against my jaw, and he nibbled me, his hands pulling down my bra straps simultaneously.

Honestly, Callie was more than a bitch. She had to be the dumbest bitch to ever walk the earth. How could someone leave a man that could bring so much pleasure?

"God, yes!" I practically howled, arching my back into him. He trailed his hot tongue down my neck to my newly exposed nipple, taking it into his mouth.

Then, he bit down, hard.

"Motherfucker!" I cursed, gripping onto his hair and tugging. Except I didn't pull him off. I pushed him down harder. This bastard turned me into a fucking masochist. It was incredible, and I could feel my emotions pouring out with the pain. Every single word he had said, every time he pissed me off, ran through my head as fuel. My aggression was my passion, and I knew it was the same for him. He leaned back, breaking my hold with a shake of his head as he gripped my hips, drilling into me harder.

"Fuck, Jen. You like this, don't you? The pain." With that, he reached up, smacking my breast before coming back to massage it roughly. "It's so good." He groaned, eyeing me from beneath his heavy lids.

I nodded emphatically, no longer able to omit any noises beyond my pleasure. He grunted, sweat making his flawless body glisten with the light shining through the window.

I had never been more thankful to live on the third floor.

My legs wrapped around him on instinct as my orgasm approached, my hips rolling along his shaft as a means to slow his assault, but he unhooked them, spreading my legs wider to ensure I could feel him fully.

The brutality of his hips connecting with mine only made my climax that much more intense, and I shot up, grabbing onto the back of his neck as I growled out my orgasm.

"Fuck, yes!" He grounded when my pussy walls clamped down on him. I managed to pull him down, clashing our teeth in a mid-climax kiss. He clung to me, his heavy breathing a tether, keeping me locked in place. I felt a nearly uncomfortable swelling from inside of me, followed by his groan against my lips. Then, warmth. Beautiful, wonderful, warmth.

Oh God.

The warmth was pooling, trickling from me as he pulled out.

He came inside of me.

Shit.

But he's sterile. I would hate to bring it up by panicking about it. He couldn't even have a kid when he wanted one. It would be cruel to mention it now.

But what if he wasn't sterile? What if he just had low odds of insemination? It would be reckless to not use protection, then.

His hands rubbed down my arms, his eyes meeting mine apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I'm not used to, um, using protection. I'll do it next time. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." His voice was soft, and I felt terrible that he even had to say anything at all. I offered him a small smile, my body still weak from our activity. Seeing this, he smirked, wrapping me wholly in his wide arms so that I rested against his chest where I heard his still-frantic pulse.

And just like that, my fears were gone, being replaced by something new, something unknown.

It was terrifying, yet thrilling, and I wanted more.