Kenna
Ilove him and it’s tearing me apart. I should leave Sugar Creek. I should run as far away from him as I can get. But I know it wouldn’t do me any good. I could move to the moon and it wouldn’t ease the ache one bit.
I search Jonas’ face, trying to find deception in his eyes, but there’s nothing but truth. For the first time, he’s not holding back. His walls are down, and I feel like I can finally see all of him. It’s like I’ve only seen these thin layers of him; little filters that gave me glimpses into who he really is, but they were only fragments.
The loyal friend. The hurting son. The passionate man. The dominating lover. All of those little pieces slide into place and the composite is heartbreakingly perfect. At least to me.
A sob rips from my chest. “I hate that I can’t let you go. It doesn’t matter what you do or how far I go, I’m always going to want you. And it’s always going to hurt.”
Jonas shakes his head and cups my cheek in his palm and I can’t help leaning into his touch, my eyes fluttering shut. God, he feels good. I shouldn’t give in, but his touch eases the ache in my soul.
“It doesn’t have to hurt, Kenna.” Jonas’ breath whispers over my lips. “Because no matter what you do or how far you go, I’m always going to love you.”
Lips, soft and warm, press against mine. I swallow another sob and kiss Jonas back. My lungs tighten painfully, my heart swelling so violently it threatens to consume me. My head swims as he tugs my lip between his teeth. Fingers tunnel into my hair and his warm arm wraps around my waist.
Jonas hauls me against him and he’s so big; so strong and thick that I feel like he has his own gravitational pull. Like every cell in my body has been falling toward him, and the closer I get, the harder I fall. I wrap my arms around his neck, winding my fingers into the hair I’ve always wanted to touch. Jonas groans, grabbing my ass and grinding me against him. His tongue pushes against my lips, forcing its way into my mouth.
His kiss is so demanding, so rough and full of need, that all I can do is open my mouth and take it. He kisses me until we both run out of air and come up panting. Jonas holds my face in his hands, the emotion in his eyes staggering. Love and need and adoration pour out of those gray irises, washing away any doubts that might have been lingering in my heart.
“I need you, Kitten,” he rasps, dropping to his knees and shedding his suit coat.
“Here?” My eyes dart around the conservatory. It’s dark except for a couple of flickering candles, but it’s one giant glass room. I can hear people laughing outside, the party spilling out onto the mansion grounds.
“Here.” Jonas’ voice is decisive. He unbuttons his cuffs, rolling them up his arms and I swallow hard. Demanding hands slide up my thighs, traveling under my dress. He locks his eyes on mine, daring me to tell him no, but I’m weak for him and that’s not the word on the tip of my tongue. His fingers hook under the hips of my panties, sliding them down my legs slowly. He taps my ankle and I step out of them.
Jonas pushes the skirt of my dress up to my waist. “Hold this for me, Kitten.”
I clench the fabric in one fist as he pushes my legs apart, his eyes rapturous. He runs a finger along my slit and it comes away glistening. Jonas groans and then his face is between my legs. He licks a broad, flat tongue over me and I shiver, my free hand tangling in his hair. Jonas pulls my hips against his face and sucks my clit between his lips.
I cry out; the pleasure overwhelming. But Jonas stops and looks up at me, eyes devious.
“Hush, Kitten. I don’t want anyone hearing you come on my tongue. ”
I nod and bite my lower lip between my teeth.
“Good girl,” he rumbles appreciatively. Then he pulls my thigh over his shoulder, both hands on my ass, holding me in place as he devours me. I brace my shoulders against the door and my head falls back, resting on the cool glass. I grind my hips against his face, riding his tongue, my body arched obscenely. I don’t care. Jonas is touching me. No secrets. No hiding.
And then a finger presses inside me, and the curling, desperate need inside me ignites into an inferno. I clamp a hand over my mouth, stifling the cries Jonas’ so easily wrenches from my body. He groans as if my pleasure is his. Fingers work me faster, harder. His merciless mouth sucks and flicks and then he does something that feels like gentle fluttering over my clit and the inferno spills out of me, consuming everything.
I bite my lip harder, crying out against my palm, vaguely aware of the satisfied rumble coming from Jonas. I’m floating as he sets my leg down, so carefully it makes my heart ache. He stands and wraps me in his arms. He cradles my head in his hand, holding me to his chest. I can hear his heart beating, racing in his chest. For me.
I wrap my arms around his waist, and for just a second, I’m 18, standing outside my school dance, letting this big man comfort me. This time, though, he’s not consoling me. He doesn’t pet me or wipe tears from my face. His hands aren’t tentative or polite. They tangle in my hair and squeeze my ribs, fingertips grazing the side of my breast. He holds me like I’m his.
Because I am.
And he’s mine.
Mine.
And maybe I’m greedy, but I need more of him. I push him back, just a couple of inches. Just enough room for my fingers to fumble at his belt. Jonas grabs them, staying my trembling hands.
“What are you doing, Kitten?”
I stare up into his eyes, the flicker of a nearby candle catching in the reflection. “It’s my turn. I need you inside me.” For a long heartbeat, I’m sure Jonas is going to tell me no, not here. He doesn’t. He releases my hands and holds my face in his palms, a smirk pulling at his lips.
“Then take what you need.”
He studies my eyes as I get his belt unbuckled. I push his pants and boxers down his hips, peeking down at the hard length bobbing against his shirt. Heart racing, I wrap my hands around him, remembering the way he stroked himself, making me watch.