“Do better than try.” He pushes a single finger into me. A moment later, a second finger joins the first. I’m so wet, there’s no resistance at all as he begins to slowly stroke me. Testing me.
I still can’t believe this is happening. For how much Jonas seems to like telling me no, he’s certainly gone from zero to sixty in the space of an hour. Just how far are we going to go?
I want to know. I need to know.
“Did you know I spent the night at that party?”
The question catches me so off-guard, I tense. “Yes.” His presence under my parents’ roof had driven me to distraction. First because he drew me like a moth to flame, and then because even with rejection stinging like a wasp, I still wanted him. I lick my lips. “I fingered myself thinking about you that night.” I match his low tone, our words barely above whispers.
Jonas works a third finger into my pussy the same way he did the first two. Slowly. Methodically. “If I walked into the wrong room, I would have been treated to the same sight I got earlier.”
Me on my stomach, ass up as I fuck myself with my fingers.
I nod, barely daring to breathe. “Yes.”
“In your parents’ house, no less.” He shakes his head. “If I’d walked in and shut the door, what would you have done then, baby girl?”
The room feels like it’s getting hotter with each second that passes. I look down my body to where he’s still finger fucking me. He’s not going after my G-spot the way he did last time. No, Jonas is stroking me like he owns me and he’s reminding us both of the fact. Slow and thorough and possessive. I swallow hard. “I think it would play out a lot like this.”
“Mmm. I think so, too.” He slides his free hand over my hip, fingers dipping beneath the fabric. “You’d roll over and pull up your shirt so you can show me this pretty pussy. How’s a man supposed to walk away from an invitation like that?”
“He’s not. You’re not.”
“I should.” He states it as fact. “You’re not for me, and taking what you’re offering is a shitty thing to do.” Jonas inhales deeply. “Just a taste, baby girl. Just a taste and that will have to be enough.”
Enough for who?
It’s sure as hell not going to be enough for me.
8
I don’t get an answer because Jonas is sliding down to settle between my thighs. He gives me one last long look. “Be quiet, Blake. If you make too much noise, I have to stop.”
“I’ll be quiet. I promise,” I whisper.
My resolve doesn’t last through the first drag of his tongue over my pussy. A whimper works its way past my lips despite my best efforts. Jonas doesn’t stop. He dips one hand beneath my shirt to press against my stomach, holding me in place as he explores my pussy with his mouth just as thoroughly as he did with his fingers. Tracing and teasing and nowhere near enough to get me over the edge. The fact that my orgasm doesn’t seem to be his aim in this moment only makes this sexier. He’s not doing this to get me off so we can hurry up and fuck. He’s savoring me, lingering over my taste the way someone does over expensive whiskey or a favorite dessert.
Another whimper slips free.
I barely register that he’s gone still before he’s moving up my body and settling between my thighs. Jonas digs one hand into my hair and pulls my head to the side a bit. He drags his mouth along the bared line of my neck, his words low and rough and just for me. “I told you to be quiet, Blake.”
“I’m sorry.” But I’m not. As much as I love his mouth on me, the feeling of his weight pressing me into the mattress is so much better. I roll my hips, seeking his cock, but he stops me easily, pinning my lower body with his.
“No, you’re not.” He sets his teeth against the spot he just kissed. “You’re not even a little sorry.”
He’s right. I’m not. I like pushing him.
My hands are pinned between us, trapped between our stomachs. I’ve played with bondage a bit over the years, but this feels entirely different. It’s almost primal. I want him to overpower me, to hold me down and fuck me into submission, to… I simply want everything.
“Jonas,” I breathe.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not going to be able to keep quiet.” I hesitate. “Cover my mouth.”
“Cover your mouth,” he repeats.
A bolt of pure lust overrides any thought. “Yes.” I nod as much as I’m able with his hold on my hair. “Cover my mouth. Hold me down. Fuck me.”
His chuckle is a rasp against my skin. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
I blink at the ceiling. Of course I’d like that. It’s why I brought it up. “Yes?”
“Cover your mouth and hold you down while I fuck you.” Another drag of his mouth against my throat. “Then you can pretend that you’re still a good girl. That you’re not a little slut who’s fucking a man she barely knows in her parents’ house. That you’re not dripping for my cock.”
The rough words have me moaning, and that’s when he moves again. Jonas releases my hair and covers my mouth with a rough hand. His lips brush the shell of my ear. “I’m not going to hold you down, Blake. You don’t get to pretend you’re anything but eager for what I’m giving you.”
He raises himself enough that I have no choice but to move my hands. I tentatively place them on his hips and slide them beneath his shirt to touch bare skin. Jonas releases a rough breath at my touch. “That’s right. Now be a good girl and lift your hips.”
My blood has turned to fire. I dig my heels into the mattress and lift my hips as he shifts back enough that his cock notches at my entrance. Jonas’s hand over my mouth tenses. “You gave this pussy to me, baby girl. That means if I want to fuck it bare, that’s what I’m going to do. You’re going to love every moment of it. Isn’t that right?” He lifts his hand just enough for me to answer.
It doesn’t matter that we already discussed birth control and test results before this moment. We’re playing a game, and in this game he’s going to fuck me dirty as if he doesn’t give a shit about the potential consequences. As if I’m a plaything for him, a possession to be toyed with until he’s wrung out every bit of enjoyment.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl.” He covers my mouth again and lowers his lips to my ear. “You remember the rules, Blake?”
If it’s too much, I tell him.
I could remind him that there’s nothing about this that’s too much, that I meant it when I said I want him to do whatever he wants with me. That we’re playing a game I’m only too happy to participate in.
I don’t. I simply nod against his hand.
Jonas shifts, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance. He’s big, wide, and thick. I can’t stop a whimper as he sinks into me a little, stretching me almost uncomfortably wide despite my earlier orgasm.
“None of that, baby girl. You can take it.” For all his rough words, he goes achingly slowly, tiny strokes that wedge his cock into me a fraction of an inch at a time. It feels never-ending. “You’re so fucking tight.”