Dolby(43)
Author: Maryann Jordan

 

She clutched his face with her hands, feeling the coarse stubble underneath her palms. “I’m okay,” she assured. “I promise I’m okay. I wasn’t harmed.” Moving closer, she angled her head and sealed her mouth over his, wanting to take what strength she could from him while offering what understanding she could give. If he was surprised at her bold move, he didn’t show it. Instead, his arms tightened, pressing their chests together, until she felt sure that their hearts must be beating as one.

 

He groaned, and she swallowed the vibration, welcoming his tongue sliding into her mouth as she did the same. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake. She wanted to memorize his taste and feel of him. Everything he had to give, she wanted to take deep within her soul. His body. His affection. Even his pain, having recognized his fears for her.

 

“Christ, babe,” he mumbled against her mouth. “Since Angela told us that you’d been taken, I’ve been lost. Fuckin’ crazy, pissed, and lost.”

 

She leaned back slightly to hold his gaze in the darkened room. “And now?”

 

“Now, I’m fuckin’ found.”

 

Ignoring everything else around them, she dove in for another kiss. She wanted to crawl inside him, be surrounded by the safe harbor he offered. Yet as her tongue tangled with his, she poured everything she had into the kiss, wanting him to feel down to his very bones that she was safe and alive.

 

Leaning back slightly, she gripped the bottom of her shirt. Lifting it, she whipped it over her head before he had a chance to speak. Not caring that the only thing underneath was a plain, white cotton bra, she reached behind to the clasp.

 

He jolted, then grabbed her hands behind her back. “No, Marcia. Not now. Not this way. You deserve—”

 

Shaking her head, she argued, “Yes, Jonathan. I want this. I need you.”

 

“Babe, you’ve got me. When we get together, I want it to be what you deserve. Not here in this place of bad memories.”

 

She spied his anguished hesitation. Bringing her hands forward, she cupped his jaws again. “I’m bruised but not broken. I’ve cried, but I’ve survived. I have no idea what tomorrow brings, but right now, I want to feel alive with you. I want all of you. If you want to rid my prison of the memories, then let me have you now.”

 

She waited, his gaze boring into her eyes, and even in the dim light, she was sure he could see into her soul. Barely breathing until his lips slowly curved, she finally let the air rush out. Unclasping her bra, she let it fall from her arms, then clutched her arms around her. Brow furrowing, she confessed, “I’ve been able to wash off, but with no razor, I haven’t shaved in a week.”

 

Snorting, he growled, “Babe, do you think I give a fuck about not shaving?”

 

She grinned and thought it was the perfect answer as she lifted her arms around his neck. His gaze finally dropped to her chest, and now that her eyes were more adjusted to the dim light, she could see the flare of desire move through his eyes. She shifted around to straddle him, his erection pressing against her core.

 

“I should be pissed at myself,” he said. “I have control of my body, yet when I’m around you, even in the middle of this fucked-up situation, my dick has a mind of its own.”

 

A soft giggle slipped out. “I’m glad. Both for your typical restraint and the fact that he”—she wiggled on his lap—“can’t wait.”

 

Dolby, with his arms still wrapped around her, fell back onto the mattress, pulling her on top of him. In that position, she felt free. Freer than she’d been in a long time. She knew he was giving control over to her, knowing how much control had been stripped away.

 

Their mouths melded together again, then she finally mumbled against his lips. “I want you. We have too many clothes between us. I want nothing.”

 

He rolled to the side, his grip loosening around her as he sat up and whipped his shirt over his head. He stared down for just a moment before bending and sucking and kissing along her jaw, down to the bottom of her neck, where her pulse fluttered underneath her pale skin. He continued kissing a trail to her breasts, and she gasped when he pulled a hard-budded nipple into his mouth.

 

As his lips worked magic, she started to close her eyes and then realized she didn’t want to miss one second of their first time together. He moved between both breasts before trailing kisses down to her pants. Still wearing the elastic-waisted pants, she felt them shimmy over her hips and down her legs. Soon, she was naked and exposed to his heated gaze.

 

They lay facing each other, chest to chest, gaze to gaze.

 

Kissing again, she welcomed his wandering hands as they skimmed over her breasts, palming their fullness, slightly tweaking her nipples. He swallowed her moans and little gasps, and his fingers danced tantalizingly close to her mound. She pleaded, “Please, Jonathan.”

 

His forefinger circled her clit, and she knew he’d discovered how wet she was for him when his hand continued lower and he slid his fingers through her slick folds. Opening her legs wider, she welcomed his exploration.

 

And he didn’t disappoint. Gliding his finger through her wetness, he inserted it deep inside. She immediately felt the coil tighten in her womb. He leaned forward to kiss her again, his tongue now in rhythm with the movements of his finger. She felt more fullness as he added another finger, scissoring the two digits, touching her in a way that her vibrator couldn’t even begin to pleasure.

 

Groaning again, fingers clutched his shoulders, her ragged nails digging into the skin as her orgasm came closer. Playing her like a fine instrument, he hit just the right spot, and her inner muscles quivered as her release slammed into her. Whatever sounds she would’ve made were muffled as he sealed his mouth over hers for another kiss.

 

She lay for a moment, basking in the euphoria of her body’s humming from his hand, and wondered what heights of pleasure she’d feel when she had all of him.

 

Her hands moved to his belt buckle, but he shook his head. “Babe, we can’t.”

 

“Jonathan…” she begged, not caring that she was whining.

 

“It’s not that I don’t want to, but baby, I don’t have protection.”

 

“Protection?” Her brow lowered as her sluggish brain tried to discern his meaning.

 

“A condom. I don’t have a fucking condom,” he growled.

 

Suddenly, she bolted out of his arms and jumped to her feet. Bending, she snatched his shirt from the floor and pulled it on, grinning at how it covered her to her knees. She headed to the door, but he jumped up behind her and stopped her with his hand on her shoulder.