I stare into the calming sapphire eyes of the man who always waits for me. “Jonah?”
“Hm?”
The air hangs thick and heavy, saturated with the scent of wisteria and damp earth. My breath hitches, and there's a knot of anticipation tightening in my stomach. This is it—the culmination of months of unspoken feelings, the dismantling of plans, and a growing sense of exhilaration and dread. I take a deep breath, trying to imprint every detail of this moment before I change everything.
“I love you.”
His inhale is sharp. Then, a grin spreads across his face, a blinding flash of white teeth that blaze with the intensity of the sun itself. His eyes change from a calm, steady blue, now sparkling with an unrestrained joy. He leans forward, voice laced with a breathless, infectious energy, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Yeah? Because I love you too! A lot, like... aggressively too much.” He laughs, the sound vibrant and full as our declaration hangs in the air, weighted with our history and the overwhelming emotions that have finally found their voice.
I giggle and clutch my hands into his chest. “That sounds threatening.”
“It is. I’m aggressively in love with you.”
When he kisses me, it’s not a playful, flirty kiss, likewe’ve shared in stolen moments. It’s deeper and steadier—a promise without the claustrophobia of one.
He’s not the boy I thought I was protecting us from—he’s the man I didn’t know we were waiting for.
After the private dinner he had booked, where I let him feed me dessert and stare into my eyes like the disgusting lovers we are, he drove home the long way with my hand in his lap and delivered kisses to every finger.
“Keep going,” I say, before he turns into my driveway. “I want to stay at your place tonight.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He smiles because he knows exactly what I want, but there’s a hint of an emotion I can’t place.
“Is everything okay?”
“Of course,” he says, turning into his driveway before flicking his gaze toward me. “My gorgeous girlfriend told me she loved me tonight. I’m not sure I could feel any better.”
King greets us at the door, and we promptly give him the love he wants, but his heart nearly breaks when Jonah tries to close him out of the bedroom. “Bro, don’t give me those eyes.” He sighs and squats down to press their faces together. “I’ll see what she says after she’s had her way with me,” he stage-whispers.
I giggle and scratch behind the old shepherd’s ears. “Sorry, buddy. This is for my eyes only.”
By some miracle we convince the dog to hang out in the den. When Jonah's bedroom door shuts, he removes his dinner coat and kneels before me with his hands on my shoes and his forehead on the rug.
Desire courses through my veins, and I stare at the white dress shirt pulled taut over his back muscles. “You spoiled me tonight, puppy. I’d like to reward you for making me so happy.”
“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. Thefirst 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.
