Chapter 13 Elizabeth
ELIZABETH
I can’t believe I’m doing this …
Never in a million years did I think that Jon would take me out on a public date, let alone invite me to sleep over at his penthouse. I instantly feel out of place. Everything, down to the elevator, is extravagant.
But with his lips on my body, it’s hard to focus on anything else. My breath quickens as he nibbles lightly down to my collarbone, and my head falls back while I dig my fingers into his shoulders.
My mind quickly takes me back to the first time we made love in the cabin. I’ve been craving him ever since that night, but now that it’s here, I can’t wait until he can fill that void I’ve been feeling ever since.
I feel the elevator lift us, and Jon presses me up against the wall, kissing my lips once more as his hands cup my face gently. A loud ding pulls him away from me, and the doors slide open, revealing a hallway with a single door on either side.
“Shall we continue this inside?” he asks as we step off the elevator.
With the whirlwind of the date mixed with old emotions from the first time we spent the night together, I grab him and shove him against the wall as I kiss him. Our tongues are wild as they dance in his mouth against one another, and he grunts under his breath.
My fingers find his jacket button and undo it, allowing his jacket to open enough for me to start unbuttoning his white shirt. My hands find his bare chest, and I moan as he reaches under my sweater dress and cups my ass tightly.
We slowly shift down to his door, and he taps something against a black box located above the knob and it clicks. He wastes no time quickly lifting me and shoving us through the front door of his penthouse.
Once inside, he sets me down on the counter of his kitchen, our lips never separating until he undoes my black belt, grabs my dress, and pulls it over my head. It drops to the floor, and I do the same with his shirt once he slides off his jacket.
I decided to wear a more colorful option of lingerie tonight, not knowing that this would be the outcome of our first date. He finds my lips again as his hand unclasps my bright pink bra and tosses it on the ground.
His fingers lightly make their way up my thighs and slide my panties to the side before dipping two fingers inside of me. I gasp and grip his naked shoulders as he practically holds me off the edge of the counter.
“Someone missed me,” he whispers as his fingers curl, bouncing directly onto my sweet spot. With his hips, he pushes my legs further apart as his thumb rubs lightly against my clit while the other two continue to curl up.
My head falls forward, pressing against his forehead, and I bite my bottom lip gently. His fingers are magic.
With the foreplay in the hallway, I’m already close to bursting. My hips thrust forward against his movements as my hand reaches out and massages his erection through his pants. I need him … I need to fill that void he left from the last time we had sex.
“Not yet,” he directs. “I want to feel you gush first.” Soft whimpers drip off my lips as he quickens his speed.
Suddenly, my toes curl and I look him in the eyes, remembering he likes to see me come. One last cry, and I’m squirming on his fingers. He quickly removes his fingers and leans down. His tongue runs up and down my slit, lapping up his work.
Panting, my head falls back as he stands back up to his height.
With the franticness of our movements, I hadn’t noticed that I was almost fully naked in his kitchen with a large window overlooking the city. We are high enough that people can’t recognize us, but they will still get a show.
Normally, this would deter me quickly, but not this time. It’s as if he brings this completely wild side out of me. Smiling, I get an idea. Pulling from his tight grip on my hips, I jump down to my feet and pull his pants down. I want him to take me, but not here.
Nodding my head toward the window, his eyes light up in surprise, and once his pants are completely off, he grabs me, lifting me as he carries me to the window. I gasp as the cool glass touches my back and bottom.
I’ve never felt this free before. I want people to see how much we enjoy each other.
My head falls back against the glass as he pulls my thong aside and enters me with his entire length. Using the window as leverage, he thrusts up and down quickly, as if he hadn’t seen me in months. The rush must be taking over his senses as he dips down and sucks on my neck.
“God, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he grunts, shoving himself harder inside of me, and I whimper, gripping my nails into the skin on his back.
While this time is a little more rushed and frantic, it feels just as good as our first night together.
“Jon,” I moan, and he groans at the sound of his name dripping off my lips. There’s still passion, he is still tender, but the moment we connect like this, he becomes a whole different man. A man who craves my every touch, my every whimper of pleasure.
I just wish he knew how much I crave him too.
His breathing is now rapid as his eyes close.
“No,” I say, pulling his attention back to me.
“Look at me when you finish.” He grins mischievously as I use his own words against him.
With one hand, he still holds onto me, but the other hand slams against the window, and pleasure washes over his face.
“Fuck,” he groans and I can feel him pulsating inside me, filling me up as he finishes. Once he catches his breath, he lowers me to my feet and kisses me. “God, where have you been all my life?”
Giggling, I walk over and grab his white button-down and slip into it. I leave the buttons undone, exposing my nude body as I slowly walk to the living room. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here now,” I respond, but don’t turn around.
I’ve been curious how such a well-put-together man like Jon lives outside of work. Running my fingers along the edge of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, I notice a few figurines that don’t look like anything I’ve ever seen before.
“Those are from Marrakesh, a beautiful town in Africa. It’s an elephant. My father traveled the continent when I was just a baby. He brought these back for me and I’ve had them ever since,” Jon reveals as he wraps his arms around me from behind. I can feel his warmth through the shirt.
I carefully pick one up. It’s hand carved entirely of wood and has markings down the legs and trunk. “It’s beautiful,” I comment as I set it back down on the shelf. Taking a few steps forward, I stop at a gold-framed photograph with a man, a tall woman, and a young boy.
“Who is that?” My voice is low as I inspect it further. They are all standing outdoors at what appears to be a horse ranch. They look happy.
He stalls for a moment, then sighs. “Those are my parents, and that little guy is me.” There’s an uncomfortableness to his tone as he speaks.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” I don’t know much about him, let alone his family. Hitting a nerve was not my intention.
“No, it’s okay. My mother ran off when I was young, not long after this was taken at my uncle’s horse farm. My father raised me by himself, but he died a few years ago.” He looks at the picture but then turns his attention back to me. “It’s all in the past. It’s late, why don’t we get some rest?”
Nodding, I smile half-heartedly and follow him into the bedroom. It’s evident that there’s this deeper, sensitive side to Jon that he likes to keep hidden, but I will never push him to open up, especially when it hurts him to speak about it.
As we lay in bed, I face the window, watching the beautiful snow falling above the city. Jon wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him before nuzzling his face in my neck.
“I wish this never had to end,” he whispers against my skin.
The words should melt me. They should make me curl into him and close my eyes. Instead, something sharp twists in my chest. My stomach tightens, my breath stalls.
Because what if he doesn’t mean it? What if this is just pillow talk, a line he’s used before? What if I’m only here until I’ve served my purpose?
Heat creeps up my throat, not the good kind. My mind spins. He promoted me, gave me this new role, and suddenly I’m in his bed. Is that how it looks from the outside? Is this a pattern for him—women drawn into his orbit, used up, quietly replaced when the shine wears off?
Images flash—Sherry’s glare at the office, the whispered gossip from the assistants, my father dismissing me at the dinner table because my brother was the only child worth bragging about. Being overlooked, discarded, replaced. Always replaceable.
No. I bite down on the thought. He’s not like that. I’ve seen it in his eyes, the way he touches me, listens to me. Haven’t I?
But the fear doesn’t let go. It lodges in my ribs, a cold, tight ache even as his lips brush my neck again.
“Well,” I force out, voice softer than I intend, “it doesn’t have to.”
He hums, satisfied, resting back on his pillow like the conversation is settled. His arm is heavy around me, anchoring me to him.
But my mind won’t quit whispering: Why would it end? Unless he decides it should.