Chapter 38 The Conservatory #2
“Thank you, Professor.”
I order him to take off my heels, and I sit in his armchair while he rubs and kisses my pinched feet.
When the ache abates and a new one has formed between my thighs, I order him to remove my dress.
Sweeping my hair to one side, he takes his time unfastening me, stealing long whiffs from the crook of my neck.
“You always smell like vanilla and lavender.”
When the dress falls away, I’m left in high-cut lace panties and a matching strapless bra. Delicate and feminine, it’s the kind of set that can transform a person.
Jonah plays with the strap, his finger sliding over and under. “You’re so pretty it hurts,” he murmurs.
I relax against his chest, and a stiff length presses into my lower back.
I move his hands to my breasts, and his warm mouth latches onto the column of my neck.
Large hands roam from my chest to belly, and I revel in his touch.
There’s no doubt in my mind that this man loves every inch of my body—every stretch mark, every freckle, every dimple of cellulite is beautiful to him, just as they are to me.
He licks my jaw and I order him to undress for me. I sit in the middle of his made bed—dark and masculine colors like the rest of his room. A comforting sense washes over me, like I belong perched on his covers.
Jonah loosens his bow tie, and realization dawns that he probably tied it himself. That thought doesn’t sit right with me—I should be the one tying his ties and telling him how good he looks.
He slowly unbuttons his shirt, the fabric whispering against the silence of the room.
Each unfastened button builds a bit of tension, a subtle ratcheting of desire.
The first one at his collar is a bit stubborn, and requires a good tug.
The second, a little easier, reveals a flushed Adam’s apple.
As he works his way down, the shirt falls open, exposing the landscape of his chest, the faint tracery of veins and muscles, the soft indentation of his ribs.
He pauses, his fingers lingering on the last button, a moment of hesitation before the final release.
“You’re so handsome, Jonah.” Even in the low-lit room, I can see color spread into his cheeks. When he’s standing in nothing but his black boxer briefs, he waits for the dip of my chin before he slides them off. His cock stands like him—proud and eager.
“Take my panties off and kiss your way from my toes to my cunt.”
His knee propped on the bed, he slides off my panties with a bottom lip tucked beneath his teeth. “Thank you,” he whispers. He presses open-mouth kisses to every toe, and pleasure electrifies my blood as he slowly works his way up to my inner knees.
I’m already on edge when his breath ghosts over my labia, and he pushes the bridge of his nose through my seam. A warm tongue is next, followed by his gaze flicking up to meet mine.
I fist a hand in his hair. “Just like that. Yes. Get it wet for me.”
Thumbs part my sex, and he darts for my clit—licking, sucking, humming until my climax explodes, and I’m forcefully humping his face.
“Fuck, that’s so good. Unghhhh. Don’t stop.
” Like a leech, his mouth remains latched, and then he adds fingers—pumping into my pussy fast and rough.
I moan profanity and prayers, and I give praise with abandon, as my sustained orgasm plows through.
When I can’t take it anymore, I push him off and stare at the way his face glistens like icing. I pull him down until all that hard muscle is on top of me and I can taste myself on his lips. “Fuck me,” I breathe, then wrap my legs around his narrow waist. “Fuck me right here—just like this.”
The wide crown of his cock has already found its target, and I buck my hips to make the point abundantly clear.
“I’m allowed to?” he pants.
“I’m telling you. I need to feel you like this.”
Broad arms bracket my head, and he suddenly stops kissing me to read my face. It’s only for a couple of seconds, then his expression softens. “Thank you for trusting me.”
They’re not the words I thought he’d say; they’re the words I didn’t know I needed to hear.
Validation that he understands the significance of allowing him on top of me—a man, someone bigger and stronger, who could easily overpower me.
I’m not in the safety of my own home, and I’m completely vulnerable.
And Jonah understands.
“I’ll do anything you want, Renée.”
I cup underneath his jaw with both hands and kiss him deeply while urging him into my body. “Who’s in charge?”
He sinks a couple of inches and his forehead falls against mine. “You are.”
I moan when he slides all the way in. This man has a perfect dick—not too big, not too small—it’s that thick Goldilocks cock—and it’s all mine.
He moves inside me with a deep, slow rhythm until everything feels slick and our lips throb from kissing. His forearms stay planted next to my head until I give him the green light to touch my breasts. He gropes them, and kisses the flesh spilling over my bra.
“Gorgeous,” he growls, feasting on them the way he feasts between my legs, and sending fresh waves of lust crashing over me.
“I love you, Jonah.”
Then, his mouth is back on mine. “I love you too.”
“Then fuck me hard. Show me how aggressive your love really is.”
He groans like giving him this permission is more erotic than the penetrative sex we’re currently having.
Jonah sits on his heels and grips my hips—his thumbs sliding in that cozy little spot where my hips and tummy crease.
But there’s nothing cozy about the way he slams into me, or the fire burning in his eyes as he watches himself fuck my swollen pussy.
He’s thrusting so hard, I have to reach for the headboard and lock my arms to keep from sliding up the bed.
Jesus, this man can fuck.
When he adds a thumb to rub my hard little bundle of nerves, my eyes roll back. “Yesss,” I moan.
“You like that?” he asks, voice shaking, but he knows the answer.
“Yes,” I swallow. “Talk to me.”
“Should I tell you how sexy you are? Writhing here... taking me,” he grunts. “Squeezing my cock with that tight pussy, and your fuckin’ tits bouncing every time I slam into you.”
My breathing is hard, and I nod.
“I love how hard you make me work for it,” he says. “Never stop.”
“Jonah! Jonah, I’m almost there. Put your hand here,” I instruct, and with his other hand, he presses his palm to my mons. With the added pressure, his cock easily rubs against my G-spot, and I shatter seconds later.
Pleasure rockets through my body, every nerve ending is alight with my orgasm. The soles of my feet are scorching hot—something I haven’t felt from an orgasm in years—and there’s a mind-numbing fullness inside my ears.
He curses at the vise grip my cunt has on him. “Yes baby,” he groans. “All over me. God, you’re making such a beautiful mess. Use me, use me, use me. Yeeees, yes that’s it, thank you.”
All at once, he maneuvers my legs until my feet are above his shoulders.
He holds onto my thighs and lets himself have free rein with wet, slapping cracks echoing through his room.
Sweat beads on his skin, and loose hair falls into his face.
And I love seeing him like this—mindless and animalistic—all because I said he could be.
Jonah leans forward, bending me in half. His palms slide under my shoulders, and he holds me in place so he can fuck harder, and—oh my God—the pounding this man can give is next level. His core strength is out of this world.
“Can I come? P–please,” he whimpers, and his change in tone makes me smile.
“You’ve been such a good boy for Mommy.”
His eyes round and slam shut and his thrusting stalls, like he’s no longer in control of his body. “Ffffffuuuuuuck,” he shouts, releasing himself inside me.
Note to self: he likes when I call myself that.
“Yes, Jonah! Fill my pussy until it’s dripping with you.”
I love how wounded he looks when he comes.
After a couple more thrusts, he finally inhales, and everything relaxes between us. My legs fall and bend at his sides. But when he comes in for a post-O kiss, I wrap my arms around him and gator-roll him to his back.
“Whoa—”
“I’m not done with you.”
Jonah’s losing his faculties, though. “But I already... Oh, oh my—shit.”
“I know it’s intense, puppy, but you can do it. Just lie here and let me breed you.”
The mix of confusion and overstimulating pleasure battles on his face, and it’s so, so satisfying to watch—almost as satisfying as the moment I take off my bra.
His eyes round as he gets his first view of my bare chest—the chest I’ve never shown another submissive. What I did with those people was nothing like what I have with Jonah.
He gets all of me.
“My God, Renée,” he huffs in disbelief. “They’re beautiful.”
“Touch them.” I plant a hand on his chest and rock my hips against him.
I let him grope and fondle and pinch to his heart’s content.
His spent cock is still hard and buried inside me, and I only have little time before it goes soft.
I grind against his pelvis, seeking that perfect spot, and— “There!” I cry. “Right there, don’t move.”
And because he’s such a good boy, he listens and accepts his fate with my tits in his hands. I add my fingers to my clit and a minute later I’m seeing stars. My third orgasm wipes my vision, and the entire lower half of my body contracts.
I can’t see him, but the sound of Jonah’s labored breathing brings a smile to my face. Sated and delirious, I fall into him and roll to the side, where giggles turn into delicate petting and tender kisses.
I push back his fly-aways. “How do you feel, baby?”
“Rode hard and put away wet.” High off the endorphins, we laugh until we cry, and then we’re catching our breath again. “No, I feel amazing. I didn’t know what to expect without your toy bag.”
I narrow my eyes and whisper, “I hope you never know what to expect from me.”