17. Lila #2
“Now you’re speaking my language.” A grin spreads before I can stop it. “I’ve been waiting for you to say something like that since we started this trip. Well, I have been waiting for you to say a lot of things lately, but this one was not as high on the list, you could say.”
“Don’t look so smug,” he counters.
“How would you like me to look then? Sexy? Smoldering? Begging for you on my knees?” I wink. “If you pick the last one, I will need help getting up, but I will make the assist worth it.”
Jonah goes completely still. God, I love doing this to him.
“Well, which position would you like?”
That earns me a slow look from across the motel room. The kind that starts at my face and drifts downward before coming back up again.
My pulse stutters. Well then. Player two has entered the game.
“I think,” he says carefully, leaning back in his chair, “you underestimate how much restraint I’m currently exercising.”
“Exercise restraint? Is that what you call it?” I lean forward, my gaze locked with his. “I think you just like torturing yourself, Professor. I am literally serving myself up on a platter to you, and you’re the one denying both of us.”
Jonah’s eyes widen, his composure cracking. I can see the struggle playing out across his face—want battling with rules he’s constructed for himself.
“That’s not what this is.”
“No?” I stand up slowly, ignoring the slight twinge in my injured shoulder as I walk toward him.
Max lifts his head, watching me with canine curiosity before deciding we’re boring and settling back down.
“Then explain what it is, because from where I’m standing, you’re being stubborn for no good reason. ”
Jonah doesn’t move as I approach, but his breathing changes—that small, almost imperceptible shift that tells me he’s fighting to maintain control. I stop directly in front of him, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his body.
“Lila,” he starts, his voice tight with restraint, “we agreed?—”
“We agreed that we’d wait because of my injury. I don’t want to wait. In fact, I am tired of waiting.”
I stare at him, this beautiful, stubborn man, and a wave of pure determination washes over me. I’ve waited long enough.
“You know what? I think you’ve made your point.” I step back, and a flash of disappointment crosses his features—quick but unmistakable. But I’m not backing down. Instead, I sink to my knees in front of him, the motel carpet rough beneath my bare legs.
“What are you doing?” His voice cracks as his hands grip the armrests of the chair.
“I’m making things easier for both of us,” I say, my fingers finding the button of his jeans. “If you won’t come to bed, I’ll bring the party to you.”
“Lila—” His protest dies as my fingers make quick work of his zipper. “You shouldn’t—your shoulder?—”
“My shoulder is perfectly capable of this.” I look up at him through my lashes. “Unless you’re going to tell me you don’t want me to touch you?”
He swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“I didn’t think so.” I free him from his jeans, and he’s already hard—so hard it makes my mouth water. “You’ve been denying yourself all day. That can’t be comfortable.”
“God,” he breathes as I wrap my fingers around him. His eyes are dark with desire, his control visibly fraying.
I run my thumb over the sensitive tip, watching him shudder. “Tomorrow we’re heading into what could be the most intense storm system of the trip. “Don’t you think you deserve a little reward first?”
His breath catches audibly as I stroke him slowly, learning the feel of him. He’s thicker than I expected, and the way his stomach muscles clench beneath my touch sends heat pooling low in my belly.
“Lila—” My name sounds like a prayer on his lips. His hand hovers near my hair, not quite touching. “You don’t have to?—”
“I know I don’t have to,” I interrupt. “I want to.”
I lean forward and lick the length of him, savoring the sharp intake of breath it produces. His fingers finally tangle in my hair, gently guiding me rather than forcing. The restraint is so quintessentially Jonah that it makes me ache.
When I take him into my mouth, his reaction is immediate and intense. His thighs tense beneath my hands, and a groan rumbles from deep in his chest. I work him slowly, deliberately, savoring the power I have over this brilliant, controlled man.
“Oh god,” he breathes, his head falling back against the chair. His fingers remain gentle in my hair despite the tension evident in every line of his body.
I hollow my cheeks, taking him deeper, and his hips buck involuntarily. I smile around him, pleased with his loss of composure.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, sounding genuinely embarrassed by his reaction.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” I say, releasing him just enough to speak. “I want all of you, Professor. Every reaction, every sound, every bit of that tight control slipping away. Tell me what you want,” I demand as I stroke him slowly.
His eyes flutter open, dark with desire. “I want you.”
“That’s vague.” I smile, running my tongue along the sensitive underside. “Be more specific.”
Jonah’s fingers tighten in my hair. “I want you to continue exactly what you’re doing.”
“That’s better.” I take him deeper, pleased when his breathing grows ragged.
His head falls back against the chair, all academic pretense stripped away. This is Jonah unleashed, raw and vulnerable. Beautiful.
I work him slowly, deliberately, savoring each tremor that runs through his body. His control is unravelling thread by thread, and I am mesmerized by the sight.
“Lila,” he gasps, his voice breaking. “I’m close.”
“Don’t stop,” he pleads, when I pause to glance toward the bed.
“I have no intention of stopping.” I return my attention to him, redoubling my efforts.
His fingers gently guide my movements now, all pretense of restraint abandoned.
“God, Lila,” he groans, his entire body tenses. His release hits the back of my throat, and I swallow it all, watching his face contort with pleasure. It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve seen all day.
When the moment passes, he slumps back in the chair, looking utterly wrecked. “Holy shit,” he whispers, the profanity sounding almost foreign in his mouth.
I smile up at him, wiping the corner of my mouth with my thumb. “Was that okay?”
His chest rises and falls rapidly as he regains his composure. “That was...” He shakes his head, seemingly at a loss for words. “I don’t have adequate vocabulary for what that was.”
I climb slowly to my feet with his help, wincing as my injured shoulder protests. Before I can step back, Jonah’s hands find my waist, pulling me onto his lap against his hard cock.
“That was amazing,” he says as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “But now it’s your turn.”
“Jonah, you don’t?—”
“Shh.” His finger presses gently against my lips. “Just because I can’t fuck you, doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy this, too.”
His hand slides under my shirt, warm palm pressing against my stomach. I shiver at his touch, already anticipating more, but he changes direction, instead moving lower.
“Can I touch you?” His voice is low as his fingers trace the waistband of my leggings.
“Please,” I beg.
His hand slides beneath the fabric, fingers trailing upward with agonizing slowness. I’m already wet for him, my body having responded to his pleasure as if it were my own. When his fingers find me, a soft gasp escapes my lips.
“You’re so ready,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my neck as he explores me with feather-light touches.
I roll my hips into his hand, seeking more pressure, more friction. “Not fair. You’ve been teasing me all day.”
“Have I?” His mouth finds the sensitive spot just below my ear, teeth grazing the skin in a way that makes me shiver. “Maybe I was trying to drive myself crazy.”
“It worked,” I manage, as his fingers circle my most sensitive spot. My good hand grips his shoulder, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.
He chuckles, the sound vibrating against my skin. “Good.”
My phone buzzes again from across the room, but it might as well be on another planet. Emily’s persistent curiosity can wait. Jonah’s attention is all-consuming, his touch growing bolder as he learns what makes me gasp and moan.
His free hand tugs at the hem of my tank top. “I want to see you.”
I hesitate only briefly before nodding. He helps me lift the tank top over my head, careful to avoid my injured shoulder.
The cool air raises goosebumps across my skin.
When he sees me, his breath catches audibly.
The look in his eyes makes me feel beautiful in a way I haven’t felt in years.
His gaze travels slowly down my body, lingering on my breasts, which are now free from the confines of my top.
“You’re stunning.”
His hand returns to between my legs, and this time, he finds my entrance easily. One finger slides inside me, making me gasp at the sensation.
“More,” I demand, my hips moving against his hand.
He adds another finger, stretching me deliciously. The feeling is exquisite as he begins to move his hand in a rhythm that has me panting against his neck.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against my skin, his mouth finding my collarbone. “Let me take care of you.”
My breathing becomes erratic as pleasure builds within me. His fingers curl inside me, finding that perfect spot that makes stars explode behind my eyes. I’m close, so close, when he does something unexpected.
Jonah shifts me off his lap, and back onto my feet before putting me into the chair.. He kneels, his hands sliding my leggings down my legs. The sight of this man on his knees before me is almost too much.
“Sit back,” he says, his voice commanding despite his position.
Jonah pushes my legs apart. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat as Jonah lowers himself between my thighs. His hands slide up my legs, leaving trails of fire in their wake. When his mouth finds me, I nearly jump out of my skin.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, my fingers immediately finding purchase in his hair.
He hums against me, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. His tongue explores me with methodical precision, learning what makes me tremble and moan. It’s almost unbearably intimate—this brilliant, careful man now completely focused on my pleasure.
“That’s—” The words dissolve into a moan as he finds a rhythm that makes my thighs tense. My head falls back against the chair as sensation overwhelms me.
I’ve never experienced this level of attention before. Most men rush, focus on their own pleasure, but Jonah is thorough and dedicated, like he’s solving a complex equation where my satisfaction is the only answer.
“You taste amazing,” he murmurs against my sensitive flesh, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through me.
His hands grip my hips, holding me steady as his tongue finds its way to my most sensitive spot. I’m close, so close, when he slides two fingers inside me, curling them against that perfect spot while his tongue continues its relentless attention.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp, my hand tightening in his hair.
The pleasure builds like a storm gathering force, each sensation adding to the pressure until I’m certain I’ll shatter. Jonah seems to sense this, increasing his pace, his fingers pumping in rhythm with his tongue.
“Oh God, Jonah,” I cry out as the orgasm crashes through me, my body convulsing with waves of pleasure that seem endless. My thighs clamp around his head as I ride out the sensation, my fingers gripping his hair hard enough that it must hurt, but he doesn’t stop until the final tremor subsides.
As I come down from my high, I realize I’m panting, my chest rising and falling rapidly. Jonah rests his forehead against my thigh, his breathing equally ragged. I look down at him, this brilliant, beautiful man who just shattered me with his mouth, and something shifts in my chest.
“Come here,” I demand.
He rises slowly, his face flushed, his lips swollen and glistening. I kiss him deeply, tasting myself on his mouth, and the intimacy of it makes me shudder.
“No one has ever...”
He smiles against my lips, looking almost shy despite the intensity of what we just shared. “I wanted to make sure you?—”
“You definitely did,” I assure him, pulling him closer.
“Let’s get you to bed,” he murmurs against my ear, his arms sliding around my waist with tender care. “You’ve had enough exertion for tonight.”
I want to protest, to tell him I’m not fragile, but the truth is my shoulder is throbbing and my body feels like liquid warmth.
I let him help me to my feet. Jonah grabs my leggings, and slides them up my legs.
Max lifts his head from the bed, watching us with sleepy eyes before settling back down with a huff.
As we reach the bed, Jonah gently helps me lie down before climbing in beside me. The mattress dips under his weight, and I instinctively curl toward him, seeking his warmth. His arm wraps around me, careful to avoid my injured shoulder, pulling me close against his chest.
“This okay?” he asks, his lips brushing my hair.
“More than okay,” I whisper, my cheek pressed against his racing heart. His cologne fills my senses, mingling with the scent of our shared pleasure.
I should say something about what just happened. About what it means. But the comfortable silence feels right, natural in a way I can’t explain. My eyelids grow heavy as exhaustion from the day finally catches up with me.
“Get some sleep,” Jonah says, his voice a soothing rumble beneath my ear. “Tomorrow’s going to be intense.”
“Mmm,” I agree, already drifting. The last thing I feel is his lips pressed gently against my forehead as sleep claims me.