17. Jonah
SEVENTEEN
Jonah
7:47 PM
The space between us tightens, the kind of charged moment that makes everything else—time, place, reason—completely irrelevant. Harper’s eyes linger on mine, and there’s no mistaking the flicker of want that crosses her face. It’s not subtle, and it’s not meant to be.
I don’t think; I just move. I lean over toward her. One hand slides to the side of her neck, my thumb brushing the edge of her jaw. Her breath hitches, and instead of over-analyzing like I know she’s prone to do, she leans into the touch, her lips parting just slightly.
“Harper,” I murmur, my voice lower than I intend. The sound comes out raw, like it’s carrying more weight than I want it to. But she doesn’t pull back, and that’s all the encouragement I need.
I tilt my head and kiss her—not tentative, not waiting for permission, but fully, with everything I’ve been holding back. Her lips meet mine, soft and warm, and I feel her melt against me, one hand finding its way to the back of my neck, her fingers curling into my hair. She’s not hesitating either.
It’s not just a kiss; it’s a claim, like we’re both saying everything we didn’t have the guts to before. When she pulls back slightly, her lips still brushing mine, she lets out a soft laugh, almost disbelieving.
When my lips meet hers, it’s like the world falls away. No pretense, no hesitation—just us. Her hands move to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as the kiss deepens. She tastes like wine and something distinctly Harper, and I can’t get enough. It’s not just a kiss—it’s an unraveling, a confession neither of us has been willing to say out loud.
When we finally break apart, her breathing is uneven, her lips slightly swollen, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. “Jonah,” she murmurs, her voice a mix of amusement and surrender. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”
“Only if you let me be,” I reply, my tone low, teasing. But my hand slides along her arm, coaxing her closer, needing her closer.
I pull her onto my lap where she sits on my engorged cock. Her laugh fades as my hands find her hips and pull her closer. She doesn’t resist. In fact, she shifts willingly, straddling me in one fluid motion that leaves us both breathless.
Her round ass on me feels so good I could go right here. But I don't want to rush it. I want to feel her tighten around me.
My pulse kicks up as she gyrates on me. I slide my hands to her hips, holding her steady, grounding myself in her weight.
She moans as she kisses me and then pulls back. “You know what’s dangerous? How much I want you right now.”
“Yeah?” I murmur, brushing my lips along the curve of her jaw. “Good, because I’m not planning on stopping anytime soon.” I rub between her legs and feel her wetness through her thin leggings.
Her breath catches as my hands move, one slipping under her shirt to press against her lower back. She tilts her head, giving me access to the curve of her neck, and I take full advantage, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there.
“Jonah,” she whispers, her hands gripping my shoulders as her body presses against mine. The way she says my name is a spark, igniting something I didn’t know was waiting to burn.
I pull back slightly, catching her gaze. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes dark and full of something I don’t have the words for. “Harper,” I say, my voice rough, “tell me if this is too much.”
Instead of answering, she leans in, kissing me again, and her body melts into mine. My hands slide lower, gripping her hips as I fight to keep some semblance of control, but it’s slipping fast.
She pulls back just enough to look at me, her fingers trailing down my chest. “Jonah,” she murmurs, her tone softer now. “Maybe we should... go to your room?”
The words send a jolt through me, and I nod, unable to do anything but agree. “Yeah,” I say, my voice thick. “Yeah, let’s go.”
“You’re really bad at this pretending thing,” she teases, her voice breathless, as she opens the sliding glass door.
“Terrible at it,” I admit as I pull her to me and steal another kiss. I nip at her lower lip just enough to make her gasp. “Which is why I’m not pretending anymore.”
She pulls my hand and walks toward the back of my condo. "Come…"
“Yes,” I answer, my hands losing my grip on the hem of her shirt. The loss of her warmth has me following her like the Pied Piper. “Whatever you want, the answer’s yes.”
The door clicks shut behind us, and I can feel the heat of Harper's body against mine in the dimly lit hallway. My heart is pounding, and my hands itch to explore every inch of her. I'm keenly aware of the thin walls, the need for silence with Lila resting just beyond them. It's a delicate balance—this hunger for Harper, the quiet we must maintain. It's a thrill, a dance on the edge of control.
Harper's eyes reflect the same need that's coursing through my veins. I reach for the hem of her shirt, my fingers brushing the soft skin of her stomach. She lifts her arms, allowing me to pull the fabric over her head, revealing the sports bra underneath. I make quick work of it, my hands trembling slightly as I free the generous swell of her breasts. Her leggings follow, sliding down the curve of her hips, taking her panties with them, until she stands before me, naked and flushed with desire.
My gaze roams over her, drinking in the sight of her body bathed in the soft glow of my bedside lamp. "You're fucking exquisite," I whisper, my voice husky with want. I trace the curve of her waist with my fingertips, reveling in the way her breath hitches at my touch. "Every inch of you makes me ache."
She reaches for me, her hands fumbling with the buttons of my shirt, the urgency in her movements matching my own. Together, we peel away the layers of my clothing, our hands skimming, our mouths meeting in hungry, desperate kisses. I break away only long enough to retrieve a condom from the nightstand, rolling it on with practiced ease while my lips and hands continue their exploration of her body.
We fall onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, the urgency between us building to a fever pitch. I position myself between her legs, the tip of my cock teasing her entrance, eliciting a sharp gasp from her lips. "Do you want this, Harper?" I murmur, nipping at her earlobe. "Do you want me inside you?"
"Yes," she breathes, her fingers digging into my back. "Jonah, please..."
I give her what we both crave, pushing into her with a single, smooth stroke. She's slick and tight around me, and it takes all my self-control not to lose myself completely in the sensation. We rock together, our bodies finding a rhythm that's both familiar and new. The quiet of the room is punctuated by our stifled moans, the creaking of the bed, and the sound of our skin meeting in the dim light.
The tension coils tighter with each thrust, each whispered plea, each stolen kiss. Harper's breathing quickens, her muscles trembling as I drive us both toward the brink. "I'm close," she whispers, her voice strained, and I feel her body respond, her inner walls clenching around me.
With a final, desperate surge, we fall over the edge together. Our cries of release are muffled by the necessity of silence. The climax rocks through me, a white-hot wave of pleasure that leaves me shuddering and spent.
As our breathing slows and the world comes back into focus, I roll onto my side. I pull Harper against me and inhale her scent. Her head rests on my chest as her body relaxes into mine. I press a kiss to her temple, and my heart swells with a feeling of utter and complete contentment.