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Ilovethat.
My hands go around his waist and I grip his back, holding him tightly. I arch closer, going up on tiptoe, trying to get more of me against him. But I can't. I'm too small, too short.
He makes another growling noise, this one sounding almost frustrated. I feel his hands go under my ass and then lift. And just like that, I'm up against the wall. My legs wrap around his waist automatically, my ankles hook behind him. None of this needs any conscious thought, it's just what my body wants.
And then I realize why. That big hard part of him presses between my legs perfectly, and oh my God,yes.
So I have to say it. I pull my mouth away. “Yes, Jonah.”
His mouth drags over my jaw and down my neck, his beard causing goosebumps to break out all over my body. Then he presses a kiss against the curve where my neck meets my shoulder.
“Jesus, you feel so fucking good.”
“You too.”
“I knew you would.”
I love that he’s thought about this.
“You're so sweet,” he rasps against my neck.
His hands flex on my ass, his cock rocks against my clit, andGod,I need more of that. He nips my neck and heat streaks through me. I let my head fall back against the wall so he can have more of my neck to…do whatever he wants to.
“So fucking hot,” he mutters. “I can't believe?—”
Then it occurs to him that we’re doing something I've never done before.
I know that’sexactlywhat just hit his conscious mind.
Not that it's a new thought, but it sinks in.
Dammit.
I knew it would eventually. If he knows that I have not had a UTI in the last several months, and he's taking credit for that, he's going to remember that I've never been kissed and remember every detail about how I react when he’s the one to finally do it.
I feel the moment when his sense of responsibility and loyalty come back to him.
He pulls back, looking down at me.
“You okay?” he asks.
I give him a wobbly smile. “Yeah. Really good.”
But also kind of bad. Because I realize I know him pretty well by now, too.
And he’s not going to do this again.
He takes a deep breath and blows it out, then lets me slide to the floor.
He looks at me for a long moment, lifts his hand, and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. Then he steps back and runs a hand over his beard before tucking his hands in his back pockets.
I stoically keep my eyes on his face rather than scanning over his body to that very prominent part that I liked having up against me far too much. I can close my eyes and remember the details of his body naked. I’ve done it many times before. But I keep looking at his face instead.
“You see what I mean about my grandma's cake, then?” I finally ask.
He nods. “I really fucking do.”
Yeah. I am definitely going to miss having this.