004. His Vulnerable Side

Sierra's POV

I heard the commotion inside but stayed back, my heart pounding. Moments later, the door swung open, and Jordan stepped out, his hair disheveled, his knuckles bloodied. He looked like he was barely holding himself together. What must have gone wrong? 

"Let’s go." His voice was clipped, giving me no room to ask the questions. I followed without a word, feeling the tension radiating from him as we moved through the building. The workers averted their eyes, sensing the cold in his behavior. 

Hours later, we arrived back at the mansion. Jordan stepped out, slamming the car door so hard it shook, then stormed inside. I found him in the living room, pacing with wild energy, his fingers threading through his hair.

"I hate it when I give orders, and you ignore them," he spat out, his voice dangerously low. "Because of you, I severed ties with my Chinese investors."

I frowned, bewildered. "What did I do?"

"How many times do I have to remind you I’m a Mafia boss?" he snapped. "People will look for anything they can use against me. And today, one of those men made an indecent comment about you. I had to kill him."

He dropped onto the couch, cradling his bloodied hand against his forehead. His shoulders sagged, and something in me softened. I hated that I felt empathy for him, but there it was. I moved closer.

“I’m sorry…”

"No, you're not." He stood abruptly, heading for the door. His words hung in the air, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.

Everyone called Jordan a monster, and maybe he was. But I'd glimpsed something different—a deeper part of him that he kept tightly guarded.

Later, I found him on the balcony, blowing smoke into the night. His silhouette was a hard line against the city lights, a figure in the shadows of the night. I didn’t want this coldness between us, so I stepped forward.

“Not now, Sierra,” he said sharply without looking back.

"You can’t just push me away every time you're angry,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt. “I may not understand your world, but you don’t get to keep me in the dark."

He turned, his gaze sharp. "Do you know why I married you?" His voice softened, the hard edges receding for just a moment. “My wife… The guilt over her death is something I live with every day. I couldn’t handle leaving her for another woman. And I married you for business, for protection." He looked away, his jaw tight. "Until they tried to use you against me.”

The weight of his pain showed so clearly then, and my heart twisted. I moved to him, and he didn’t pull back. My hand brushed his arm, and he tensed, eyes searching mine.

“Thank you for standing up for me,” I whispered.

In an instant, he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me against him, his lips crashing onto mine. The kiss was raw, a blend of anger and passion. He lifted me, his hands firm against my back, carrying me to the bedroom.

Once inside, he lowered me to the bed, his eyes searching mine as he hesitated, a hint of uncertainty showing across his face. I reached up, cradling his face between my hands.

“Don’t overthink it, Jordan,” I murmured. “I’m yours.”

That was all he needed. He kissed me deeply, his hands exploring with reverence and heat. Every touch, every caress felt charged, igniting a fire within me. His lips moved to my neck, his breath hot against my skin, and I gasped, pulling him closer.

I helped him undid his clothes, my hands trembling slightly as I unhooked his belt. When his pants fell, I looked up to his huge member, so huge that I gasped at the sight of it. A shiver of anticipation running through me as I took him in. He was everything I’d imagined and more—powerful, commanding, yet tender in the way he held me.

He lowered me back onto the bed, his body pressing into mine as he thrusted slowly, gently at first. I gasped, my body adjusting to the feel of him, a mix of pleasure and pain that blurred together. He paused, his gaze meeting mine, searching to see if I was okay, and I nodded, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, pulling him deeper.

The rhythm of his movements grew steady, each thrust sending a wave of heat and pleasure through me. He filled every part of me, his touch both fierce and worshipful, like he was pouring his unspoken words into every kiss, every caress. My breath came in short gasps, my fingers digging into his back as I clung to him, surrendering to the sensations.

Time seemed to blur, and all I felt was him—his warmth, his strength, the softness hidden beneath the hardened exterior. His name fell from my lips as he moved faster, bringing me to a crescendo that left me breathless. And as he reached his own climax, he buried his face in my neck, a rough sound escaping his throat as he shuddered against me.

We lay tangled together, the quiet settling over us like a blanket. His arm was still around me, his breathing steady, grounding. I rested my head on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart—a steady rhythm that somehow felt like home.

As I began to drift off, I heard his voice, soft and barely audible. “I love you.”

My eyes flew open, but he was already asleep. The words lingered in the air, filling me with a warmth I hadn’t expected. Could he mean it?

As the light spilled across his face, I traced the lines of his body, a small smile tugging at my lips. Maybe, just maybe, I was lucky after all to have found this unlikely love.