Chapter 3 #3
He pulled out his phone and worked the screen.
“Let’s dance.” The first strains of one of her favorite songs, “Stand By Me”, came from the phone.
He set it on the table and she turned into his arms. She wouldn’t have guessed him to be a dancer.
Honestly, she wasn’t much of one herself, but held in his arms, mostly just swaying to the music, her heart tripped over into love.
Jonas held Cindy in his arms, dancing—if you could call it that—to the old song.
He was on the edge of peaceful happiness and needy anticipation.
He wanted the night to go on forever, but he wanted her to be his.
Wanted to be hers, so she would never question their place together.
Wanted to be inside of her and on top of her and underneath her and… well. He wanted her.
As the song neared the end, he pushed her out a little, gave her a bit of a spin. The next song started, and he waited a heartbeat to see her reaction, a little nervous about his gamble.
The distinctive first chords of Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get it On” cut into the room.
Little lines appeared in her forehead as the lyrics began, and then she began to laugh. And laugh. Until she was doubled-over with it.
How could he resist her? She was made for him. He scooped her up, holding tight as she was shaking with laughter. Her arms wrapped around him to hold on and she buried her face in his neck.
He picked up the phone and carried her to the bedroom.
There was little else in the small room besides a queen bed and a dresser with fresh flowers on top.
That was more than he needed. He tossed her on the bed so that she bounced, and turned off the phone, cutting poor Marvin off mid-lyric.
He set the phone on the dresser and advanced on the bed.
She watched him coming, and he liked seeing the anticipation on her face, the desire. But there was also a touch of nerves.
He could relate. Chances were very strong that they were about to be mated, and more than anything, he wanted to make her happy with the choice that had been made for them.
Intellectually, he knew they would both be happy. Hell, he already was.
Actually, now that it was coming down to it, what would he do if she turned out not to be his mate? Could he really be that attached to her already that the idea he was wrong about her being his mate could cause that stab to the gut?
“What are you thinking,” she asked.
He realized he’d been staring at her. He swallowed. “I want this to be right. For you. And I want you to be my mate. I’m going to be really, really pissed if you’re not.”
The pleased smile that blossomed across her face made his nerves worthwhile. She crooked a finger at him. “Come here. Let’s make it right.”
He put one hand on her ankle, dragged her a bit closer, and pulled off her shoe. Then the other. She sat up and grabbed the hem of her top.
“Wait,” he said. “Let me.”
She let go, took his offered hand and slid off the bed to stand in front of him.
He cupped her face and tasted her soft, inviting lips.
Her hands settled on his hips and her lips opened in welcome.
He kissed her, softly, slowly, moving one hand to the nape of her neck, the other sliding down to her lower back, pulling her in close.
Tight. When her hands began to roam his back, pulling him, fisting in his shirt, he broke the kiss and teased her jaw with his nose.
“You taste so sweet. So perfect,” he murmured in her ear.
“I want more,” she begged. She yanked at his shirt.
“Patience.”
“Why?”
He laughed. “I don’t know, seems like a good idea to me.”
“Maybe I disagree—”
She broke off with a gasp when he nipped the side of her neck, nibbled lightly down her shoulder.
Her whole body shivered, and he nudged her sweater out of the way, enjoying her sensitivity.
Her fingers were back to clasping at his shirt as he teased the curve of her shoulder with nips and licks and kisses.
“Jonas,” she panted.
“Cynthia,” he answered, not changing his pace but moving his hand to cup her ass and press her center more tightly to his dick.
Her head fell back with a little gasp when he sucked gently on the sensitive spot he’d found. Fuck, she tasted so good. Sweet and salty, eager and hot. He was going to bite her, right here, when the mating bond hit them.
And he knew it would. It had to. Because he wasn’t going to give her up.
Kissing the marked spot, he moved back, pulled her sweater up. She helped, laughing with him when their arms tangled and the sweater got wrapped around her head. Finally she was free, and he couldn’t resist her laughing mouth, went back for more.
She accepted his kiss, but her hands moved to his front and unclasped his buckle.
The leather slid out of the belt loops, and she moved on to the button of his jeans.
Breaking free of the kiss, he left her to the task and focused on the pretty lilac lace bra in front of him.
It cupped her breasts nicely, enticingly.
He traced the lace with one finger, ever so gently.
She shivered, but her fingers dove into his jeans and tested his length.
She didn’t have much room to work, though, so he was pretty confident he would win this round.
He shaped the lace cups with his palms, hefting the small weight of her breasts.
He thumbed her nipples through the lace, encouraging them to tight peaks.
His mouth watered. “Unhook your bra,” he told her, giving her breasts another squeeze.
She whimpered. “You do it, I’m busy here.
” Pulling her hand free of his pants, she tried to shove them down his hips.
He pushed against her, keeping the pants pinned.
Her growl of frustration made him smile.
He tickled the valley between her breasts with his nose, all the while giving little squeezes of his handful.
She gave up her efforts with his jeans and speared her fingers into his hair, trying to guide his mouth to her nipple.
“The bra,” he reminded her between licks and nips.
She growled again, but complied, reaching her arms behind her to work the clasp.
When the ends fell free, he let the pretty fabric fall and reshaped her breasts with his palms, then let her demanding hands guide him to her straining nipple.
He pulled it between his lips, sucked hard, while lightly pinching and pulling the other.
Her breath quickened and her fingers tightened in his hair.
She arched her back, offering more of herself.
He backed her against the bed, hitched her up and lay her back.
Giving her plump nipple a last lick, he went to work on the other.
“Oh, fuck, that’s so good,” she moaned. “I want you naked, though.” She tugged his hair. “Please, Jonas.”
He gave one lingering pull before moving back.
Watching her glazed, hungry expression was the best aphrodisiac he’d ever experienced.
He kicked off his shoes and shoved his pants and boxers down.
She licked her lips. He groaned and reached for her.
“You are so beautiful.” He ran his hands along her thighs, her hips, her waist. Straddled her and dropped down slowly until he was lying along her length, careful to hold his weight off her.
He slipped one arm underneath her and flipped.
Her gasp ended on a laugh as they came to a stop with her on top. She propped her hands on his chest and let the laugh fade away as they stared at each other.
He brought his hand to her face, cupped her cheek. Wasn’t sure if the tremble was on her side or his. Didn’t care. “Thank god I found you.”
She smiled, and he knew he would always remember the beauty of this moment.
“Make me yours, Jonas. I need you to be mine.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He held her hips as she moved her legs up, straddling him. Her hair flopped over her face when she looked down to study him, trace her fingers along his length. He didn’t push, didn’t urge her on, just moved her hair out of her face so he could watch as she fisted him.
She lifted up, came down over him slowly, one torturous inch at a time, a little swirl, and then she was seated. She braced her hand on his chest and finally looked back up at him.
Her eyes grew wide, which he totally understood—as he could feel her soul mating with his. It went from a tiny vibration to a full tingle before settling down into a sweet awareness.
“Wow,” she breathed.
“Yeah. Really wow.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb without breaking eye contact.
“You are so mine, now.”
Another tear. “Not as much as you’re mine.”
“Totally as much. But that works for me.”
“Yeah, that works.” She glanced down at where their bodies were joined. “I’m going to rock your world now.”
“Me first.” He didn’t give her a chance to react, just wrapped his arm around her and rolled again, landing on top of her. His mouth met hers, his hips pumping in time with his tongue. Her nails scratched at his back, her heels hooking around his legs, pulling him close, giving them both leverage.
She broke the kiss to cry out, and he took the opportunity to nuzzle her neck, find the sweet spot, and bite down.
Her scream was long, as was the orgasm that squeezed around him so tightly, it took everything he had not to let go. He wanted more.
He licked the bite mark, pulled her earlobe between his teeth, giving it a little nip.
Her lax legs twitched. He nibbled along her jaw, teased her lips until she gave him her tongue.
Then he began to move again. Her legs wrapped around him once more, his thrusts slow and easy until she began to moan again.
He resumed his earlier pace, snuck a hand down to rub her clit with his thumb, slow, deliberate circles that had a tiny little whine escaping her throat.