No, this ran deeper. Like she’d been waiting and pining and suffering without the weight of him on top of her. Without his mouth and flesh and breath.
She needed to the point of pain.
His tongue curled around her swelling button of flesh and she tore at the comforter. “Jonas,” she moaned. “We’re compatible. We’re compatible.”
A male laugh vibrated her nerve endings all the way down to her toes. He rode his tongue up the split of her sex and made a guttural, satisfied sound, before batting her clitoris like a predator with its cornered prey. “Even sweeter than it looks,” he muttered hoarsely, yanking her hips closer and laving her with the flat of his tongue, up and back until her head thrashed on the bed. “Ginny,” he growled, squeezing her knees in his flexing hands. “Try and be calm. I’m getting too…excited.”
The way he said excited made it obvious he was understating the truth by quite a lot, as did his eyes. They glowed so hot, the skin of her stomach and thighs was bathed in green. “It just feels so good,” she gasped. “Please don’t stop.”
He groaned into his next lick, using his lips to draw on her nub gently, in between strokes from his tongue. She felt the pad of his middle finger at her entrance and held her breath, the promise of being filled making her realize how badly she ached for it to happen. And when it did, when Jonas’s finger sank home, Ginny’s hips bucked wildly and Jonas visibly lost the battle with his control.
His muscles bunched on a rasp of her name, his fangs slicing out.
“Need.”
Knowing exactly what he meant, she relinquished her right hand’s grip on the bedclothes, sank it into his hair and instinctively drew him to her thigh. “Yours. It’s yours. I’m yours.”
With an expression rife with possession and unholy thirst, Jonas pressed a second finger into her body and bit down hard on her inner thigh, groaning brokenly at the taste of her.
Ginny whipped headlong into an orgasm.
It was all the more brutal and beautiful for its unexpectedness.
Her being didn’t know what to react to. His fingers sliding in and out of her wetness so expertly or the pleasure/pain of his fangs where they punctured her leg, drawing blood for Jonas to devour. One second the spot ached, the next it throbbed like an extension of her sex, sending pulsing ribbons of heat to the juncture of her thighs. And then only the pleasure remained, building and building like a funeral pyre until she screamed, bliss nearly crushing her in its intensity.
“Jonas,” she cried, her body arched in a near fit of pleasure. “Jonas!”
When his head lifted, she expected him to be sated, his hunger fulfilled. She never expected him to look as though he’d been teased. Slowly, he slipped his fingers from inside of Ginny, staring at them for a moment as if they’d been dipped in gold, before sucking them into his mouth.
Her hands moved on their own, trying desperately to get her dress off. She wasn’t sure where the impulse came from, only that she needed to follow it. Needed to feel his chest on her breasts, his stomach on hers.
She needed him inside of her.
Now.
The emptiness was relentless. Lord. Was it supposed to be like this? Like she would die unless he took ownership of her body and soul and never let her go? She could see she already owned his soul, body. Yes, he was projecting that truth in no uncertain terms as he prowled higher, knocking aside her hands where they tried to remove her dress and ripping it clean down the middle, instead.
“Every thought in your beautiful head is translated by this sweet body, love. I asked you to be calm,” he rasped, twisting the middle clasp of her bra until it snapped, then falling on her breasts like they were his last meal. “When you insist on rubbing your pussy against my mouth, you make it clear you’ll be eager when I get you underneath me and I will have no choice but to be rough.” He suckled her nipples in turn with a desperate mouth and by the time he finished, her legs were wrapped around his hips and she was begging for more, all of him, everything. “Please, Ginny, stay calm.”
“I can’t.”
A violent shudder moved through him, his muscles looking as though they could burst free of his skin. “Fuck. I have to stop.”
“No.”
Panic turned his eyes to moss. “I could kill you like this.”
“You won’t.” Ginny forced herself to relax and space out her harried breaths. Ordered her thighs to stop squeezing his hips, her hips to stop shifting. Teasing the distended fly of his jeans and tempting him to take was not helping his state of mind. “Kiss me,” she breathed at his lips. “We’ll slow down.”
His laughter was pained. “Kissing you won’t inspire me to go slow.”
“Look at me.” She stroked the side of his face. “Look at me.”
He pressed their foreheads together and sipped at her mouth cautiously. Their tongues met in a fleeting caress, just a touch, but he groaned like he’d been burned. Ginny slipped her fingers into his hair, scratching her nails along his scalp and let their mouths mate in a slow, rhythmic way that made her sex hot and needy. But she remained still, being seduced all over again by the restrained passion of his kiss, until she was finally rewarded by Jonas dropping his hips into the cradle of her thighs, the denim friction forcing her to trap a cry in her throat.
Jonas kept their mouths poised mid-kiss and reached down to unzip his pants, everything, everything balancing on a razor’s edge. Their eyes locked and remained that way while he drew out his shaft in a fist, cursing as it brushed her damp femininity. “I want to know if you’re hurting, love…” His jaw tightened to the point of near shatter. “But I also worry if you cry out in pain, my soul will leave my fucking body.”
She shook her head. “This is inevitable, remember?”
“Yes.”
“Then trust it.”
Affection, surrender, lust, moved in waves across his features. He fused their mouths together and trailed a hand down, down between their bodies, taking hold of himself and dragging the thick head side to side at her entrance. “Christ be with me, please. Hold me back,” he gritted out, before surging his hips forward and planting every hard inch of himself inside her.
His animal growl almost deafened Ginny, but she was thankful for it, because it drowned out her shocked whimper.
Pain pricked holes in the euphoria his mouth had bestowed. But the buzz of cradling his sex within her body was a thrill that dulled the edges of her hurt. She let her neck muscles loosen, let her lids drift down and reveled in the knowledge of what he felt like inside of her, huge and uncompromising. Male.
“Mate,” she whispered.
Jonas’s lust-fogged eyes found Ginny’s and she let him see her full comprehension of every facet of that word. Not only would she sustain his life, she would feed his soul—and he would do the same for her. Endlessly.
The wordless communication passed between them on the wings of velvet, sealing their fate in the history books and Jonas started to rock, his teeth bared, neck muscles straining. And the pain was no more, compared to her soaked welcome of this man’s flesh. This man whom she loved.
“Mate,” he croaked into her neck, his movements turning more and more frantic, his hips pumping and colliding with her eager ones. “My only. My only. Take me as deep as you can stand.”