Page 100 of Jonas

He knew, like Lore, that’s what I needed.

“I.” Thrust. “Choose.” Thrust. “You.”

My heart was threatening to explode from my chest. My eyes felt funny and the more I blinked the blurrier he became, until every emotion I’d ever bottled up leaked down my cheeks.

Jonas fell to his elbow and used his free hand to cup my face.

“No fortification. No barriers. No hiding,” he whispered, slowing his pace.

“No fortification. No barriers. No hiding,” I repeated.

“Me and you, baby. You’re safe with me always.”

There was so much pain in those words, so much more than promise—not an oath but a guarantee.

“You’re always safe with me, too, Jonas.”

“I know I am. I know I can be the man I am with you, because that man was made for you. Made to love you.” He slowly pulled out to the tip. “Made to be loved by love.” And equally as slowly glided in.

Oh, yes, Jonas was made for me. Just like I was made for him.

His hips swiveled.

I moaned.

Through my cloudy vision, I saw him grin.

Jonas unhooked my leg, pushed up above me, and on a rough demand said, “Feet on the bed, knees up, and spread wide.”

I didn’t delay following his command.

Instead of thrusting, Jonas planted deep, and rocked. Every pitch forward stroked my clit. Every movement drove me closer to the apex of pleasure. I tipped my head back on the pillow, saw the muscles in Jonas’s neck strain, watched as bliss and desire and need washed over his features. The need to submit to my orgasm was coming over me, yet I held back, not wanting to give in to the moment, wanting to stay right there with Jonas. Him hovering over me, connected in the most primitive way—mind, body, and soul fused together, making us one.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised with enough gravel in his tone to send me into a freefall of decadence.

I had heard there was a difference between a whole body orgasm and a vaginal one. I’d thought that was some bullshit to sell women’s sexual health books.

Holy fucking hell was I wrong. So wrong. Totally, absolutely, wholly wrong.

The intensity stole my breath.

My stomach muscles tightened, my thighs spasmed, my back bowed, I could no longer feel my hands or my fingers gripping the sheets.

I vaguely felt Jonas pull out. I was of no help when he flipped me over and positioned me on my hands and knees. The hum of pleasure was still ricocheting around my nervous system when he plowed into me from behind.

“Honey.” The word whooshed out of me.

One of Jonas’s hands clamped on my hip, his other hand rested on the small of my back holding me steady as his cock drove so deep I feared he was rearranging my organs.

“Jonas,” I breathed.

“You can take it, baby, tip your ass up.”

I tipped, he pounded.

I moaned, he growled.

“Fuck, Dee Dee. That’s it, right there, baby. I’m gonna come for you.”