Page 16 of Jonny’s Redemption

I wasn’t sure if that terrified me or excited me.

By the end of the first night, I was heavily leaning toward happy.

“Mouth,” Jonny grunted.

That was not the first time he’d demanded I kiss him.

The first time, however, he hadn’t asked; he’d simply taken what he wanted. We were standing in the kitchen, I’d placed the empty beer bottles on the counter but I still had the silverware in my hand. About two seconds after Jonny’s mouth had touched mine, the forks and knives had clattered on the floor. That was a second after it hit me I was finally kissing Jonny or Jonny was kissing me as it were. And since I no longer had sharp objects in my hand I was free to touch, so I did. I’d wrapped my arms around him and held on while he sweetly, softly, tenderly introduced me to what a kiss was meant to be. It was sublime. It lasted a good long while. Jonny was in no rush; despite my eagerness to move things along, he kept me in the moment. His hands bracketed my jaw keeping me where he wanted me as he took me how he wanted. When he was done, he scooped me up and carried me to the bedroom.

I didn’t protest this. I didn’t bother telling him I could walk. There was something so endearing about him carrying me I settled into his arms and closed my eyes. Every step he took, I fell harder. Never had anyone made me feel special. Small, yes. Unworthy, absolutely. Protected, loved, cared for, not ever. But in Jonny’s arms after the best kiss of my life that was how I felt.

From there it only got better. So much better.

Fucking against the wall had been hotter than anything I’d ever experienced.

Jonny making love to me was out of this world.

Now I was so close to climaxing I was panting. My knees were hitched high, my thighs pressed to his sides. My arms wrapped around him, one diagonal across his back holding him to me, one hooked under his arm and my fingers were wrapped over his shoulder. And my breath was coming out in choppy gasps.

I couldn’t kiss him like he demanded because I could barely breathe.

“Can’t Jonny,” I moaned.

I felt Jonny’s fingers slide into my hair so he could right my head. He accomplished his task, never losing his slow, leisurely rhythm. The steady thrusts became harder but not faster. Once again, Jonny was in control of my pleasure and he had me where he wanted me—dangling close, almost there, ready to beg for more even though I knew he wouldn’t give in. He’d give me precisely what he wanted me to have.

And what he gave was good—the best.

Jonny lowered his mouth and brushed his lips against mine and that was the best, too. When he pulled back his gaze was intense. Icy blue flames. Glacial but burning hot.

God, I loved his eyes. Loved that they could convey a hundred things without words.

“I need you with me,” Jonny whispered.

“I’m with you,” I assured him and closed my eyes.

“No, baby, I need you with me.”

“Jonny, honey—”

My eyes snapped open but I didn’t get a chance to finish my statement. Gone were Jonny’s long, measured strokes. Hard, pounding breath-stealing drives. So deep, so fast I tightened my limbs and did the only thing I could do—I held on while I let go.

“Christ,” Jonny snarled and continued to power inside of me.

Grunts and moans filled the room. His and mine mingled together and I did everything I could to stay lucid. I didn’t want to miss it this time. Then he shoved his face in my neck and growled his release while I was still flying.

Together.

The best.

Bar-none, the very best.

Best feeling in the world. Jonny’s body damp with sweat pinning me to the bed. My arms around him. His hand fisting my hair. His moans vibrating against my skin. Us connected. Forget the orgasm, just those things, that was the best. The closeness I felt. The warmth. The desire. That was what I’d needed. What I never knew or understood. How the heavy weight of Jonny over me could make me feel so light.

I needed him with me, too.

Forever and always.

We stayed like that for a long time. Quiet, just catching our breaths, enjoying the last moments of being joined.