13. Jonah #2
“You’re not disappearing,” I tell her. “You’re finding yourself.”
She looks away, but I see the way her mouth trembles.
We’re silent for a while after that. I don’t know if she’s realized it, but she’s moved closer to me. All it would take is for me to tilt my body a little and she'd be pressed into my side. Before I can make a move, she speaks again.
“Do you think it’s selfish to want more?”
“No.” I don’t hesitate. “Wanting isn’t selfish. It’s human.”
“It feels selfish to want all this. I love the quiet here. There’s a peace I’ve never known and I don’t want to give it up. I…I want Finn. And I want Boone. And I want you.”
She doesn’t look at me when she says it. Her voice is soft, nearly swallowed by the wind, but I hear every word.
She wants us.
All of us.
My heart kicks hard behind my ribs.
I wait for guilt to follow, for shame to creep in and tell me I shouldn’t want the same thing. But it never comes.
So, I act. I bridge the space between us and I reach for her.
My hand cups her face, thumb brushing the curve of her cheek. Her skin is warm beneath my palm, and softer than I even imagined. I tilt her head toward me, giving her every chance to pull away.
Her breath hitches, and I feel the ripple of it through my chest. Her lips part slightly and she watches me with those wide, uncertain eyes.
Not kissing her might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
I want her more than I’ve let myself want anything in a long time. I want to know the sound she makes when she comes apart in my hands. I want her pressed against me, whispering my name. I want to give her everything she’s never had.
But I need her to hear me first.
I keep my thumb at her cheekbone and hold her gaze as I speak. “You don’t have to apologize for wanting. And you sure as hell don’t have to be afraid of it.”
She swallows hard. “Even if I don’t know what happens next?”
“Especially then,” I say.
Her lashes lower for a second, and when they lift again, there’s something new in her expression. Something raw and hopeful.
She leans in slowly, her forehead resting against mine. My hand drifts to the back of her neck, holding her there.
“You shouldn’t be afraid to take what you want,” I whisper, saying this to her almost as much as I’m saying it to myself.
She breathes me in, eyes half-closed, and it’s her that moves first—but just barely. A brush of her mouth to mine, the faintest press that burns hotter than anything I’ve ever known. My fingers tighten against the nape of her neck. I tilt my head and kiss her back.
Her lips part with a quiet sigh. She tastes like tea and honey. So sweet and it takes everything in me to not drag her closer.
My free hand fists in her sweatshirt. She shifts toward me without thinking, every part of her softening as our mouths move together.
The kiss builds in pieces.
Her fingers curl in the fabric of my shirt as mine slide beneath her sweatshirt, brushing the bare skin of her lower back. She shivers.
She pulls back first, breath uneven, eyes wide and searching. “That was…”
“I know.”
My hand stays at her waist, just above the band of her pants. I search her eyes for my next move. I want more, desperately, but I need to know she’s right there with me.
I think I find it, so I reach for her hand, curling my fingers around hers, and tug gently. Her hesitation lasts only a second before she nods and lets me lead her back through the door.
The hallway is quiet. Finn’s room is dark. When we reach her door, I pause. One more chance for her to change her mind. Her fingers tighten around mine instead.
The blanket on the bed is folded back neatly. There’s a book on the nightstand, spine cracked in the middle. It smells like her in here. She stands in the center of it all, waiting.
I let the door fall closed behind me, lock it and cross to her. I want her with a kind of ache I haven’t felt in years.
When I reach her, I lift my hand to her face. She moves into my touch instinctively. “You okay?”
“I’ve never done this before.”
I freeze. Her eyes flick up to mine, searching for judgment.
“I mean, with Finn…we’ve…tried things. But not everything. Not, um...”
I lean in, mouth brushing her temple. “Then we go slow. As slow as you want. You set the pace. You stop me if anything feels wrong.”
She nods again, as I pull her into me.
The kiss is different this time. There’s no hesitation. Just heat, pulling us under. I slide my hands to the hem of the sweatshirt, looking to her for permission. She answers by lifting her arms.
I take my time. I want to savor every damn second of this.
The sweatshirt falls away, baring her to the glow of the bedside lamp. She doesn’t hide. Her breath is uneven, but she doesn’t shy away.
“You’re so beautiful,” I say.
She doesn’t answer with words. Just reaches for me, hands sliding under the fabric of my shirt, fingers brushing the skin of my stomach. Her hands tremble. I lift my shirt over my head and toss it to the side, then take her hand and press it flat to my chest.
“Take what you want, baby. I’m yours.”
Her mouth opens like she wants to respond, but nothing comes out. She’s flushed now, heat crawling from her chest to the curve of her neck. I back her toward the bed, and she follows my movement. When her legs touch the edge of the mattress, she looks up at me.
The trust in her eyes is everything.
I ease her down, bracing one arm beside her. Her legs shift to make space for me, and I settle between them.
The kiss that follows is softer. Her hands slip around my back, pulling me in. I trail kisses from her mouth to her throat, then lower until she’s gasping softly, her fingers tangled in the sheets.
I press my mouth to the curve of her throat—right over the flutter of her pulse. It’s fast. So is mine. I breathe her in slowly before lifting my head.
“Tell me if you want to stop,” I murmur, brushing her hair back from her face. “Anytime. I mean that.”
Her eyes meet mine. “I don’t want to stop.”
God help me. I nod, just once, and let my hands find the edge of her bra. “Can I?”
She gives the faintest nod, chest rising and falling beneath the thin lace. I don’t rush. I unhook it slowly, watching every breath she takes as I reveal more of her inch by inch. I toss it to the floor like it’s never going back on.
Her skin is flushed, her breasts bare, and for a second, all I can do is look at her. She shifts, uncomfortable, about to cover herself—but I catch her hands before she can.
“Don’t hide from me,” I say, voice low. “You’re beautiful, Ani. Every inch of you.”
Her breath stutters.
I press a kiss between her breasts, one to the soft underside of each, then trail my hands down the curve of her waist. Her shorts and panties are next, and I hook my thumbs into them, pausing.
“Okay?”
She nods again. “Yes.”
I ease them down slowly. When I finally slide them off, revealing her sweet pussy, I swallow hard and sit back on my heels just to look.
I stand, and lower myself over her on the bed. But I have to pause again. She’s laid out beneath me like a secret I’ve been aching to uncover, and I don’t deserve this moment.
I lower my mouth to her stomach, then trail lower. I kiss her thighs, the insides of her knees, every soft, trembling part of her until she’s gasping again—hips shifting, fingers reaching for me.
“Jonah—”
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, settling between her legs. “I just want to show you how this can feel.”
When I finally put my mouth on her, she moans. Her hips buck, but I hold her steady with one arm over her waist, the other splayed across her thigh. I take her apart slowly, until she’s panting, until her body arches and tenses and falls apart.
When she comes, she says my name and I almost completely fall apart.
My lips are back on hers in the next breath and I let her taste her sweet juices.
“You okay?”
She nods, breathless. “More. Please.”
I reach for my wallet, but she stops me with a hand on my chest. Her voice is soft but sure.
“I want to feel you.”
I suck in a breath, steady myself, and kiss her again before rolling on the condom and settling between her thighs.
“You will, baby. I’ll go slow. You tell me everything you feel. Everything you want. This is all yours, Ani.”
She wraps her arms around me, legs parting in invitation. “Then I want all of it.”
And God help me, I give her everything.
I keep one hand on her cheek and reach between us with the other, guiding myself to her entrance.
“Breathe for me,” I murmur against her lips. “Nice and slow.”
She nods, but I can feel the tremble in her thighs. I run my nose along her cheek, grounding her as I start to push in—just the tip, just enough to feel that first impossibly tight resistance.
She gasps, fingers digging into my back.
“Shh, I’ve got you.” I press a kiss to her temple. “We’ll go slow. You’re doing so good.”
I ease in another inch, then pause, letting her adjust. Her walls clench hard around me, and I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to bury myself fully. She’s tight, untouched, and so goddamn warm.
Her breath hitches. “It—hurts a little.”
“I know, baby.” I kiss her throat, her shoulder. “It’s just your body learning me. You tell me if it gets too much.”
She shifts her hips the tiniest bit, and I take it as permission to go deeper—slowly, steadily, until I’m fully inside her.
She’s panting beneath me, flushed and wide-eyed and perfect.
“You’re inside me,” she whispers.
I nod, brushing my knuckles over her cheek. “Yeah, baby. You’ve got me.”
I start to move—just a shallow roll of my hips, more grind than thrust. Her breath catches again, but this time, it’s not pain I hear—it’s need. Her body starts to respond, her hands sliding up my back, nails dragging softly over my skin as her hips rise to meet mine.
“Jonah…” Her voice breaks on the word.
“I’m here,” I rasp, driving in a little deeper now. “I’ve got you.”
She whimpers when I hit that sweet spot. I do it again and again, building a rhythm meant to wreck her gently. I keep my mouth on her skin the whole time—her jaw, her throat, the swell of her breast—letting her feel me in every way I can.
Her legs wrap around my waist. Her hips lift to meet each slow, grinding thrust. I can feel her starting to unravel again—tightening around me, her fingers clutching at my shoulders like I’m the only thing keeping her grounded.
“Come for me,” I whisper, voice wrecked. “I want to feel it.”
She does, her whole body trembling beneath me. The way she clenches around me nearly undoes me.
“I’m not gonna last,” I growl, forehead pressed to hers.
“Yes,” she gasps. “Please.”
I slam into her harder now, chasing that edge, letting the control slip.
My hand slides to her throat. Her eyes flutter open, wild and dark and so fucking trusting.
That’s what tips me over.
I come with a groan, deep inside her, body shaking as I breathe her in.
Neither of us speaks.
I just hold her.
Because even with my cock still pulsing and my body wrecked, I know?—
This was never just sex. Not with her.
The room is still when I wake. Morning light hasn’t yet reached the windows, but I can tell it’s coming. I ease out of bed carefully, not wanting to disturb her. Ani’s curled toward my side of the mattress, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, the other pressed near where my body had been.
I don’t want her to wake alone, but I don’t want to disturb her either. And it’s my turn to cook. I press a kiss to her temple, pull the blanket higher over her shoulder, and slip quietly into the hallway.
Finn’s already in the kitchen. His arms are crossed. He looks rough. But there’s something else too. A strange calm that shows in his expression.
I don’t speak right away. I’m not sure what to say.
“She’s still asleep,” I say finally.
He nods without looking at me. “You stayed.”
“I did,” I say. “She wanted me to.”
Another nod. His shoulders drop a fraction. He drags a hand through his hair, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Good.”
I study him, unsure how he means that.
“Are you alright with that?” I ask.
He meets my eyes now, gaze steady, hands by his sides. “No,” he says. “But it’s not about that.” He shifts his weight, crossing his arms again.
“What exactly is going on between you two? I mean, I thought…”
He huffs. “I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. I think I fell for her the moment I laid eyes on her. But, she’s not ready for that yet. And she deserves to have everything she wants.”
Just then, Boone comes into the kitchen. His jaw is set tight, arms crossed even tighter. He watches me for a long second, then turns and disappears into the living room.
He’s part of this too. And no matter what mask he puts on, I know what he’s thinking.