28. Claire
28
CLAIRE
“You think you’re funny.”
I look up from my laptop and arch a brow. “I assure you; I take myself quite seriously.”
Jonah walks toward me. I work to keep my expression bored, but my chest rises and falls with my quickening breaths. His attention drops to the movement, and his jaw pops. When he looks back at my face, his eyes are heated. It sends a shiver through me.
“Are you proud of yourself, Trouble? Tying me up. Using me to come. Then leaving me hard and horny?”
I smirk. “I am, actually.”
“Hm.” He kneels in front of me, and my excitement spikes. He taps on my laptop screen. “Is your work saved?”
I narrow my eyes. “Yes.”
“Good.”
Carefully, he closes the laptop and sets it on the table beside the couch. Then he leans in, putting his hands on the back of the couch and bracketing me between his forearms. His scent overwhelms me. Woodsy bodywash and sweat. I inhale slowly.
“Are we even now?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Are we?”
I don’t understand the emotion that passes over his face. I want to run my fingers over his lips, but I don’t. His blue eyes bounce between mine like he’s searching for something, and then he shakes his head .
“No. We’re not even. But I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
My chest warms from the inside. He’s not talking about orgasms. He’s not talking about sex at all. It’s so much more. My next breath is shaky, and for some reason, I want to cry. I nod.
“Okay,” I whisper, and then his lips are on me.
He kisses me slowly, tongue caressing mine as we move in time with each other. His calloused hands cup my face. I wrap my arms around his neck. He doesn’t take it further. Doesn’t try to turn things heated.
He doesn’t, so I do.
I slip my fingers in his hair and deepen the kiss. I scoot forward, leaving no room between us. I press my breasts to his chest. I widen my legs so I can pull him closer. When I bite his lip, he groans into my mouth.
He pulls away, so I move my lips to his neck, and he groans again. “We don’t have to do this, Claire.”
“I know.”
I try to pull him onto the couch with me, but he pulls back again and grabs my wrist. He brings my hand between us, opens my fingers, then presses a kiss to my palm.
It’s the softest, most gentle gesture I’ve ever received. The intimacy makes my heart squeeze. It makes my chest ache. I feel cherished. I feel important, and I don’t understand it. I don’t understand him .
A quiet, terrified part of me prays that this isn’t another trick. If it is, it will break me. There will be no coming back from this for me. Mentally, emotionally, I don’t think I could handle it. I don’t know when it happened. I don’t know how. But I’ve fallen so fucking hard for this man, and if he doesn’t feel the same, it will ruin me.
It will ruin me completely.
He traces calloused fingers over my jaw, then cradles my face with both hands. When he presses his forehead to mine, my eyes flutter shut. He brings his lips to mine, then whispers so quietly, it’s barely more than an exhale. His words pass between us like a shared breath. I breathe them in, down my throat, to my lungs, and into my bloodstream. I feel them in my body. In my heart. In every organ. Part of me.
Permanent.
“I promise. ”
I kiss him. I kiss him fiercely. I want to breathe him in with those words. I want to make him permanent, and the thought scares me.
The last time I told someone I loved him, he broke my heart. I wasn’t who he wanted. I wasn’t enough, and it sent me spiraling downward at such a rapid pace that I couldn’t recover. I lost control. I almost lost everything.
I pull Jonah closer. I want him on top of me. I want the weight of him to force the past from my memories. He’s here. It’s him. It’s not the same as anyone before him.
“I want you,” I say. “I want you now.”
In one swift motion, he stands and lifts me into his arms. He carries me to the bedroom without breaking our kiss, then lays me gently on my bed. He stands again and takes off his shirt. I do the same. When he undoes his pants, I follow suit. I match his movements step for step, until we’re both naked, and I’m reaching for him.
When his body covers mine, I sigh with relief. I press myself against him, wrapping my legs around his waist. I want to merge us together. Melt him into me. I want his cells to be my cells. Permanent .
I snake my hand between us and grab him. I squeeze his hard cock, and he grunts into my mouth. I guide him through my pussy lips until he’s where I want him, and then I press my hips up as he pushes down.
We both moan when he enters me. He stretches and fills me, then he moves. He pulses slowly, hinging his hips and curving his lower half so he hits me deep. I don’t stop kissing him. I don’t let our bodies separate.
“You’re perfect,” he murmurs into my mouth. “You’re perfect, Claire.”
It brings tears to my eyes. My impulse is to protest. To tell him I’m not perfect. I’m dark, and angry, and messed up. I’m not who you think I am. I’ll never be.
I don’t. I keep the confessions inside. I shove them far away, because this moment is perfect. Right now, with him, I feel perfect. I feel fresh and clean and new. I love you , I want to say. I love you. Please don’t leave.
Please don’t hurt me.
I won’t survive it.
I won’t survive him.
I dream of Jonah.
Of his arms wrapped around me. Of his breath and lips on my neck. His hands on my body. Cupping my breasts. Splayed across my stomach, pressing me into him.
Jonah , I whisper. My lips move, but there’s no sound. Just breath. Jonah .
His cock pushes into me from behind. A whole new sensation. A whole new angle. I moan and pulse against him. His hand slides down my stomach to my pelvis. His fingers rub on my clit. I moan louder.
Yes, yes, yes.
“That’s right, baby.” His voice is in my ear. Low and strained. “Come for me, Trouble. Come for me.”
His hand grabs my throat, his fingers pressing in the sides of my neck lightly, and my orgasm startles me awake. My eyes fly open, and I cry out, the soft dawn glow streaming through the windows, but Jonah is still here. Still inside me. Still wrapped around me.
“Oh my God,” I say on a gasp, and he hums in my ear.
“Good morning.” He pulls out and I roll over, taking his lips in a desperate kiss. “You’re so soft. So eager for me even when you’re sleeping.”
“I’m always eager for you.” I climb on top of him and waste no time sliding down onto his cock. “Fuck.”
“Always?” He punctuates the question with a thrust up, making me gasp. “Even when you’re mad at me?”
“Yes,” I cry out as he starts a punishing rhythm. “Especially when I’m mad.”
“Good.” He wraps his hand around my throat once more, squeezes once, then slides to my collarbone. His gives me a light push. “Now lean back and put your hands on my thighs. I need to see it for real.”
I blush. He’s referring to the blindfold. I rode him shamelessly when he couldn’t see me and his hands were tied, and he wants me to do it again.
I do as he says. I support my weight on his thighs and his eyes go straight to my pussy. To where his cock is sliding in and out of me.
“Fuck me, it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I’m emboldened. I move my body faster. I rock back and forth. I bounce up and down. It feels so good that my mouth falls open with heavy, panted breaths. I want to drop my head back and close my eyes, but watching him is too captivating. Jonah’s blue eyes are full of heat. His expression is hungry and awestruck.
“You like this?” I ask, already knowing the answer. “You like watching me fuck you?”
“Fuck, yes.” I swirl my hips, and he groans. “I want to fucking film it and watch it over and over. You’re a fucking goddess.”
In this moment, I feel like a goddess. Worshipped and powerful. It’s enough to make me come. When he lifts up on one forearm and uses his free hand to rub my clit, my orgasm hits like a tidal wave. He barely touches me, and I’m digging my nails into his thighs and screaming.
“Jonah, oh my God.”
I’m sure the others can hear me. The whole hotel, maybe. Right now, I don’t care.
I fall forward and wrap my hands around his neck.
“Fuck, Trouble. You’re going to make me come.”
His Adam’s apple bobs under my thumb, that tattooed heart rising and falling with every labored breath, every rough swallow. His throat vibrates with his groan. I think I can feel his rapid, thundering pulse under my fingers.
“Yes. Like that.” His encouragement eggs me on, and I squeeze slightly. Just a little. Mimicking what he did to me. “Fuck, Claire.”
He wraps his hands around my wrists. His eyes penetrate mine. That same rapturous expression. Begging me silently. A supplicant.
Then I ride him.
“Jesus.” He chokes out the word with his teeth gritted, and I grin.
“No, Jonah. Claire.”
He lets out a pained laugh. His heart tattoo throbs under my thumbs.
“Fuck, Claire. Just like that. Fuck.”
I pulse around him. I make him moan and chant my name. I make his face twist up and his mouth gape open. I squeeze him until he releases my wrists and grips my hips. Then he pounds into me.
“Oh my God,” I say on a low moan. “Yes. Yes. Harder.”
Quickly, I’m flipped onto my back, and he obeys, thrusting into me hard and fast. My whole body quakes with the impact as he fucks me, but I want more. I need more .
“Choke me.”
He freezes and his eyes jump to mine. There’s no hiding the excitement in them.
“What did you say?”
“Choke me, Jonah.” I grab his wrist and move it to my throat. “Choke me, please.”
His chest heaves, and his eyes fall to his hand. He flexes his fingers around my neck slightly, then bites his lip.
“Are you sure?”
“God, yes.”
He hesitates, bouncing his attention between my eyes and my throat.
“I’m not going to restrict oxygen.”
“No.”
“Yes. It’s that or nothing. I don’t want to risk hurting you.”
“You won’t.”
“Claire, please. That or nothing.”
I want to protest. I want to tell him I don’t want gentle. I want everything. But the look in his eyes stops me, and I nod.
“Okay.”
“What’s your safe word?”
I arch a brow. “Elephant.”
His lips curve into a smirk. “Smartass.”
I clench around his cock, and he grunts, then hits me with a sinful grin.
“Careful. You’re going to get yourself in trouble.”
“I can handle it.”
Slowly, he lowers himself back over me, keeping his hand around my neck and bringing his face inches from mine.
“I want you to use your safe word if you’re uncomfortable or if you feel me applying pressure any heavier than this.”
I swallow, my throat expanding and contracting in his hand. “You’re applying barely any pressure at all.”
“Exactly.” I scowl, and he chuckles before taking my lower lip between his teeth and biting lightly. “Quit pouting. We can work up to more, but not now. Any discomfort. Any pressure. Use your safe word.”
I nod, and he flexes his hips, hitting me deep with his cock and making me whimper .
“Say you understand, Claire.”
“I understand. Any discomfort or pressure, I say elephant.”
He grins and presses another kiss to my lips.
“Thank you,” he says, and then he starts to move again.
He tries to go slowly, but I don’t let him. I buck up into him and make him fuck me faster. He groans and drops his forehead to mine. His fingers flex around my neck.
“I’ve had dreams of this. Fucking you with my hand wrapped around your pretty little throat.” He cants his hips to the side, and I gasp at the new sensation. “You fit so perfectly in my hand, Trouble. I can feel your heartbeat. I can feel your breathing. Everything I need right in my palm.”
“I love it,” I rasp out. “I love having your hand around my throat.”
“Fuck.”
His groan is almost pained, and he speeds up. He flexes his fingers again, pulsing them around me. I can breathe. I’m not lightheaded. But it’s so sensual and erotic. I’m so turned on that my skin is buzzing.
“Just think of all the ways I’m going to fuck you.”
His forearm puts pressure on my collarbone, pinning me into the mattress, while he pushes up on his other arm so he can peer down at me.
“Every surface. Every position. Every country. I’m going to own every fucking orgasm from now on, Trouble. Until my cock smells permanently like your pussy. Until your cum is all I taste. Until every time I make a fist, you feel it around this pretty little fucking throat, and it makes you wet.”
Every word is rasped and gritty, and I picture everything he says. It pushes me closer and closer to the edge. My pussy throbs and clenches around him rhythmically. His body starts to quake. His movement grows frantic.
“Fuck, Claire. Fuck.”
“Are you going to come with me, Jonah?”
“God, yes.”
He drops back down and wraps his arm around my back, holding me against him just as his muscles tense. Our sweaty bodies collide, connected from sternum to thigh, and it’s still not close enough. He jerks and curls around me as we come together. His low groan matches mine and vibrates through me. He pants into my neck, then buries his face into my hair.
He doesn’t let go of me. He doesn’t slide out of me. He just holds me closer, then presses kisses to my head. My ear. My shoulder and jaw. Then, finally, my lips.
“You’re mine, Claire Davis.” He growls the words into my mouth possessively, almost angrily, with his hand still wrapped around my throat. “Do you understand what I’m saying? You’re mine.”
I nod and take his lips again.
I understand.
I don’t think he does, though. Not the true extent of it.
He might mean I’m his right now, but my heart will be his forever.
Checkmate , Jonah Hendrix.
You’ve won.