Chapter 19
nineteen
KIT
Last Request - Paolo Nutini
“Istill can’t believe we actually came dead last.” I stumbled through the front door, trying to escape the snow that had begun to fall.
Behind me, Jonah waved Archie away, a pair of headlights cutting through the dark night as the car turned. “Well, I blame you.”
We’d spent the evening tucked away in a cozy corner of the pub with Archie and Maddie, Jonah whispering trivia answers into my ear and cracking jokes about the quiz master, who got drunker and drunker with each passing question.
“What?” I asked, taken aback as he closed the front door. “How come?”
He grinned, unwrapping his scarf. “Because you sat there distracting me all night.”
“I think it was actually you that was the distraction.” I rolled my eyes, hanging my coat up. I stepped closer, slipping my feet out of my boots. “Hand on my thigh. Whispering answers into my ear.”
He’d sat beside me all night, fingers skimming along the material of my thin tights, easing up and down, playing with the short edge of my skirt.
Jonah closed the gap between us. “You liked it.”
I tried to hold onto the edge of my control, but with the proximity of his body to mine it grew harder and harder. “I think I wrote the answers down wrong.”
“Yeah, well, sitting next to you…” His hands ran up the sides of my legs, skimming a light touch, testing the waters. “It was hard to pay attention to any of the questions.”
“We’re a match made in heaven, aren’t we?” I teased, my heartbeat thumping in my chest.
His lips found mine, the taste as sweet as the rum he’d been drinking. We pushed back into the bedroom, the kiss deepening as my hands clawed at his clothing, growing hungry for more.
When the back of his legs found the bed, he lowered, sitting on the edge.
Jonah looked up at me, his lips puffy, the need darkening his eyes. His hand slid down my side, fingers finding the bottom of my jumper before pushing up and under. Fingers splaying against my waist, gripping against the bare skin.
I lowered myself onto him, skirt pushed up, my core pressed to him.
This man had possessed me like some sort of demon.
And with him underneath me, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.
Instead, my palm moved against the roughness of his jaw, a few days of scruff he’d grown out, and his dark eyes flickered up to meet mine, desperation and hunger clear as day.
My lips met his.
It started slowly, his lips pulling against mine, one of his hands finding my jaw as the other glided up, under my top, skimming up every notch of my spine.
I ground forward, restraining myself from taking too much quickly.
These last few days together, we’d been making the best of our remaining time.
When we were this close, at the end of another day, I could feel the time running short, like watching a snowflake melt in the palm of my hand.
I hadn’t meant it to happen, but I found myself falling for this man.
A deep grumble escaped him as I moved my hips forward again, and I couldn’t help the grin across my lips. Moving my mouth to the crook of his neck, fingers clinging to the back of his shirt, I grew desperate for more.
It was a battle between my will and want. My will to savour, to take my time, and the want to let him completely ruin me.
His fingers found purchase, unclipping my bra underneath, and splayed, his rough callouses electric against my soft skin.
“I need you.” His voice was a breathless plea, his head tilted back to expose his neck to me. I could only kiss my way along it, my hands knotting at the bottom of his shirt before urging it over his head.
The frenzy began, and I lost myself in the dip of his collarbone, his sculpted arms, his strong neck.
My hands scrambled to touch every inch, lips pressing to every available piece of skin.
His hand found my jaw and pulled my mouth to meet his, crushing us together.
Our puffy lips fought for dominance, only briefly parting to allow my jumper off, bra going with it.
A slip of my tongue against his mouth and we grew deeper, his groans rumbling in the back of his throat.
I needed him. I wanted him. I could have him.
With his arms securing me, Jonah stood up, managing to hold me close as he turned around, pressing my back into the mattress.
Jonah’s weight on top of me was a luxury, one I know I wouldn’t have forever, so I revelled in it while I had the chance.
His lips left mine, trailing down my jaw, and found every single sensitive spot along my collarbone, pulling desperate gasps from me like flowers from the ground.
My back arched as his hand found my breast, pressed firmly in the way he’d learned I like best, his fingers rough against my nipple. And when his mouth reached the other, his tongue tracing teasing circles around the peaked flesh, I couldn’t help the moan that escaped from between my lips.
My body was an instrument he’d learned to play. He had practiced all the chords and revised the notes. He was an expert, and I was helpless to the tune.
He sucked hard, pulling roughly on the other, sending spikes of electricity down every nerve ending. Between my thighs, I’d grown needy and wet, my lips rising of their own accord, desperate to meet his thick bulge, even if through jeans.
My fingers pushed down his hips, curling under the denim waistband, trying to shove them off.
His laugh was a splintered grumble. “Impatient as always.”
Jonah looked down at me, a cheeky smirk lighting up his face.
He was truly beautiful; his dark curls like a crown, eyes filled with heat and longing, and lips so pink.
I’d never had a man look at me the way he did, not once.
There was longing in his gaze, a slight crease in his eyebrows that told me he also remembered this had an end.
The way he gripped me, his strong fingers circling my bicep, I knew he wouldn’t let go easily. I was sure the hold was strong enough to leave a bruise that would stick around longer than I would, but I wanted it. I wanted every reminder of him I could get.
When I’m gone, I thought, all I’ll have is this, the memories and fading marks.
I needed to get lost in him, to chase away the edge of sadness that had already wrapped itself around me before I even needed to grieve it. I was here, for now. I was still here.
“Maybe a little,” I managed, my voice hoarse. My hands slid along the front, fingers finding the button that too easily came undone.
Jonah took the hint, sliding off me and kicking off his jeans.
Then, his attention turned to me; he removed my skirt and tights, taking my underwear with them, leaving me naked in front of him.
He blinked heavily, his gaze raking over my entire body, his chest heaving for breath as a new expression cast itself over his features.
I smirked with the assumption that, like others before him, he’d lost himself in me. My hand snaked down between my legs, pressing a finger there. Gasping, I said, “Like what you see?”
He didn’t react, his expression unchanging, that dark shade still a mystery.
I stopped, slowly pushing up from the bed to sit up, my hand reaching out to his bare thigh. “You okay?” I asked, swallowing my desperation away.
Wordlessly, his hand found mine and pulled it to his mouth, kissing the back of my palm softly. “I need a minute,” he said, the elastic band around my heart loosening somewhat.
“Is it…Do you feel…” I trailed off, a river of confidence and self-assurance running dry.
“I feel it too, Kit,” he confirmed.
From his tone, I knew exactly what he meant. How this thing between us had so quickly become everything. It was every moment we got to spend together. How precious it all was. How these days had been the best of my life.
The reminder of that deadline reared its head again. That even if I gave us a few days, it’s still only days. There were a number of hours we had to spend with each other before it all came to an end, and after that…what would be left?
I pushed up to meet him, my lips pressed against him, my hands on his jaw, my eyes closed as I committed it to memory. “Pretend with me,” I said, the lump in my throat impossible to ignore. I had to blink away tears before I continued, “Like we have all the time in the world.”
He swallowed, silently nodding in agreement as his hand rose to my chin, sliding along and pushing some of my free hair behind my ear. “Pretend we are each other’s forever.”
It nearly broke me, the gut-wrenching longing in his voice. I held it all back, shoving it down into the dark, hollow expanse inside of me, along with everything else.
Instead, I kissed him, and he instantly tangled up in me. A hand pushed back my hair, gripping the back of my head, as his lips pressed to mine and his fingers slid between my thighs, finding my core.
We fell back to the mattress, lost in each other, doing as we agreed. I teased his length through his briefs, eliciting a hiss of need from between his teeth. His head pushed back as I gripped him through the thin material, the tip already wet.
His fingers continued to press at my clit, finding a perfect rhythm against the bucking of my hips, the wild, frantic need that had simmered returning to a rolling boil.
I rolled to my knees, turning my attention to him as I pulled off the briefs and teased him with my mouth, the taste of him familiar.
His brown eyes watched as I ran my tongue flat up his long length, mesmerized as my mouth pulled at the tip, before I took him in between my lips and a symphony of desperate moans left him.
His head tilted back, his lips bucking for control. “Can I…” He struggled to get the words out as I sucked and lapped at his cock, every attempt a hiss between gritted teeth. “Can I use your mouth?”
In answer, I took him deeper, allowing him to fuck my mouth to his rhythm, giving into him: mind, body, and soul.
He swore again as he used me, his mouth open on a needy gasp. “You’re so good for me, London.”
I wanted him to be as rough as I could take. Needed him to push me right to the edge and take another step. My fingers gripped at his thick thigh, feeling the strong muscle underneath. I wanted this as much as I wanted him, to find his pleasure, to bear witness to it.
Jonah’s hand knotted in my hair, finding purchase as he grew confident and rough, controlling me as he needed. “Fuck,” he whispered, every tug of his fist travelling straight down my body to my needy cunt. I was ready for him, soaking the bedsheets beneath me.
He was breathless when his hand uncurled, his body almost shaking as if he had to hold himself back from coming.
I wiped at my mouth, cocky smirk undeniable. “Enjoy that?”
“You’re incredible, Kit.” He let out a heavy breath that seemed to relax his entire body. “I want to feel you around my cock.”
I didn’t need another word from him, finding a condom in the bedside cabinet. The last one in the box. Another unnecessary reminder that this was almost over.
I pushed it away as he rolled it over his cock.
Pretend, I reminded myself as I climbed on top, his hardness pressing against me. This is forever.
With no hesitation, I slid easily down his length, gasping at the fullness.
The stretch was a welcome ache, a pain that distracted me from the one clamped around my heart.
Jonah barely managed to hold it together: a hand gripping the bedsheets, his fingers gritted together, eyes rolled back in his skull.
When he looked at me again, my smirk returned. “You holding on there?”
“You make it difficult not to come,” he said, as if the words were strangling him.
In answer, I squeezed, rolling my hips forward, my own pleasure intoxicating. “I love being a challenge.”
“Baby, you’re no challenge.” He smiled, gasping as I ground forward, his cock buried deep inside. “You’re a blessing.”
His hand moved to my clit, giving me extra pleasure as my body moved against his, my movement low and deep. We worked together, my back arching backwards to change the angle. Every motion sent new sparks through my body, both of us creeping closer to the edge.
With Jonah, it was never a performance. He never made me feel like an object, a toy to be used. He never made me feel like a pretty thing that was only made for him; he accepted me as my own person with my own body, and I was sharing it with him, like he was sharing his own.
It was something new.
And I was losing it.
Pretend.
Jonah caught me by surprise, pushing himself up and twisting us around so my back was on the mattress.
“You were killing me,” he said, burying his head into my neck, kissing and nipping at my throat. “And I want to watch you come.”
With every movement of his body, I rolled my hips to meet his, my fingernails clinging to his back as he edged me closer and closer. I dug deeper, trying to hold onto him, like if I tried hard enough – kept him close enough – we’d never be apart.
“I want you to wreck me,” I said, begging even. “I need you to break me.”
Because, after all, that’s where we were heading. And at least if we went there, he’d still be with me.
Jonah sped up, hammering into me like he needed it too. “You take me so well, Kit,” he said. “Fall apart for me, baby. I wanna feel you.”
With another thrust, I did. I clenched around him, the pleasure overriding every thought in my brain, erasing the countdown, pushing reality away, and leaving me with him.
My sweaty body ached and shuddered against his, held perfectly in his arms. The heavy weight of his body above me was a welcome one, keeping me safe.
I knew it was the last time. That our days together had run out.
That there was a good chance I was in love with this man in a way that felt different.
It made me feel brand new, and shiny, and like I was the best version of myself around him.
Like if I could take him back to the real world with me, my life could change, could be exactly what I wanted.
But he wanted more, he wanted kids, and he deserved that life I couldn’t give to him. Not after last time.
So, I had to pocket this love, trap it, and be strong enough to let him go.
I could do it.
For him, I would do it.