“I thought you were hungry,” I whisper, too afraid to speak any louder and let my nerves show.
“Oh, I am.” Turning his head, he skims his lips over the inside of my leg, his trim beard tickling my skin. “Ravenous, in fact. And it’s your wet cunt on the menu.”
My hand flies to my mouth as he moves in, and I take a knuckle between my teeth, trying not to clamp up. A squeak comes from low in my throat when he parts me farther, cool air rushing to caress my newly exposed flesh.
“I’ve bloody dreamt about this,” Jonas mutters, his lips not quite touching me but creating little vibrations anyway, almost as if my body is buzzing with anticipation. “About your little pink snatch and how she’d taste.”
Knots thread through my insides, weighing me down while simultaneously making me feel airy. Buoyant, like if I was placed in a river I’d just float away.
When his tongue swipes in with a single, languid stroke against my clit, my knees buckle. He repeats the action, this time applying more pressure in the opposite direction, and my thigh pushes against his hold, nails digging into the wall behind me.
With his free hand, Jonas grips my foot still on the floor and shoulders his way beneath that leg. Rough palms travel up, cupping my ass as he drapes me like a rag doll over his body, sealing his mouth to my swollen flesh with a throaty moan.
“O-oh, shit.” I’m not even sure if I say the words out loud, but his grunt of approval makes me feel like he hears them either way. Or maybe he feels them, the way his beard scraping against my sensitive skin has a direct effect on my brain.
I short-circuit, panting and burning without a single thought aside from the need to come.
My pulse accelerates in time with my body temperature, rising at an exponential rate and making me dizzy. God, it’s been so fucking long, and never like this.
“What is it, love?” he says against me, circling with the tip of his tongue. “Do you like this? Me on my knees while you ride my face?”
“I’m not riding you,” I manage, arguing the finer points of things just because they’re all I can grasp right now.
He grins into my skin, teeth scoring lightly across my clit. “Let’s remedy that, shall we? Better hang on.”
My ass relies entirely on the support of his forearms as he dives back in, sucking and laving until my insides coil so tight, I think I might burst. Thighs quivering, I struggle to stay upright, shoving my fingers into his hair as he spears into me, massaging my entrance with a wet succulence I can hear perfectly.
A flush creeps up my throat as the lewd sounds fill the hall.
Gasping for breath, I fist his hair until my knuckles ache. He dips in and out, opening his mouth wider so he can delve deeper, and his sticky breath on my damp skin creates a friction I start to crave. My hips jolt, moving as if with a mind of their own, rolling slowly into his motions.
“There you go,” he says, retracting himself from my pussy just enough to offer praise. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
Knocking my head into the wood behind me as he plunges back inside, I nod, fervent as electricity creeps up my spine. Bliss collects at the base, radiating in hot waves through my limbs, and I pull his hair tighter, pinching my eyes closed.
“Jonas,” I whimper, so wet at this point I can feel it dripping down my thigh, though I’m not sure if it’s him or me or both.
Either way, I suppose it doesn’t matter, because he laps up the moisture before it can make a mess.
“Fuck me, you are beautiful. So terribly desperate to come, aren’t you?”
As I nod again, his fingers dig into the meat of my ass, encouraging me to grind harder. His lips capture me, rapid-fire lashes against the bundle of nerves making me cry out.
One of my arms twists up, clutching at the doorframe in an attempt to keep myself in place, and his hand slides up my side, pausing at my lips before breaching them. Two fingers press down on the flat of my tongue, and I gag at the intrusion, saliva flooding my mouth immediately.
It pools over, spilling down my chin as his feast grows louder, rougher, angrier.
“Give it to me,” he commands, sucking so hard I feel my soul begin to unravel. Withdrawing his fingers, he snakes his hand between my legs and pushes in, eliciting a startled moan from my throat. “Come on my tongue like you’re trying to drown me.”
His words and the rhythm of his strokes send me catapulting over the edge, and I explode into a frenzy of frayed nerves and kaleidoscope colors. My core clenches, my pussy convulsing around him as I writhe, grinding my tailbone on the wall.
After a moment of trying to catch my breath, I slump back, my hands falling limp at my sides. Jonas grins from between my legs, pressing soft kisses into my skin as he retreats.
“You taste just like I imagined,” he says. “It would not take much to get addicted.”
My face, already flushed from the orgasm, heats up. “No one’s ever…”
His brows shoot into his hairline, offense etching itself into his forehead. “Gone down on you before?”
“Preston said it was weird.” I shrug, trying to play it off.
“He said it was weird?” Shifting, Jonas’s forearms latch beneath my thighs, his hands hooking in my ass again, and he pushes to his feet.
I squeal, grabbing onto his head to keep from falling, but all it does is press him closer to my sensitive pussy. My clit pulses, ready for round two as he heads across the hall into the bedroom.
A single lick has my back arching. “Jonas.”
“I’m just showing you that the only thing weird about me eating your sweet cunt, would be if I didn’t want to.”
His weight is suddenly gone from beneath me, and I go sailing through the air, my back landing on the mattress.
“Let me be very, very clear, my little puppet.” Slamming his palms down on either side of my head, he looms over me, a predator who fully intends on enjoying every bit of his prey. “I want to eat it. I want to spend breakfast, lunch, and dinner drenching my chin between your thighs, doing my best to get my fill of you.”
Parting my legs, he fits his pelvis against mine. The friction causes me to buck up, and he repeats the motion, drawing a moan from my chest as his entire length rubs my clit.
“And when I’ve gotten my fill—a great feat, mind you, because I don’t think I’ll ever not be starved for your taste—I’ll spread you out, tie you to my headboard, and fuck you full of me.”
Jesus.
My tongue darts out, sweeping across my bottom lip. “Threat or promise?”
And for the first time since I met him, Jonas Wolfe smiles.
32
As I stare down at Lenny, watching her green eyes absorb every little detail about me, I realize this is it.
The time and place where I solidify my commitment to a hit. Up until this moment, I’ve skirted around what I want to eventually do with her father. Dodged my intentions with the girl herself, because the longer I denied my end goal, the longer I could pretend with her.
There’s no coming back from this. Frankly, it would be difficult enough to recover from the fact that I just had my tongue inside of her, but the full act of shagging bears far more consequence.
It makes this fake relationship somewhat legitimate—at least, one facet of it. Which means, if I kill her father, the fallout will be massive.