Jordan’s Deliverance by Tiffany Monique Read Free Book Online Page B

couldn’t take it anymore, he began to slide gently in and out of her sweetness. He leaned above her, bringing her thigh with him so her knee was by her shoulder. He used his free hand to cup her cheek, and with clenched teeth he groaned.
    “Open your eyes, sweet viper. Look at me.”
    Jordan’s head had been thrashing on the pillow, her plump bottom lip clenched in her teeth as she concentrated on the pleasure he was giving her. When she finally stilled her head, and all Riordan could hear was her heavy panting and the sweet, wet sucking of him filling her up, he spoke.
    “I will never hurt you. I will only give you pleasure. I’m making a promise to you, Jordan. Do you understand me? Do you see me?” he ended forcefully.
    “I see you,” she whispered, running her fingertips over his face. “Kiss me, Viking.”
    Riordan rained hungry kisses down on her and reached between them to massage her clit furiously. When she began to whine and keen, when tears began to fall from her eyes at the beautiful tension, he plunged into her hard, over and over, bringing her to bliss. She was shuddering and still whimpering, weak, and replete when he finally let go and bathed her sweet walls in the warmth of his love.
    Falling to her side, he pulled her soft cotton sheets around them. They would talk about next steps in the morning, but now he just wanted her sleeping, in his arms, at peace.

Chapter Nine
     
     
    Jordan knew that feeling, when hard muscle was heavy on her torso, keeping her softer, smaller, twelve-year-old form still. When the demon’s heavy breath blasted her ear and cussin’ would pierce through her brain like pins through her scalp. Don’t move , she repeated silently to herself, over and over. If I don’t do anything to make him mad, this will stop. Please, Mommy, wake up and make him stop.
    “Every time I come home, this place is a pigsty and your useless mother is passed out on the damn sofa. I’m not gonna tell you again that this is not a flophouse. Earn your keep or I’m kicking you both out on your ass. You wanna be a homeless whore like your mother was when I found her? Do ya?”
    Jordan’s large eyes widened at the threat. No, she didn’t want to go back out on the street again, walking all night to find safe shelter to lay her head. She hated having to choose to stay with her mother on the street after she’d finally passed out or having to physically drag her through the doors of a shelter. She didn’t like being teased at school for being dirty or hungry but at least she was able to attend after a social worker accompanied her mother and her to enrollment earlier in the year.
    Before her grandma died and they were on their own she had always said, “Education will get you outta here, chil’. Beg, borrow and steal for it if you have to. It will give you freedom.” Jordan shook her head no, afraid to speak in case the demon would be set off.
    The demon had pinned her to the wall and was lying heavy on her legs and tummy, keeping her much shorter form at eye level. He let go abruptly, letting her fall in a sobbing heap on the cheap, linoleum kitchen floor. He walked with purpose over to her mother’s prone form, knocking her rum and vodka bottles over in his wake. Fist held high, he brought it down on her temple, knocking her off of the sofa and onto the floor.  Then gripping her mother’s arm, he dragged her toward the bathroom. Following on wobbly legs out of the kitchen, Jordan made a motion to reach for her mother’s other arm and their eyes met in that moment. Even in the midst of her surprise assault and drunken stupor, Amanda Anderson shook her head no, waving her child away. She would take her licks in the bathroom, get thrown in the shower to sober up, and if she was able to still stand, clean up the chaos left in the demon’s wake.
    Jordan knew the drill; she knew what was coming, and she couldn’t bear to hear the wet sound of skin striking skin again, so she scrambled to