Chapter Seven #2
"But you weren't. You got there." Holly pulled back enough to look at him. "I'm alive because of you."
"You shouldn't have to live like this. Running, hiding, watching people die—"
"I know. But this is temporary. The threat won't last forever."
Jonah's laugh was bitter. "And what happens when it's over? You go back to your life, try to forget you ever met the man who killed people in front of you?"
"Is that what you think?" Holly stared at him. "That I'm going to run away from you when this is done?"
"You should."
"Well, I'm not." She stepped closer, her hands fisting in his blood-stained shirt. "I love you. That doesn't change because you did what you had to do to keep us alive."
Jonah's expression crumbled. "Holly—"
"I love you," she repeated, meaning it with everything she had. "The man who brought me coffee, the man who respected my choices, the man who quit his job because I said no. That's who you are. Not just the violence."
"The violence is part of me."
"I know. And I love you anyway."
***
HE KISSED HER. SLOW and deep, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. Holly's hands slid under his shirt, her fingers tracing the scars on his back. The marks of violence that had defined his life until now.
Jonah pulled back long enough to strip off his shirt. Holly's gaze traveled over his chest, taking in every scar, every imperfection. Instead of revulsion, he saw acceptance. Maybe even appreciation.
"Your turn," he said.
Holly sat up, pulling her shirt over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra. Pale skin dusted with freckles. Small, perfect breasts with pink nipples that tightened under his gaze.
"You're staring," Holly said, but she was smiling.
"Can you blame me?"
She reached for the button of her jeans. Jonah stopped her, covering her hands with his.
"Let me."
He undressed her slowly, reverent. This wasn't about dominance or desperation. This was about worship. About memorizing every inch of her skin. The curve of her hip. The hollow of her throat. The way she shivered when he kissed the inside of her wrist.
When she was naked beneath him, Jonah took his time. Kissing his way down her body. Learning what made her gasp. What made her arch. What made her moan his name.
"Jonah," Holly moaned when he kissed her breast. "Please."
"Please what?"
"Touch me. I need you to touch me."
His hand slid between her thighs. She was already wet, slick with desire. Jonah groaned at the feel of her. At the way her body responded to him.
"You're so perfect," he murmured against her skin. "So goddamn perfect."
Holly's hips rolled against his hand, seeking more. Jonah gave it to her. Two fingers sliding inside while his thumb rubbed her clit. She cried out, her back arching off the bed.
"That's it," Jonah said. "Let me hear you."
He worked her with his fingers, finding the rhythm that made her writhe. Holly's hands fisted in the sheets, her breath coming in short gasps. When he added his mouth to the mix, sucking her nipple while his fingers thrust, she came apart with a cry that went straight to his cock.
Jonah was, fascinated by the way pleasure transformed her face. Open. Vulnerable. Beautiful.
He kissed his way down her stomach, lower and lower until his mouth was between her thighs. Holly's protest died as his tongue licked her clit. She tasted like sin and sweetness, and Jonah couldn't get enough.
He ate her like a man starving. Licking and sucking and learning what made her lose control. Holly's hands tangled in his hair, holding him in place as she rocked against his mouth.
"Jonah, I'm going to—oh God—"
She came on his tongue with a sob, her thighs trembling around his head. Jonah gentled his movements, drawing out her pleasure until she begged him to stop.
He kissed his way back up her body. Holly pulled him into a kiss, tasting herself on his lips.
"I need you inside me," she said. "Now."
Jonah shed his jeans and boxers in record time.
His cock was achingly hard, leaking at the tip.
Holly's hand wrapped around him, stroking slow and firm.
He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock pressing against her slick opening.
Holly's legs wrapped around his waist, urging him forward.
Jonah pushed in slowly. So slowly. Giving her body time to adjust. She was tight and hot and perfect around him. When he was fully seated, he paused, letting them both adjust.
"You okay?" he asked.
"More than okay." Holly rolled her hips experimentally. "Move, Jonah. Please move."
He pulled back and thrust forward. Steady. Deep. Setting a rhythm that had Holly moaning beneath him. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he picked up the pace. Her inner walls fluttering around his cock.
"You feel so good," Jonah groaned. "So perfect wrapped around me."
"Harder," Holly gasped. "I need you harder."
Jonah shifted angles, hitting deeper. Holly cried out, her body arching into his. He could feel her climbing toward release again, could feel the way her muscles tensed.
"Come for me, baby," he said. "I want to feel you come on my cock."
His hand slid between their bodies, finding her clit. The added stimulation pushed Holly over the edge. She came with his name on her lips, her body clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that threatened to undo him.
Jonah held on, prolonging her pleasure. When the waves finally subsided, he let himself chase his own release. Thrust after thrust, driving deeper, claiming her in the most primal way possible.
"I love you," he said as his orgasm built. "God, Holly, I love you."
"I love you too," Holly whispered. "Come for me. I want to feel you."
That did it. Jonah came with a guttural groan, emptying himself inside her. Wave after wave of pleasure that left him shaking. Spent. Complete.
He collapsed beside her, pulling Holly against his chest. Their hearts raced in tandem, gradually slowing to a normal rhythm.
"That was," Holly started, then laughed. "I don't have words."
"Good words or bad words?"
"Very good words." She pressed a kiss to his chest. "The best words."