Chapter 15 #2
Jonah devoured me, but he also savored me.
He licked through my slit and prodded inside, and when I squirmed, he did it again.
I hated that he’d abandoned my clit but the sensation of him filling me was just as addicting.
Then he was back to my nub, circling and teasing.
I could tell he was learning—what I liked best, what made my left leg shake, what made me gasp and moan.
Then he settled in and used all his newfound knowledge to drive me to the brink and back.
“You’re going to kill me, mountain man.”
The rumble reverberated between my legs and he attacked my clit until I soared to my peak. And then he backed off.
I growled and threaded my fingers through his hair. “You’re playing.”
He stopped. “I want this to last forever because I won’t. Not when it comes to you.”
He made me feel so damn special. The pull that had been between us since we’d been in high school was stronger than ever. For years, each of us had ignored the attraction, but this tie was so much more.
I rolled my hips against his face, still tugging at his head. I needed to come. It didn’t matter that hours ago I’d climaxed against him. The pressure built inside me until I swore I hadn’t had a real orgasm in my entire life.
“Jonah,” I whined.
“Hang on, sunshine. I need this to be good.”
The energy swelled bigger, larger. I hung on a precipice. But I finally gave in. I rocked with the rhythm of his tongue, panting, but no longer demanding. I cherished the moment between us. If my heart stopped from the powerful explosion building within me, so be it.
As if he sensed my total capitulation, he covered my clit with his mouth and sucked, flicking the damn thing with his tongue.
When I detonated, stars blasted behind my eyes. I arched my back so completely off the bed, I thought I was levitating, but Jonah grounded me.
“Jonah!” His name bounced off the walls. The storm outside was cold, but the maelstrom inside was blistering hot and seared away future worries. It was just me and Jonah and that talented mouth of his.
I shook, unconcerned about how I looked or sounded. My cries drowned out the wind. When I sagged into the mattress, depleted, he released me, easing my legs down and kissing his way up my belly.
I barely had the energy to lift my head. “I wasn’t sure I’d survive.”
“I could do that all goddamn night.”
“I definitely wouldn’t make it.” But at the same time, I’d like to find out. A large part of me knew that he’d make sure I was okay. He’d give me death by ecstasy but he’d also make sure not one part of me was harmed or hurting, just like he’d done since he’d rescued me from my wedding.
My legs bracketed his big body. He was half over me, and he sucked one of my hard nipples into his mouth. I groaned as warmth started infusing my core.
I couldn’t possibly be ready to go again.
“Jonah.”
He lifted his head, my nipple popping out of his mouth. His gaze was dark and hot and intent, but also extremely satisfied. The man didn’t say much, but when someone knew what to look for, he said a lot with his expressions.
“I need you inside me.”
Another low growl. Another light kiss, this time between my breasts. “Are you on anything?”
“I had my IUD removed last week.”
He pushed away. “Wait here.”
He went to the bathroom, his halting gait becoming so achingly familiar I didn’t realize how much I missed it when he closed himself up in his shop. He didn’t bother with the light, but he disappeared behind the door, not closing it.
I tipped my legs together and propped myself on my elbows. What was he doing?
When he appeared again, his erection fought against his sweats, and he had a string of little packets in his hand.
“You keep your condoms up here?” I’d raided the little closet in that bathroom for toothpaste, toothbrushes, and razors. I would’ve noticed condoms.
He tossed them on the comforter when he reached the edge of the bed. “I want to make damn sure the trouble is worth forgoing my hand.”
He made himself trek up and down the stairs for condoms? A little discomfort before he could find pleasure with someone else. Didn’t he think he deserved companionship?
I’d have to show him differently. I rolled up and slid to the edge of the mattress. This comforter had a date with the washing machine—and maybe I could tempt Jonah into joining me for laundry time again. “I want to undress you.”
He scoffed and tugged the collar of his sweater.
“Don’t you dare.” I pushed his hands away as I rose. When I slipped my hands under the garment, I made sure to splay my fingers across his hard abdomen. His muscles tensed under my touch.
I pushed the sweater over his head and looked my fill. “Wow.” I trailed my fingers over his defined pecs. A few small scars were visible under the dark hair on his chest that trailed down to disappear under his sweats. “You’re so hard.”
“Jesus, Summer. If you don’t quit looking at me like that, I’m not going to make it through you taking off my pants.”
“But you have, like, a really nice body.” The best I’d seen. Chiseled from marble. Yet his skin was soft and warm. “What do you do in that shop all day?”
“Make furniture.” He stood still for me as I continued to dance my fingers across his body. He peered at me. “You really like what you see?”
I laughed. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”
A scowl indented his brow. “My left arm is smaller than my right.”
I squinted. “Maybe a little.”
“You haven’t gotten to my legs.”
“I’ve already seen them.” I didn’t take my time with his pants. He had insecurities, and I wanted to obliterate them like he had with me minutes ago. I shoved them down and his thick cock bobbed in front of my face.
I bent, ignoring how exposed I was, and helped him step out. Then I stood back, hands on my hips. I was naked, but it was more important to me to make him feel as comfortable with himself as possible.
He was rigid under my perusal. I took my time, letting my interest infuse my face.
The warmth in my belly flared hotter, kindling a small inferno.
Just from seeing him. He was tall and strong.
Yes, he had scars. His left thigh had puckered and jagged scars, worse than the ones on his face.
A not-so-small chunk of flesh had been excised at some point in his recovery from above his knee and his calf wasn’t the same shape or size as his other one.
His left hip was also smaller, like it couldn’t build the muscle his other hip could.
The differences between his right and left sides weren’t as noticeable in his torso, but the flares of scarring around his shoulder looked more like nasty stretch marks.
Years had gone by since the accident, but the trauma his body had gone through told the tale.
Still, if he thought he was repulsive in any way, he needed to borrow my hormones and have a look for himself. He could feel the strength of the throb between my legs. “You’re so hot.”
His eyes narrowed, his expression dubious.
I dragged a finger from his collarbone down his sternum, over his stomach, and right to the tip of his very hard cock. “I like everything I see. I always have.”
I rubbed my finger across the wet slit of his erection, spreading his precum around. He jerked under my touch.
“You’re going to make me blush,” he finally said.
I laughed and wrapped my hand around his length. I gave him a couple of good tugs.
Then I dropped to my knees.
“Jesus. Summer.” He stuffed a hand through his hair, his biceps bulging. “What are you doing—”
I took him in my mouth, holding on to his stunned gaze. His reaction told me enough. He didn’t get blow jobs. I didn’t know if it was because he was self-conscious or if the women he was with weren’t interested, but that changed now.
I swirled my tongue up and down his length, giving an appreciative hum to punctuate that I liked doing this.
“Fuck,” he gritted out. The tendons in his neck were straining and he was tilted back, like he was trying to keep his balance.
Oh, crap— Was he off-balance?
I gripped his thighs, but his stance was solid. He wasn’t shaking or quivering. He was leaning back like he was afraid to miss the show. Like I was blowing someone else and he was a Peeping Tom.
His disbelief was a heady experience. Blow jobs had been expected by a couple of my exes, and they’d never been my favorite part of sex.
But that was changing. I had Jonah’s rapt attention, but the thing was—I did anyway.
I knew that he kept tabs on everything I was doing.
He’d left me clothing when I was asleep on the couch.
He’d chased me inside when he’d thought it was too stormy out.
He’d come to my wedding to torture himself when there’d never been anything but distant attraction between us.
I cupped his balls as I worked him, rolling them over my palm.
A heavy groan left him. I would’ve smiled but I was enjoying the pure power of destroying him with nothing but my mouth.
His muscles vibrated under my touch and he alternated between stroking his hands down my hair, caressing my cheek, and shoving them in his hair.
“Fuck, Summer. Seeing you like that does me in.”
I caught his gaze again. His jaw was granite, but I liked the reason this time. His hips would jerk, just a little, like it was taking all his effort not to buck into my mouth and choke me.
He cupped my chin and pulled out of my mouth, my lips releasing with a wet, sloppy sound. His pupils dilated, his gaze focused on my mouth. “Get up and bend over.”
I rose, and by the time I was fully upright, he had a condom ripped open and was rolling it on. I was about to turn when he caught me and pressed his mouth to mine. His hair spilled forward, tickling my face. I twined my fingers through the strands.
He untangled my hand and kissed each of my wrists. The smallest things he did made me feel more precious than any time in the past.