I can’t tell if I’m disappointed that he’s not jealous or if I’m delighted by how few fucks he gives. “Noted.”
His wrist tenses in my grip and that’s the only warning I get. He spears me with two fingers and catches the back of my neck with his other hand. Once again, he’s not anywhere close to hurting me, but I am held immobile all the same. Jonas presses his forehead to mine, another tether to bind us together. “With that said.” His exhale ghosts against my lips. “As long as this pussy is mine, no one else touches you without my permission. Got it?”
“Got it,” I breathe. I’m not normally one to find overly possessive stuff sexy, but there’s something about knowing that it’s limited to this fantasy that removes all the barriers. I revel in it. “I won’t touch anyone else. I promise.”
“I don’t know if I believe you. You seem to like breaking my rules.” His fingers pulse inside me. “And I’m the fool who can’t get enough of you despite it.”
I don’t know what I’d say in response because Jonas kisses me. No, he possesses my mouth just like he’s possessing my body right now. As if he owns lips and tongue and teeth the same way he owns my pussy.
I can’t get enough. I wrap my arms around his neck and try to get as close as he’ll allow me. It brings me up against his hold, and the fact that he’s holding me away from closing that last little bit of distance while still plundering my mouth is almost too much to bear. When he finally lifts his head, I’m breathing hard and far too close to begging. “Jonas,” I breathe his name, barely more than a whisper, but he tenses under me as if I screamed it instead.
He releases my neck, the shock of the break in contact nearly making me miss the gentle way he brushes my hair back from my face. He leans against the headboard once more. “Take off the shirt.”
I grab the hem and lift slowly. I’m not exactly trying to tease him, but the sight of his fingers buried inside me short circuits something in my brain. It’s only when he clears his throat that I remember what I’m supposed to be doing and raise the shirt another few inches.
God, the way Jonas watches me.
I thought he devoured me with his gaze downstairs when we were arguing about business. It’s nothing compared to now. He’s looking at me like I’m his in truth, a toy he’s impatient to get out of the box so he can play with it to his heart’s content. It makes me slow down again with the shirt just below my breasts. When he growls, I grin. “Problem?”
“Take off the fucking shirt, Blake.”
There’s something about the way he says my name that sends a bolt of heat straight to my pussy. I roll my hips a little bit, fucking his fingers. As much as I want to keep teasing him, the truth is that I’m just as impatient as he is. I pull the shirt over my head and toss it aside.
“There you are,” he breathes. I don’t think he means to say it, but he’s too distracted by my bare breasts to realize he’s spoken aloud. I relish that loss of control just like I have every other sign since we started this game.
I cup my breasts, lifting them a bit. I tease my nipples to hard points beneath his heated gaze. “Do you like what you see?”
“Yeah. I like what I see.” He withdraws his hand and stares at me long enough that I start squirming with impatience. Jonas gives my hip an idle smack. “Don’t rush me.”
“What happened to your not wanting to get caught?”
He shakes his head slowly as if trying to focus. “You’re one hell of a distraction.” Another shake of his head and he’s closing off his expression. I relish the change even as I kind of miss how affected he is just by the sight of my naked body. It’s a heady thing. Jonas finally grasps my hips and pulls me forward. “You’re right. We’re taking too long.”
“Sor—”
“Don’t you dare apologize to me when you don’t mean it.”
I snap my mouth shut. Jonas gives me one last long look. “Get up here and take this cock before I change my mind.”
“Yes, Daddy.” I make a vague approximation of meekness as I shift and up and allow him to guide me to his cock.
Allow him to guide me? What a joke. I all but throw myself onto him. I need him inside me and I need it now. No matter how fun the back and forth is, the fact remains that I’m nowhere near sated. It’s like a chant through my brain that I can’t shrug off. More, more, more, give me more. More of the fantasy. More of Jonas.