Chapter 32 Winnie
WINNIE
Jonah’s fingers feel like heaven inside of me. There’s something intensely sexy about the fact that I’m completely naked and he’s fully clothed. I feel vulnerable, but in a good way, like I can trust that he’ll take care of that vulnerability—he’ll honor it.
“Lean forward,” he says roughly.
I do as he says more quickly than I want to admit, but I find following Jonah’s lead in bed easy.
He angles his head so he can capture my nipple in his mouth.
He starts to lick and suck at it, at the same time as his fingers move in and out of me.
He moves and grabs my other nipple between his teeth, and his finger starts working over my clit.
It’s never felt this good with anyone else—but then I’ve never met anyone like Jonah before.
“You’re slippery with need, Win,” he murmurs. “I’m so turned on watching you like this.”
I can do nothing but whimper in response and grind my hips down into his hand. He sucks at one of my nipples again and then bites it lightly, making me see stars. I’m on the edge of pleasure, but Jonah keeps winding me tighter and tighter.
“How would you like to come on my cock?”
I glance down at my husband’s face and see that he has a devilish look on his face, and his pupils are blown wide with desire.
I answer him by tugging at his belt. Together we drag his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to slip free.
It’s thick and long, veined and hard, and I swallow as I take it in.
I take the lead now, and lower myself onto his lap, rubbing myself along his length. We both groan and Jonah bucks his hips, dragging himself through my wetness.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks me. “About us? I mean we never discussed things—and it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
I know what he means. It wasn’t supposed to feel so perfect between us, but it does. We weren’t supposed to be anything other than a marriage of convenience, but this blows convenience out of the water.
“I’m sure,” I say simply.
“Good,” Jonah growls.
Using his hand, he guides me onto the head of his cock. I sink down, inch by glorious inch, feeling myself stretch around him. He moves in and out a few times, and I gasp at the feeling of it. Of him.
“I didn’t know it could feel like this. So full and perfect and God, Jonah, it’s so good and we’re so good, and I…” I trail off, knowing that I’m babbling.
“It’s fucking perfect, Winnie. You’re perfect.”
I start to move, working myself up and down on his cock, gasping as the thick length of him spears through me. Jonah leans back and watches me, a gleam in his eyes.
“I love watching you bounce around on my cock like this.”
I whimper, and lift my hips up and down, trying to find the perfect angle to take him. Jonah thrusts upwards and guides me with his hands, helping me find the rhythm.
“I want to watch you make yourself come,” he orders. “I want to see you fall apart with my cock anchored inside of you.”
I move again, this time twisting my hips as I grind down on him. With the hand I’m not using to support myself, I reach down and stroke my clit.
“Fuck, Winnie,” Jonah curses. His hands tighten around my hips and I can tell he’s holding himself back, letting me lead.
I feel more powerful and in control than I have in months. In years.
After a few more moments, I start to come, waves of pleasure building inside of me.
Jonah holds me firmly, and thrusts upwards as my orgasm sweeps through me.
I feel another one building and I cry out, moving my fingers faster, chasing my pleasure.
When I’m done I go limp and sprawl across Jonah’s chest.
“That was…I don’t have the words for it.”
“Good. And I’m not done with you yet.” Jonah sits up, picks me up off of the couch, and I wrap my legs around him.
He kicks his jeans off completely, and starts walking us over to the main bedroom.
“Our first time deserves a bed. At least for part of it,” he explains.
He places me gently on top of the covers, and I frown at the loss of him inside me.
Jonah strips his shirt off and crawls over me, his cock hanging heavy between us. “If I fuck you here, Win, I’m sleeping here too. I won’t have sex with my wife, but sleep in separate rooms.”
“Good.” I tug him forward and then hook my legs around him. “I wanted to ask you to sleep in here anyways. That other bed is way too small for you. You barely fit.”
Jonah grins down at me, and then he notches himself at my entrance and is inside me once more.
He fucks me in long thrusts, his face pressed next to mine in the pillow.
I hold him against me, rocking upwards to meet each thrust, relishing the way he feels sliding in and out of me, relishing all that he is.
He’s closer to me than he’s ever been, but it doesn’t feel like enough.
Heat builds inside me once more, and I claw at his back, dragging him towards me even more.
His strokes become faster and harder, until he groans and spills himself inside me.
He collapses and rolls off of me, his breathing heavy and his chest heaving.
“That was…” he starts to say.
“I know.” I roll over to face him and smile. “I’ve never had sex like that.”
“Me neither,” he admits.
He reaches out and tugs me towards him, nestling me against his chest. I stay up until he falls asleep, listening to his breathing getting deeper, feeling his leg twitching a bit. It makes me happy to share such a domestic moment with Jonah.
Almost like we’re just a normal couple after all.
I wake up with the sun, as always, though this time, I’m not alone.
Jonah is in bed with me, his naked, sculpted body stretched out long beside me.
I take a moment to stare at his tattoos.
He’s on his back, so I can see most of them.
On one bicep he has an anvil and a trail of horseshoes that wrap around it.
Another is of a collection of tumbling wild flowers, which cover his shoulder and part of his chest. There are lyrics wrapping around his other arm, but I can’t make them all out.
He stirs in his sleep, rolling away from me and cutting my examination short.
I sit up carefully and start smoothing down my hair.
There’s no telling when he’ll wake up and I don’t want to look like a complete mess when he does.
I didn’t take off my makeup last night before bed, something I haven’t done in years for fear of getting a pimple, and I’m sure my mascara is running.
I swing my legs over and hop out of bed, and try to be as quiet as possible as I creep over to the door.
“Where are you going?” Jonah says, his voice groggy with sleep.
“To pee!” I say and scamper out of the room.
One look in the bathroom mirror tells me that I made the right choice.
My face is puffy and my eye makeup is smeared.
Meanwhile, my hair looks like a nest built by a bird who really, really didn’t know what it was doing.
I grab my brush and start working through the tangles, and once I’m done, I start washing my face.
I smell my pit, and groan. Great. I turn the shower on. If I’m quick, I can make it back to bed before Jonah’s the wiser. Hopefully he fell back to sleep already.
I turn to shut the bathroom door, and shriek.
“Jonah! You scared the shit out of me.”
My husband is leaning against the door frame watching me with a bemused expression.
“How long have you been there?” I demand.
“Long enough to see that you’re not just peeing. What are you doing?”
“Making myself look nice for you.”
As soon as I say the words, I realize how stupid and silly they sound.
A lot of work goes into making myself look as good as I do on a daily basis, but I’m not supposed to let a man, especially one I’m sleeping with, know that.
Women are supposed to look perfect, and men are supposed to think they got that way naturally, and admitting how much effort it all takes is the antithesis of cool.
“Win, you don’t need to do anything to make yourself look nice. You always look good.” Jonah catches my wrist in his hand and pulls me flush against him.
“But my hair looked like a bird’s nest.”
“That’s sweet,” he says, and drops a kiss on my nose.
“I had mascara smeared on my face like a raccoon.”
“Raccoons are pretty cute.” Another kiss lands on my cheek.
“And I smelled bad.”
He leans down and buries his face in my neck. “You smell like sex. Which just makes me want to have sex with you all over again.”
“Your cum is dried on my thighs! I need to shower.”
A smug look crosses Jonah’s face, followed quickly by one of concern. “Fuck. We didn’t use protection. I should have had a condom but…well, I don’t think I have any in the house anyways. It’s been a while for me.”
“It’s okay. I’ve had a copper IUD for a while. I didn’t want to get pregnant and give my parents another way to control me.” I shrug, but I don’t think it does much to cover up the bleakness of that statement.
Jonah brushes my hair gently from my face. “Why don’t we shower? It’ll feel good.”
I nod. He turns the water to hot, and we get in, the steam soon surrounding us. Jonah’s house is small, but the bathroom is a decent size and the shower easily fits us both under the overhead jet. He grabs my bottle of shampoo and lathers some between his hands.
“You know,” he says, “I’ve been secretly using this stuff. It smells amazing.” He works it into my hair, massaging my scalp as he does.
“I know you have been. I can smell it on you. But I don’t mind. My friend Carly works at a salon and always gives me a discount. She’s actually the one who helped me get out of Alabama.”
“She sounds like a good friend.” He tilts my head back with one hand and rinses the suds out of my hair.
“She is.” I moan as his fingers continue to massage my head. “That feels so good. Now turn around.”
Jonah gives me a confused look.
“It’s my turn to take care of you now,” I say.
Jonah puts his back to me and I grab the shampoo.
I scrub his hair, taking special care to massage his head, the same way he did for me.
At first he’s tense, and I can tell he’s not used to letting someone care for him this way.
But when I move down his neck and start lightly working some of the knots there, he starts to relax under my hands.
I move over to his shoulders, and he lets out a groan and his head lolls forward.
“A bit tense?” I ask.
“I’ve been stressed out,” Jonah admits. “I thought getting rid of the medical debt would ease my anxiety, but now I’m just worried about my mom’s test results.”
My stomach sinks. “We’ll hear soon though, right?”
“Tomorrow. I hope.” His voice fractures around the word hope and I lean in and rest my head on his back, and wrap my arms around his front.
There’s nothing I can really say. I can’t say it will be okay because I have no idea if it will be or not, and I already know that Jonah isn’t a man who likes lies—even the ones we tell ourselves to make it feel better.
“Waiting is the worst part. I won’t truly be able to relax until we hear the results. Although this—you—has helped.” He turns around and a small smile is on his face. It makes me feel like I’ve won a million bucks. No, more than that. Something invaluable.
Note to self: take care of Jonah. Every damn day.