My mouth falls open. “I want a replay later.”
“I’m so glad it’s you, Gabriella.” He’s past the horny talk, on to the romance, tugging me against him, teasing my nipples over my sweater. “I wouldn’t have been able to stand it any other way.”
“Jonathan,” I whisper, deliriously happy with how he’s touching me. “Me, too.”
Taking my hand, he sits on the bed and tugs me down, the fire dancing behind us.
I tumble onto his lap, staring down at Jonathan as he smooths errant curls away from my face and tucks one behind my ear. I slip my hand beneath his shirt, up his chest to rest over his heart, and then I kiss him. Our tongues touch, and it’s flint and steel, air rushing out of us, both of us toeing off our shoes, crawling back on the bed, attacking each other’s clothes.
“You smell incredible,” I whisper, burying my nose in his neck, breathing him in. “How do you smell so incredible?”
He huffs a laugh, but it turns tight and ragged as I lick his Adam’s apple, tasting his skin. “It’s just my bodywash. When I realized harsh scents gave you headaches, I stopped wearing cologne and switched to this instead.”
I sigh with pleasure, shamelessly rubbing myself against him, touching him, tasting him. “That’s unacceptably sweet.”
“I tried,” he admits, kissing a wildly sensitive spot on my neck, nipping my ear with his teeth. “In very stealthy ways.”
“Clothes,” I whine. “Off. All of them.”
He clasps the hem of my shirt and starts to lift. “Tell me, Gabriella. What you want. What you don’t. Promise.”
“I promise,” I tell him, kissing his jaw, palming him over his pants where he’s hard and tenting the fabric.
Jonathan peels away my sweater, then my shirt beneath, baring my breasts to him since I’m not wearing a bra. What was the point when he was just going to take it off anyway?
His hands shake as he glides them up my waist and gently cups my breasts. His thumbs circle my nipples as he kisses my neck, my jaw, my mouth. “How are you so beautiful?”
“Because I’m yours.”
“Mine,” he whispers, bending to kiss my breasts, dragging each nipple in his mouth with long slow sucks that send bolts of pleasure down my stomach, lower, where I’m wet and dying for his touch.
Pressing me back onto the bed, he tugs down my leggings. And when he sees me, he sucks in a ragged breath. His hands drift around to my bare backside and tug me closer. “I want to drive you wild,” he mutters.
I sit up on elbows, so I can see him better, watch his hands traveling my body. “Please do. You’ve been much too nice the past two weeks. I’m in withdrawal.”
Laughing, he presses a kiss to my hip, then my stomach. On the first, gentle kiss to my clit, I buckle and fall back on the bed.
He grins, looking supremely pleased. “That impressive, eh?”
I push myself back up. “Just slow down there, Mr. Frost. I have some undressing to do, myself.”
First I slip off his sweater, deepest jade, like evergreens at midnight. Then I peel off his tight, white undershirt, baring a beautiful, muscled body dusted in dark hair. I touch his hard chest and flat, dusky nipples. Then I kiss and suck them, making him groan.
When I get to his slacks, I stop myself. My hand rests at his hip, near his infusion site and the pocket where I see his pump. “Show me?”
“I—” He clears his throat. “I like to unplug, so I can move around freely and not worry about tugging on the tubing.” I watch him carefully as he disconnects the thin clear tube attached to his pump from the small disc adhered to his skin, then gathers it in his hand. “Just don’t let me fall asleep after you wear me out.” He flashes me a grin. “It’s best to plug back in afterward.”
“I won’t let you fall asleep,” I tell him quietly, softly tracing the V along his hip, up the strong muscles knit to his ribs.
Extracting the pump from his pocket, Jonathan sets both pump and tubing safely on the nearby coffee table. And when he turns back, I give him a long, slow kiss.
“What was that for?” he says.
“Because I wanted to.”
He smiles, recognizing his own words from the night he drove me home, the night everything started to change. “I wanted to do much more than help you into my car, Gabriella.”
“That feeling was mutual,” I tell him, pushing Jonathan onto his back. I lower his zipper, then drag his pants and boxer briefs down. God, he’s beautiful, all long, powerful muscles and a thick, jutting erection. I kiss his big, muscly thighs, his lean hips, every inch of him that’s hard beneath firm, warm skin.