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If she had been asked, she would have objected to a lover using dirty words. Yet Jonah’s vulgar, delicious descriptions heightened the whole experience. Every time he growled “fuck”, or whispered, “your pussy feels incredible,” or grunted, “damn my cock feels so fucking amazing buried inside you,” her core became even more wet.
The things he did to her senses were awe-inspiring. It wasn’t just her well-used pussy. Brontë’s breast had never felt so full. They were so heavy, and her nipples had never felt so sensitive. The ache had her desiring him to both stop and keep pinching them.
Did he just lick her back? Shit, he nibbled her shoulder. It was all… so much. So close. Her release was just in reach, but Jonah kept it at bay. She was certain of it. The man, that had been working her body with such skill, knew how to bring her release. Brontë hadn’t been certain she had another one in her. He had convinced her that she did.
“Hey Angel, I promise you can handle just one more.” Her head vigorously shook in denial. “Trust me. You can handle just one more.”
His onyx shimmering orbs had been so confident. She’d allowed him to talk her into it. Now that she was on the verge of her release, her senses ravaged, she wasn’t so certain.
“Jonah, I don’t—”
“I’ve got you. I promise to make this so good for you. Trust me, Angel.”
Her body shuddered at his words.Oh goodness.She trembled as he pulled his iron length from her core and spanked her cheek once, twice. Then slammed back into her pussy with so much force, her elbows gave way. Before she could register the new position, her overly sensitive clit was smacked, as he commanded, “Now, Brontë! Cum all over my cock.”
Her body did the bidding of its maestro. The torrent freed from her core seemed to pour from her pussy. Jonah’s grunt of, “fuck yes.” Signalled, he had joined her in the abyss. It triggered her body to break out in goosebumps as she alternated between spasming and griping his spent cock. It was all too much…
What the fuck was happening to her?It took her a moment to register that she was crying. Even longer to realise that she was sobbing.
“You’re okay Angel.” Jonah crooned as he pulled out of her. She found herself cradled in his lap. She shut her eyes, hoping to dull the sensation. Kisses were pressed to her temple as he soothed. “I’ve got you. You did so well, Angel.”
Part of her wanted to demand that he let her go. The other part understood she needed Jonah’s comfort… that if he didn’t hold her, she would tumble into the shadows.
What the hell did he do to me?Was her last thought before she slipped into darkness.
Water was running in the distance. It was the first thing she registered as her senses roared to life. Brontë felt her head being cushioned by a pillow. Her muscles… her entire body felt like she spent time with her personal trainer, whom she dubbed a sadist. A sweet soreness hummed in her core. Physically, she felt well… used. It felt good. Emotionally? She felt raw and exposed.
“There you are,” Jonah greeted as he exited the washroom. His inky hair appeared wet. He looked freshly showered and… unlike her, relaxed. He wore a pair of black sweatpants low on his hip. Damn, he looked good. Her thoughts were so preoccupied with sweatpants season, she didn’t know when he produced another bottle of water.What was he the H20 Police?Before she could form her refusal. “It’s important you stay hydrated.” He insisted.
Gone was the command in his tone, but he was still firm. It was easier to comply. Once she had taken a few sips, he took the bottle and placed it on the nightstand.
Now Jonah was a well-built man. His deceptively muscled abs were on full display. There was no way when he was clothed one would guess he was that defined.
What the hell is going on?Brontë had been so preoccupied with his Adonis belt that she hadn’t realized his intent until she was scooped up in his arms.
“Hey,” she protested.
“I’m taking you to the washroom. You can use the facilities and then have a soak.”
“Excuse you, I have legs.” The bark in her tone would have had a lesser man feeling some kind of way. Jonah just shrugged it off.
“You do, and they are sexy as hell, but you don’t have to walk. I’m here.” He gingerly placed her on the porcelain throne. She immediately began to pee. The stream was loud and long. Of course, it was all the damn water he kept giving her. Ugh, he looked pleased with himself as he walked away to turn off the water running in the tub. His ass, though.
The aroma of the washroom assailed her. The smell positively divine. The Lancaster Boutique was high-end but there was no way the essential oils that filled the air came from the hotel. Bergamot, Oud Wood and Peony awakened her senses. While his back was to her, she wiped herself and flushed. He immediately turned and headed in her direction.
“Oh no, stay where you are. I can get up myself.” Whew, her legs were unsteady, but she wouldn’t admit it as she cautiously made her way to the sink. She ignored the large, smirking man, who had his arms folded over his chest.
“Ready for your bath, Wonder Woman?” Ugh, Brontë wanted to tell him to go to hell, but the smell of the soothing oils beckoned her. She walked towards him and took the hand he held out to her.
The temperature of the water was perfect. It bordered on boiling. It was just the way she liked it. She sighed as she submerged herself in therapeutic oils. Jonah gathered her locs in a hair tie and secured them in a bun on top of her head.
“Enjoy.” He said as he walked away. The light dimmed, and what she could only describe as spa music played. Lulling her into a relaxing state.
“Thank you for this Jonah.” It seemed he had thought of everything. She allowed her eyes to drift closed.
Brontë lost track of time. A gentle tap had her eyes fluttering open. He offered her a small piece of fruit, and she hadn’t realised she needed it until the first bite of strawberries. Nodding at the bowl, Jonah handed it to her. His instruction was clear. She nibbled at the fruit as he bathed her with a cloth.
Part of her wanted to object, but it felt so good. The torrent of emotions that she felt seemed to fade into the background. She was so used to taking care of everything. Everyone. It was damn near euphoric to have someone anticipate her needs. The confidence with which he did so was a balm to her soul.
