Asking for It
“Please,” I beg. He likes it when I beg. “Please, no. ”
“I said, you’re going to take it. ”
That’s when he pushes down the front of his black sweatpants, revealing his erection—blood dark, fully stiff, jutting out at me and wanting release.
He’s even more turned on than I am. I didn’t think that was possible.
Jonah shoves one of my legs up until my knee nearly touches my chin. Now my crotch is exposed, and his hand closes around that wet strip of my panties and pulls it aside. Two of his fingers push inside, and I whimper. He won’t stop for a condom this time; this will be the first time he fully feels how wet he makes me. How hot.
“Not enough for you, huh? You want some cock?”
“No—”
“No? You don’t? Too bad I don’t give a damn what you want. Shut the fuck up before I shut you up. ”
Jonah lowers himself over me and pushes inside.
“Oh, God,” I whisper against the floor as he starts to thrust. Though I try to brace myself against the floor, every move he makes rocks me. My legs splay open wider, as if that will somehow make my body ready for the enormous length and girth of him. Nothing could do that. “Please—please—”
“Please more?” Jonah shoves himself in harder, and I cry out. “Or do you like the deal I gave you? Are you ready to suck me off yet?”
“No—”
“Then take it. ”
Jonah starts giving it to me good. This angle makes it harder for me to get fully stimulated, but the fantasy is so good that it pushes me the rest of the way. And the images—the muscles of Jonah’s abdomen and pelvis working with every thrust, the thatch of dark hair above his cock, the grimace of ecstasy on his face—
Within seconds I’m panting; within two minutes, I’m at the brink. When Jonah thrusts even deeper inside, the sensation arcs inside me, cunt to heart to brain, and I can’t hold it back. The world turns upside down, inside out, and I come, moaning desperately as I clench around Jonah’s cock.
He knows what he’s done to me—he always does—but he says, “You ready to suck me off yet? Or you want to get fucked some more?”
I don’t answer. The breath won’t return to my lungs. I lie dazed, openmouthed, against the floor.
“You won’t choose,” Jonah pants. “So you get both. ”
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When he pulls out, I expect him to immediately get his cock into my mouth. Instead, Jonah takes the dildo and slowly pushes it inside me. My cunt, still tight from my orgasm, spasms around the thick silicone.
“You want me to use this on you hard? Or are you ready to suck?”
I want both. But I nod, half in a daze, unable to resist his will any longer.
Jonah rolls me onto my back, and I prepare myself for the blow job he wants—opening my mouth, wetting my lips with my tongue. But when he straddles my chest, he doesn’t move any closer to my face. Instead he cradles my breasts, then pushes them tightly together and thrusts his cock between them. He’s already so slick with pre-come and my wetness that each stroke is frictionless.
“Has a guy fucked your tits before?” When I don’t answer, Jonah pants, “Tell me!”
“Yes. ” It’s the truth. Derek and Geordie both did this, though not to completion.
Because I asked them not to come on me, I asked Jonah not to come on me either, that’s a forever rule. Please don’t come on me and make me think about Anthony, please, please.
“Yes?” That wasn’t what Jonah wanted to hear. “You’ll give it up to anybody, won’t you? About time you gave it up to me. ”
His thumbs rub against my nipples as he thrusts faster. My breasts ache from the pressure, and I can see nothing but the swollen head of his cock pushing toward me over and over again.
Jonah stops—perhaps catching himself on the brink of orgasm. Then he rocks back and forth, very slowly. His voice is a ragged whisper, now, all the more frightening for its quietness. “You’re gonna give me your throat. Say it. ”
“I will. ”
He pulls back, and for a moment I can only suck in a deeper breath, freed from the pressure across my diaphragm. My aching arms tingle as blood rushes back into them.
Then Jonah grabs me by the hair as he stands up, towing me to my knees. As I sit, the weight of my body forces the dildo deeper into me. It’s going to be like I’m getting fucked in both ends at once.
No doubt he sees me writhe around the unfamiliar sensation between my legs. His smile is smug—self-satisfied—and all I can think is, I didn’t fight hard enough.
My eyes narrow. “Fuck you. ”
He stares at me. “What did you say to me?”
“Fuck you. You think you’re so tough—surprising me when I’m asleep. But you’re not. You cheat. You cheated. I don’t see how anyone can stand you, you fucking coward. ”
That did it. I can feel Jonah’s anger in the way he pulls my hair. “Just for that, you’re gonna swallow it all. ”
He steps forward, his glistening cock right in front of my lips.
His voice is hardly more than a whisper, but it shakes with rage. “Now open your goddamned mouth. ”
The fist in my hair doesn’t leave me any choice. I open, and Jonah pushes inside.
This time he doesn’t wait before he starts fucking my mouth. My head is held between both of his hands, inexorably tight, and I cough and struggle for breath as he thrusts in and out, shallow and then deep. My body rocks back and forth with each thrust, and I feel the dildo shift within me. He’s close to finishing—so close I feel his cock pulse once against my tongue.
“You want this over with?” Jonah sounds breathless, but still totally in control. “Then suck. ”
I go to work on him, giving him everything I have. The abandon with which I start going down on him—the way I relish the salty taste on my tongue—it totally goes against the fantasy of force. But Jonah’s too far gone to notice that now. His breaths come shorter and sharper, each one just short of a moan. Slowly I rotate my hips in a spiral, enjoying the thickness of the dildo inside me. And when it hits me right there . . .
Oh, God, I’m going to come again already.
So I move faster, rocking my pelvis at just the right rhythm, as I feel the head of Jonah’s cock swell between my lips. Sensation shivers upward through me, strengthening by the moment—
My second orgasm isn’t as strong as the first, but it’s better. Slower. It ripples through me in waves, claiming my whole body in white-hot ecstasy. I groan around Jonah’s cock, and the vibration must push him over the edge. He shouts out, and then he comes, filling my mouth with heat. Quickly I gulp it down, every drop, the action almost lost in the spasms of pleasure still echoing through me.
Jonah pulls out. His cock—still half-hard—dangles in front of my face. A thin line of come trickles down the side of my mouth, and Jonah’s finger catches it. “There,” he murmurs, and already the scene is over.
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He eases me onto the bed, unties the scarf. As I lie there, rubbing my tingling throat, Jonah gently parts my thighs, slides the dildo out, and readjusts my panties. Then he stretches out beside me and pulls me against his chest.
We’ve never held each other in bed, after sex. Such a simple thing, but new to us. Even now we’re more or less clothed. Yet this is a more intimate moment than I’ve shared with any other lover.
“Was that okay?” he whispers against my temple.
“Yeah. It was amazing. Was it for you?”
“Every time. ” Jonah kisses my cheek, then my mouth, not shying away from the taste of his own semen the way some guys do. “You destroy me every time. Completely. ”
I’m the one who gets slapped around, thrown to the floor, tied up. But I’m the one destroying him? To anyone outside this bedroom it wouldn’t make sense. Doesn’t matter. Jonah and I understand.
He turns my face by the chin, examining
me carefully. “I didn’t slap too hard, did I?”
“No. It was just right. ” I pull back enough to give him a look. “Sometime I want to fight you a lot harder. ”
“Oh, yeah. ” There are no words for the wicked anticipation in Jonah’s smile. “Maybe on a night when we don’t have to be on campus the next morning. ”
“That would work. ”
Postorgasmic drowsiness has begun to tow me down. I can stay awake a long time after coming once—but after the second climax, sleep beckons fast. I yawn against Jonah’s chest, and he cuddles me closer.
He says, “Do you want me to stay?”
That’s what most people would do now. We’re dating. We just had sex. We’re lying together in my bed, worn out and deeply satisfied. What could be more natural than asking him to spend the night?
And yet I can’t.
“Not this time. ” I prop up on one elbow. “After this—just not after this. ”
Jonah’s disappointed, I can tell, but he takes it well. “I understand that. It’s going to take a while to—to make both sides of our relationship fit together. ”
“Exactly. ” I feel more relieved than I should. “You don’t mind?”
He shakes his head no as he looks down at me. “You’ve shown me so much trust, Vivienne. More than any other woman ever has. However slowly you need to take this, it’s up to you. Always. All right?”
“All right. ” And in that moment, I like Jonah so much that I nearly ask him to stay anyway.
But I don’t.
He locks the door on his way out. I can still hear his car pulling away as I drift into deep, fathomless sleep.
Twenty-three
Maybe it’s not a big deal that I didn’t ask Jonah to stay over the first night we had sex at my house. But the fact that it was the first time since we admitted we might mean something to each other—since I realized Jonah was a man I could come to care about deeply—
That feels important.
Usually this is the kind of thing I would share with Doreen. On Monday I might. But I already know where this will lead. Doreen will ask lots of leading questions meant to tell me what I already know: If I want to have a meaningful relationship with Jonah—an honest one—I have to tell him the whole truth about my rape fantasy. What an extreme fixation it is for me, how dirty it still makes me feel sometimes, and worst of all, what happened with Anthony.
I’m not ready to talk about any of that yet. I don’t think I’ll be ready to talk about Anthony ever.
So for now I just have to carry this weight around, and hope Jonah wasn’t too offended by my asking him to leave.
He shouldn’t be, though. I get the sense Jonah likes to run into locked doors once in a while, for the pleasure of kicking them open.
• • •
The next morning, when I park my car near campus and do the usual postdrive phone check, I see a text from Jonah: Call me when you get a chance.
Rather than walk to my office, I sit down on the nearest metal bench. It’s still strange to me that Jonah’s in my contacts. That he’s a guy I call in the middle of the day, like any other important person in my life.
Jonah answers almost immediately. “Vivienne. ”
Still no hello. “Yeah. What’s up?”
“I just got a call to consult on locations for a deep-sea rig in the North Atlantic, off the coast of Scotland. ”
“Wow. That’s the kind of thing you do in person?”
“Not necessarily. But they offered to fly me out there, and Scotland is one of the places I visit whenever I can. I’ll leave tonight. ”
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Jonah’s going away again. I’m glad he told me. I feel a pang at the thought of being without him, even for a few days. And yet I’m slightly freaked out that I already want him around all the time. “Thanks for letting me know. How long will you be gone?”
“About a week and a half. Do you think you could get some time off?”
“Wait. What?”
“I was asking if you’d like to come with me. ”
“To Scotland?”
“An island just off the coast of the Highlands. ” Jonah acts like he just invited me to the movies. “I realize it would take a couple of days for you to get things in order and join me—and I’ll be working—but we’d have some time away from it all. ”
I can’t think of what to say. “I’m sorry, you surprised me. Seriously, you want me to come meet you across the Atlantic in a few days?”
“On the Isle of Skye. It’s a beautiful place, Vivienne. Stark and wild. Not everyone appreciates it, but I suspect you would. ”
“But—a transatlantic flight—”
“It’s on me,” Jonah says. “I have the miles. ”
You shouldn’t waste them on me, I nearly say, before I remember that one news story I read about his family. His late father was one of the founders of Oceanic Airlines. Not only is Jonah not short on money, but he also probably gets to fly himself or his friends for free whenever he wants.
That makes this invitation less of a splurge for him—but no less of a leap for us both.
I laugh in surprise. “You really know how to step it up for the second date. ”
“I realize it’s unusual. But I wanted to ask. ”
This is impossible, of course. I have a class to help teach, a dissertation to write, Shay to look after—
But a reckless whisper in my head answers, You’ve covered tons of classes for both Marvin and Keiko; they owe you, big-time. You ought to turn your dissertation over to your advisor for a preliminary look soon anyway. Shay’s not due for nearly another month. Arturo and Carmen are taking good care of her—Rosalind too—
Somehow I find myself saying, “Let me see if I can reschedule some things. ”
“You’ll come?” Jonah sounds surprised, but in a good way.
“If I can make it work. ”
He speaks with a knowing, arrogant assurance that should infuriate me. Instead it curls my toes within my ballet flats. “You can. ”
“We’ll see!”
Five minutes later, as I walk into the departmental office, Kip glances over from his computer, eyebrow arched. “Well, well, well. I hear you’re painting the town red these days. ”
“Huh?”
“A friend of mine who waits tables in the area reported seeing you and Jonah Marks strolling along Congress this weekend. Quite lovey-dovey, at least for Professor Marks, which means he seemed to acknowledge you were there. ”
Does he have spies everywhere? The “campus Sauron” comparison is starting to feel a little too accurate. “Yeah, we went to dinner. ”
“If he’s treating you right, I withdraw my earlier objections,” Kip says as he types something so quickly his orange nails fly across his computer keyboard. “But let it be known, if he breaks your heart, he’ll regret it. ”
From anyone else, that would be pure bluster—some guy threatening to punch Jonah out, knowing full well this battle will never take place. From Kip? It means Jonah could find himself reassigned to a smaller office, denied a campus parking sticker, and God only knows what else. Could Kip derail Jonah’s chance at tenure? I wouldn’t put it past him. “Hey. Jonah’s been great, okay? No need to break out the nuclear option. ”
“Yet,” Kip says with relish. “He remains under watch. Is he taking you on some other outing soon? I want to spy on you. ”
Note to self: Never set up one of our “games” at any location where we could run into Kip. “Actually, now he wants to take me to Scotland. Can you help me clear next week?”
I really should’ve pulled out my phone before I said that, because the look on Kip’s face would make the greatest Vine ever.
“Wait. Hold everything. ” Kip clasps the desk as if he thinks he might fall down. “Did you say he wants to take you to Scotland?”
“He’s going tonight, but he wants me to meet him
over there in a couple of days. Probably I could leave on Saturday, if I get somebody to cover my classes early next week. But getting out of the departmental meeting, making sure I can move my appointment with Dr. McFadden—”
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“Scotland as in another country, across the ocean?” Kip shows no sign of recovering from the shock anytime soon.
I shrug. “I realize it’s kind of extravagant for a second date. ”
Kip is one of the only people who might realize that Jonah and I have a connection that dates further back than our evening out on Congress, but he’s too bowled over to catch it. “Kind of? He wants to whisk you away to foreign parts for glamorous locations, uninhibited vacation sex—”
Jonah and I don’t wait for vacations to be uninhibited. I have to smile. “He’s traveling for work, so I’ll probably be on my own most of the time. Still, I’d like to go. Can you help me out?”
“Of course I can, sweetie. Just give me a moment. ” He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes deep breaths, like someone trying not to faint. “My God. You’ve ensnared the most elusive man in Texas. Tamed the untamable. It’s like I’m talking to the big game hunter who brought down the yeti. ”
“He’s not the yeti!” By now I’m laughing.
“Then he’s George Clooney, and you’re Austin’s answer to Amal Alamuddin. But . . . this is a big step for you two. It’s not too big, is it?”
“What do you mean? It’s just some time away—a little farther away than usual. ”
“Sometimes what looks like generosity can be control. ” Kip speaks more quietly now, and something in his tone tells me he’s speaking from experience. He’s made some allusions to a significant love affair in his past that ended badly, but this is the first time he’s ever suggested any of the real details. “You think you’re being swept up in this big romance, but really it’s all about separating you from your own life. ”
That’s not what’s happening at all, I want to say—but I can’t deny that Jonah likes control. I’ve been wondering whether the change in our relationship would take away the sense of danger that excites us both. Maybe I should have been wondering if the danger would instead become real.
Being with Jonah is a risk. It has been since day one. Someday I might flinch—but not today.
“You’re overreacting,” I say. “This is a trip. Just a trip, and one I’d love to take. Come on, Kip, work your magic. ”