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Fire seems to shoot through me. I feel my nipples tighten, my pussy clench, and my entire body feels like it's melting. I grip his shirt tighter, and I can't hold back the louder moan that climbs up from my chest.
I feel his fingers tightening in my hair and a groan rumble through his body. The fact that I can feel his reaction to me is even more heady than hearing it.
Then suddenly, he's lifting his head, looking down at me, breathing fast.
“Fuck,” he breathes. Almost as if he's just now realizing what we’re doing.
Instinctively, my hands tighten in his shirt, keeping him close.
I stare up at him, then say the first thing that comes to mind, “More.”
“Duchess…” The term has always sounded slightly affectionate.
Well, maybeafterthe first time in his bedroom when I saw him naked. There was a hint of amusement and maybe a touch of condescension then.
But ever since then, it has seemed almost a term of endearment.
Now it sounds dirty.
And I love it.
I nod my head. “Please.”
Now helooksas if I'm killing him.
Again, the little thrill of power and pleasure shoots through me.
“Jonah,” I say softly. “Please.”
He stares at me. Not moving. Not speaking. But I feel his fingers flex in my hair.
My heart is racing, and I'm breathing fast.
Then he growls, “Fuck it.”
The next thing I know, he's backing me up against the wall, and his mouth comes crashing down on mine.
This kiss is different. It's not soft and gentle. It's hungry. It's hot. It's consuming.
Both of his hands are tangled in my hair, holding my head still. His mouth opens over mine, and I can do nothing but open in response.
But why would I do anything else? I want to be consumed.
I want to be closer. I want him closer. I want everything.
His tongue strokes deep, sliding along mine, making all of my nerve endings spark to life.
My body heats, my nipples pull tight, my stomach clenches, my pussy throbs.
I want his hands everywhere. It's as if I have this ache, deep down somewhere I can’t exactly name, and I know I can’t reach, and I know that Jonah is the only one who can get rid of it.
His hands coast from my head down to my ass, and he lifts me, pressing me against him.
I haven't kissed, and I certainly haven't made out, or more, but I'm very aware that the part of his body pressing against my stomach right now is not normally that big and hard.
I remember that part of his body. I’veseenthat part of his body. I think about it far too often. And I’m really enjoying feeling it now.
I'm affecting him. A lot.