“Jonas!” I cried out. It only seemed to egg him on.
Licking me.
Nipping at my skin.
The man went down on me like I was a quickly melting cup of ice cream on a hot summer day. His finger teased my entrance, over and over, until I was begging him to finger me. But he didn’t. His mouth kept at me, the tip of his tongue replacing his finger. The thick pad of his thumb started to press circles around my clit.
“Fuck, baby! Oh my, my—“ My voice cracked. I had no idea how he did it, but my first orgasm shot through me.
Like a tsunami of pleasure, it wiped me out. Pulling me under. Crashing over me time and time again. Never letting me quite catch my breath. Time and space and matter no longer existed, and my big guy never stopped. My body convulsed as my pussy ached to be filled. With my inhibitions gone, I wasn’t even afraid of anyone hearing the broken cries of pleasure Jonas pulled from me. Incoherent mutterings and filthy words slipped past my lips.
But again, he didn’t stop.
His deep voice urged me for another. His fingers joined in, the thick digit stretching me, making my toes curl, and my hips started to get in on it, not just to the rhythm of the way he touched me but the soft sexy song playing through the speakers. First one, then a second. Both thick and stretching me. The bite of pain filled me, making me spread my legs a little wider. Each stroke pushed me closer and closer to the edge. The deep masculine sounds that came from him only made me hotter and needier.
If my first orgasm was a giant wave, the second was like a riptide. Not as big but none the less dangerous because it wouldn’t let me get back to shore. My thighs trembled, and sweat dripped down my back, and when he was done wringing out every ounce of pleasure from me, I was ready for him to pull his thick cock out and mount me to get his.
But he didn’t.
Jonas Porter was nothing like the men I’d ever met in my life before. And fuck me, if that didn’t scare me just as much as it excited me like nothing ever had.
I’d known he was different, just not how much.
Instead of screwing me into next Sunday, the man of dreams I had been too afraid to have stood and swept me up into his arms like I was made of the most delicate, precious crystal. My hands immediately wrapped around his neck, and his eyes connected with mine. Jonas’ gaze was soft and warm, like a man who was satisfied by what he’d just done to his woman while he took a seat.
That look on his face confused me.
I could feel just how hard he was with the throbbing length beneath me, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at him. Those hazel eyes were more green than brown as he smiled almost shyly back at me. I found that his ridiculously handsome face shiny with my juices made him even sexier. “That okay?” he asked.
“That was… better than okay,” I answered honestly, not bothering to play it cool or put my usual attitude-laced mask on.
“Yeah? More than okay?” His lips twitched, but I could see his chest puff up like a proud peacock.
“Oh yeah.” I smiled brightly. The walls I usually kept around me had fallen somewhere on the floor of the private room, and I was too happy, too relaxed, and too cozy in his arms to try to start building them back up. I shifted, and the stiff reminder made it fall slightly. “What about?—“
“Don’t worry about that.” He shook his head and leaned closer, kissing me softly. I could taste myself on his mouth, and I didn’t mind it. I enjoyed it.
“Why not?” My eyes started to feel heavy, but I guess that was to be expected after two phenomenally world-shattering orgasms.
“Because when I have you, Kitty, it’s not going to be on the couch in a strip club.”When, not if.
“Jonas—“
“You’re going home with me tonight., he stated, like his word was law.
“But—“The word slipped out. Old habits died hard and all that.
“No buts,” he cut me off, nipping my argument in the bud. “You’re coming home with me,” he repeated, something I was almost positive he hardly ever had to do with anyone else.
“Okay,” I found myself agreeing. I felt his body relax beneath mine, like he had been ready to argue with me about it.
And that’s when it struck me.
He wanted me.
Jonas Porter wanted me.
He knew what I did. Who I was. Not only had that not scared him off, he paid attention to the things I liked. How many times had I stepped foot into our little reading sessions, and he had my favorite snacks or my favorite coffee from my favorite shop waiting for me? I might have decided earlier to give this thing a go, but in that moment, resting my head on his shoulder as my body slowly came down from the most beautiful high anyone had ever given me, I knew that Jonas Porter was mine, too.
For how long? I wasn’t sure. But I was going to have fun. Throw caution to the wind and roll the dice with the man who made me feel seen and safe.
I’d had front row tickets to Jade gambling on Lucas.
Maybe it’s my turn?
Maybe I wasn’t as ordinary as I’d let myself believe?
Maybe he saw something special in me, too?
