“Do it already. It’s just a kiss —”
Jonathan’s hand wraps around my nape and he claims my lips. The softness of my curves moulds to the hard ridges of his body as his mouth takes complete control of mine.
His kiss is dominant and intense, like the rest of him. I’m a rag doll in his hold, my breathing and sanity stolen by his skin, his touch, and sheer power.
By the way his body becomes one with my own and the firm hold of his strong hand around my nape.
I’m a goner.
A complete and utter goner.
He angles my head back and ravishes me with growing intensity and need. Almost like he can’t stop. Almost like he’ll continue kissing me for eternity.
But he does. Stop, that is.
As he pulls away, he tests my balance; when my unsteady legs fail me, he grabs me by the waist to keep me standing.
His grey eyes clash with mine in a war of hurricanes and storms, and I realise then how fucked I really am over this man.
I was wrong. It wasn’t just a kiss.
32
Jonathan
It’s strange how change can happen so fast, yet it feels so slow.
Change is one of the things I control with an iron fist. Nothing is allowed to leave my grip, no matter how small or insignificant it is.
That’s how I keep my life and my kingdom in order. Some people need to be told what to do so that they stay efficient, and I’m happy to play the role of the whip that snaps them into shape.
Aurora calls me a tyrant. A control freak.
At first, she used to mutter it under her breath, but slowly, she’s been saying those things out loud.
I stand over the bed, where she’s lying on her side — my bed. She hasn’t left it since the day she manipulated her way into it two weeks ago.
Is it considered manipulation if I already knew her plan and still went along with it?
Probably not. But that’s how change strikes into your life. At first, it seems unnoticeable, like her toothbrush beside mine or her apple shampoo bottle on the shelf in my bathroom.
It’s as little as her scent with my clothes and the fact that I can smell her on me, even while I’m at work. Which is distracting as fuck, considering the blood that rushes to my dick whenever I think about her.
Then when you don’t control that change and let it loose, it becomes as serious as looking forward to coming home, to the point of cutting meetings short. It can also become as petty as pulling strings from the background so that an associate of mine would offer that Malik guy a job in a big law firm in the United States, making him scarce from her immediate vicinity.
Black Belt is the only one I begrudgingly approve of.
Even Harris will get a warning to stop joking around or arguing or whatever those two do whenever they’re in the same room. I don’t like how she finds it easy to get lost in an argument with him but forces her brain into overdrive when it comes to me.
Aurora is always thinking about ways to outsmart me and get what she wants. I indulge her and even let her win sometimes.
I know. I, Jonathan King, who makes sure to crush anyone who goes against him, is letting someone win.
There’s a good reason for that. Her expression lights up whenever she gets something from me, thinking she’s snatched it away. There’s also the way her breathing hitches when she asks me to kiss her or hug her as part of her demands.
The way she sneaks into my bed and mumbles half-asleep that I can punish her for it in the morning.
It’s those little things; the smile on her face, the awe in her stormy eyes, and the way she watches me.
The way she pretends I’m bugging her but then begs me to fuck her until she’s screaming my name.
The way she says I’m boring yet barges into my office and pushes Harris away so I’ll teach her chess.
“It must be a dull game,” she said while Harris grumbled in the background before leaving.
“Why would you think that?” I asked.
“Because you like it.”
“What will you do for me if I change your mind?”
She gulped and then threw her hands in the air, pretending to be engrossed in the board.
I did change her mind and she paid for that one with a rough fuck against the carpet with my hand around her throat.
At times, I say I’ll take it easy on her. That today, I won’t spank her or roughen her up, but whenever she’s in sight, all my resolve scatters into thin air. She brings out the intensity in me and makes me want to take her to unimaginable heights.
It doesn’t help that she screams for more, or that her body unravels around me like she was always meant to be mine.
She was.
She is.
I stroke a stray strand of her hair off her eyes with a finger. She’s hugging the duvet as if it’s my chest.
The line of her soft curves has a handprint from when I gripped her last night and fucked her raw. Her arse is completely marked by me and her tits have some hickeys. I like to leave my marks on her skin whenever I can. To see her all mine. To know she chose this willingly.
Her lips part and a soft moan spills free as she leans into my touch.
Fuck me.
This woman has the ability to drive me fucking insane, even when she’s sleeping.
I shouldn’t feel proud whenever she says I’m unstoppable, or that I’m nothing like anything she’s experienced before. But I am.
She didn’t tell me that with her own mouth, though. Aurora would never admit to that in front of me.
I overheard her conversation with Black Belt when they were lounging by the swimming pool the other day.
Which reminds me that I shouldn’t eavesdrop on conversations not meant for my ears. But when it comes to her, I do it anyway.
Aurora has come into my life like a wrecking ball, and there’s no way to stop the change she’s bringing on.
I could set her free, give her back the stocks and go back to my balanced life.
But a wild part of me rebels at the thought. Which is ironic, considering I was never a rebel.
My parents were the conservative, refined type. My mother participated in a million associations and my father was a businessman. My older brother and I were brought up to be leaders. Only, we took different routes to achieve that.
James was the rebel — the black sheep who cared more about sports and partying and drugs.
I cared about accomplishments. I lived my entire life aiming for more, but never got enough. It could be because I watched my father hit rock bottom after someone targeted the family business.
It could be because I also watched James spiral out of control after his head injury until he eventually slipped between my fingers.
After witnessing both of their early deaths, I decided I’d never let anything else slip out of my control.
So why the fuck am I letting Aurora sleep in my bed every night?
Her eyes flutter open and she blinks a few times before her focus remains on my face. For a second, she smiles, eyes easing and nose twitching. Just as quickly, she shakes her head as if realising she shouldn’t be doing that.
“Jonathan?” she croaks. “What time is it?”
“Late.”
“What?”
“You’re late. Your alarm went off fifteen minutes ago.”
She stares at the clock on the bedside table and groans, sitting up. Her tits are distracting as fuck when she changes position.