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“So—fucking—beautiful,” he murmurs as I help him get my jeans past my hips. Jonah sits up to tug them away, then sits there at the foot of the bed for a moment, gazing at me. I lie naked in front of him, my nipples hardened and glistening, my breaths coming fast. Slowly, so slowly, he slides my legs apart and stares at me even more intently. “I never get to do this either. ”
Which is when he lowers his mouth to my clit.
Oh, God, he’s good at this. He’s really, really good at this. Jonah’s tongue laps at me, circles me, and then he starts to suck in a rhythm that brings me to the brink almost instantly.
But it’s not going to make me come.
Only the fantasy does that.
Pretend, I tell myself desperately. My entire body trembles. Pretend he’s forcing you to do this. That he told you to lie here and let him do whatever he wants or he’d make you sorry.
Usually that works, but tonight I can’t convince myself. Jonah’s face is buried between my legs—and I can tell he’s lost to anything but the desire to taste me, to make me come. The broad muscles of his shoulders work beneath my knees, nearly as sexy as the slight bob and turn of his head. He’s giving everything to me. Serving me. And I love it, I do, but even as I hover at the dizzy edge of orgasm, I can’t let go.
“I want you inside me,” I moan. “Please, Jonah, fuck me. ”
He pulls back a bit, kisses my cunt one more time, then shoves himself off the bed to get rid of his jeans. I lie there, splayed out for him, panting hard. Jonah can’t move fast enough.
Then he’s atop me again, the hardness of his erection pressing insistently against my belly as we kiss. I take his cock in my hand and guide it downward; Jonah closes his eyes in pleasure as he feels how wet I am.
“Now,” I whisper, and Jonah pushes all the way inside me with one long, slow thrust.
Yes. I arch my back, close my eyes. Now I can imagine anything I want.
“You feel so good,” he murmurs. “So fucking tight. I love feeling you wrapped around me. ”
I ought to enjoy hearing him say that. On some level I do. But his praise only cuts into the fantasy I need.
As Jonah begins driving into me, I fill my mind with images of what we’ve done before. If—if maybe that first night at the hotel, when he threw me on the bed—if he hadn’t ended the scenario then. If he’d kept me there, calling me a whore and a slut, until he could fuck me again—
—it might have felt like this—
As I get close, my entire body tenses against his, and he feels it. Jonah starts thrusting harder. Answering me. I fill my mind with the memory of that hotel room, the savage way he took me, not so unlike the way he’s inside me now. I can’t think anymore, can’t see. I belong only to him, only ever to him.
The world goes white-hot as I clench around him. My orgasm hits me so hard I think for a moment I’ll pass out. I manage to stifle my cry of ecstasy against Jonah’s shoulder, and I hear him sigh with satisfaction.
“Vivienne,” he groans, and then he’s there with me. Pleasure shudders through Jonah’s body as he grips me closer, and there’s nothing better than this.
Or there shouldn’t be.
But I can’t forget that I still had to fantasize about rape to get myself all the way there.
“At last,” he murmurs as we lie together in the aftermath. Jonah spoons behind me, drowsily kissing my neck and shoulders. “I got to take my time enjoying you. Now I get to sleep beside you. ”
“I should warn you—sometimes I talk in my sleep. ”
Jonah chuckles, the vibration of his laugh resonating against my back. “What do you say?”
“Nothing intelligible, apparently. Just mumbling. ”
“Doesn’t matter. I could sleep through a tornado. ”
“My perfect guy,” I say. I mean it as a joke—thinking of how Geordie used to grumble about my waking him up in the middle of the night. But once I’ve said the words, I realize how true they might be.
Some men would hear that and instantly panic. Jonah simply kisses the nape of my neck and holds me tighter.
I should be so happy right now. And I am—in so many ways—but the dark weight of doubt lingers deep inside. Whatever else my sexual relationship has been with Jonah, it has been completely, utterly, honest.
Tonight, for the first time, I hid the truth from him. When I indulged in that fantasy without him—in a way, I lied.
But the only thing worse than lying to Jonah would be telling him the truth.
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