“Gabriella,” he whispers, yanking me close, kissing my neck, my collarbone, gently tugging one of my nipples with his mouth, then the other. “I want you to come.”
“I want us both to.” I smile as he pushes me onto my back and crawls down my body.
“You first,” he says, all growl and command that makes me spread my legs shamelessly wide. “Like this, huh?” he asks coyly, kissing his way up my thighs.
“God, yes. And I got tested recently. No STIs.”
“Same. On both counts,” he says softly. A pained groan leaves him as he strokes me with his fingertips. “Fuck, you’re wet. And soft. And gorgeous.” Then he drops down and drags me by the hips until I’m right in his face, and his tongue is exactly where I want it.
He starts soft rhythmic laps of my clit, then slips one finger deep inside, working me steadily, watching me, learning what makes me melt and moan.
It’s not fast for me, but Jonathan doesn’t seem to mind one bit. He licks and tastes and teases, strokes me with his fingers. He says every filthy thing I knew he would and a few I didn’t see coming, words that make my back arch, makes desire sing through my veins.
I’m hot and yet I’m shivering, pleasure swirling deep inside me, radiating out to my breasts and throat, my fingertips and toes. “Feels so good,” I whisper.
A deep, satisfied hum rumbles in his throat. “Good.”
“So good,” I tell him again, when he finds that perfect rhythm of his mouth and hands, his tongue swirling my clit, two fingers rubbing my G-spot. I arch off the bed. “Don’t stop. Just like that. Please don’t stop.”
Jonathan groans again, so clearly turned on by turning me on. He thrusts his pelvis into the mattress in rhythm with his fingers’ movement, his eyes shut like he’s in ecstasy. I want to watch him fucking the bed because he’s so desperate for me, but as he works me harder, faster, my eyes fall shut and pleasure spools, tight and white hot through my limbs. I bend my legs, locking them around his shoulders. Canting my hips against his mouth, I slip my fingers into his hair. “Oh God, I’m so close. Please, I’m so—”
I shatter, gasping again and again as he chases my tremoring hips with his tongue, stretching out my orgasm until I gently push him away, begging for no more.
“Gabriella,” he says, leaning over me.
“Jonathan,” I tell him breathlessly, drawing his hips close to mine. “No STIs. We covered that. I take the pill every morning.”
His thick length, dark and wet at the tip rubs against me. “No condoms?” he grits out.
“I don’t like the feel of them. I understand their importance, and I can use them if needed, but if you’re okay with not—”
“I’m very okay with not.” He cups my breast and moves against me, working me up to another orgasm with sure, slow strokes of his cock over my clit.
I’m so close, rubbing against him, begging nonsensically, until I finally manage to say, “Inside me. I want you inside me.”
Jonathan kisses me hungrily and starts to ease himself in, but it’s tight and I start to panic. His hand slips into my hair, massaging my scalp. He kisses my cheek, my nose, my cupid’s bow. “Relax for me, Gabriella.”
I moan at the command in his voice, feeling my body loosen responsively. Gently, he rocks in a little deeper.
“Breathe, beautiful,” he says against my ear, before pressing a long, hot kiss to my neck. He’s big, and it’s tight, but I’m wet, so wet, and he kisses me, praises me, until I feel him seated fully inside.
I grip his shoulders, arching up into him. “I need you.”
“I’m here.” He groans as he pumps into me, his grip hard and possessive on my hip. “I’m right here, and you are goddamn exquisite. Fuck, you feel so good. So tight and warm.”
Jonathan holds me close, stroking a place deep inside me that makes my breath catch, makes my hips buck into his frantically.
He wraps his arms tighter around me, his weight pushing me into the mattress, making me feel every nudge of his hips, the steady rub of his pelvis against my clit. He kisses my neck, my mouth, my breasts. It’s fast and desperate, and I start to shake beneath him, to buck and cry, and then I’m coming in such powerful waves, only his body can hold me down.
“Gabby,” he whispers. “Oh, God, I feel you.”
He pulls back and strokes into me, faster, harder, air rushing out of him. “I’m gonna come, Gabby.”