“You don’t need to apologise. Not to me.”
She could plunge into his eyes, dive into their depth and seek out the treasure that made up him. She wanted to explore and plunder, take what she needed and repay him with every inch of her.
“At some point I will.”
He pushed her hair away from her face, his touch slow and deliberate. “Let’s deal with that when it happens. We’re only human. Everyone fucks up.”
Her smile didn’t need to be forced. “And you’ve known me long enough to know that I’m good at fucking up.”
“And fucking. Before we got called out to the fire, I kept thinking about tonight and this weekend, all the things I wanted to do to you.”
She felt him shiver. His body was hard under his hoodie; the tension he was carrying palpable even through the thick material. She twisted round so she was facing him and threaded her fingers under his top and the t-shirt underneath, her hands finding warm skin.
“We should eat.”
“I’ve already got what I’m hungry for.”
“Rayah…”
She pressed her lips against his and claimed his mouth, needing to take possession and control, to find some way to communicate what she couldn’t put into words because there was no translation.
He gave her about nine seconds of being in control before he took over, his hand on the back of her head slowing down her pace, allowing him to own and dominate.
Rayah didn’t fight it. She didn’t want to. She spent most of her life having control of too many things and this was something she could entrust with Jonny. He would never cause her pain unless she asked him and sometimes that didn’t need words.
Gently, he lowered her to the bed, moving them so they were at the top, her head on a pillow. She resumed touching him, her hands feeling their way across his stomach, feeling the tightened muscles and then up to his chest, his nipples that were hard nubs. He kissed her harder, his hands dropping to her waist where he held her tightly, as if she was a doll.
“Where do you want me to fuck you?” He looked in her eyes as he said it, pupils wide, daring, suggesting.
They’d talked about this when his fingers had roamed, pushing her boundaries, making her give him more of her than she’d ever let anyone have.
“Where you want.”
He pushed up her top, exposing the bra she had on. A black one, chosen for him, the lace exposing her nipples.
“Where do you want it?”
“You know where.” She sat up, pulling her top off completely, mussing her hair and not caring. It was about to get a lot more mussed, judging how Jonny was looking at her.
His kiss this time was soft and tender. “Are you sure, Ray?”
“Totally.” She was. It was a first she could give him, the last first she had to give and she wanted it to be them. She wanted it to be only with him.
“Do you trust me?”
“Completely.” He needed the words. He always needed the words first and then he would listen to her body as if it was his favourite symphony.
As he kissed her again, his hands unsnapped her bra, exposing her breasts as he pulled it away from her, leaving her bare from the waist up.
“I want to see you. Let me see you.”
She watched, mesmerised as he pulled off his hoodie and t-shirt in one movement, letting her take in the ripped muscles of his body. It was hard to move her eyes and it wasn’t until she heard his chuckle that she broke her stare.
“You’ve seen all this before.”
Her head shook. “Do you get bored of me?”
“No. Never. Every time I see you I remember how fucking lucky I am right now, that this gorgeous, intelligent woman is choosing to share her mind and her time and her body with me. Fuck, Rayah. Looking at you there,” he sat back, his eyes shifting so slowly over her skin she could feel his gaze as if it was his finger or mouth. “With your tits on display for me and your face flushed, I can’t believe how you’re looking at me.”
