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She exhaled beneath me, her forehead beaded with sweat.
She hadn’t had an orgasm. I’d been so selfish. Again.
“Sweetheart, thank you for indulging me. And now”—I licked my lips—“I’m going to make it up to you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Melanie
Jonah’s cock was soft against my thigh. He moved toward me and kissed me—a gentle kiss this time, not the frantic, ferocious kiss he usually gave me. Now that he’d taken his sexual edge off, maybe he truly did want to see to my pleasure.
And I would let him.
He broke the kiss and inhaled, looking down at me. His eyes were nearly black and full of fire. “My God, you’re beautiful, Melanie. You look like an angel.”
An angel I was not, but I didn’t want to ruin this moment.
“And you look like the devil,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows.
“I mean that in a good way. There’s a darkness in you, Jonah, a darkness I seem to be drawn to, that I can’t say no to.”
He smiled then. “As long as you can’t say no.” He trailed kisses across my cheek to my earlobe, where he nibbled, and then he thrust his tongue into my ear canal.
I shivered all over, oozing between my legs.
Then he trailed his tongue down my neck and inhaled. “Mmm, you always smell like lavender.”
Lavender was my favorite fragrance and flower. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed the lavender plant on my night table. He was probably getting a good whiff from that as well.
He inhaled again. “I’ll never get tired of your scent.”
He continued to trail his lips down, over my shoulders, down my arms. He kissed each fingertip of my left hand and then went back up my arm. He kissed my chest and then stopped for a moment a
nd cupped my breasts.
I’d always felt woefully inadequate in that area, but he eyed them lasciviously, licking his lips.
“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to taste those red nipples.” He gave my left breast a slap.
I gasped. It didn’t hurt, actually. It just felt…different. And I was very afraid of different. Melanie Carmichael was a good girl. I grabbed his hand. “I…”
“What?”
“I’d rather you not do that. No one’s ever…done that to me during sex.”
“You don’t like it?”
I couldn’t say I disliked it. I just wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Mostly just uncomfortable. But how could I explain that to him? “I just would rather you not slap me. Period. On my breasts, my butt, anywhere.”
“All right, Melanie.”
Now I felt terrible. “I know a lot of women like it. But for now, please. Just don’t.”
He rolled over onto his back. Shit, now I’d done it. He wouldn’t want me anymore. Well, if he couldn’t have sex without a slap, maybe we weren’t meant to be together. We hardly knew each other, after all.
I looked over at him. “Are you all right?”
