Page 30 of Jonas (Silver Team #4)

His cock twitched under my watchful eyes.

I felt that in two places—no, make that three: my sex, my nipples, and my lungs.

The last were working so hard I feared I was going to hyperventilate.

The first was wet and getting wetter by the second.

And I knew that, not just because I could feel it, but because my hand was right there and the tips of my fingers were slick with my desire.

I cupped myself harder in an effort to alleviate the throbbing between my legs. Incidentally, this didn’t work. It made it worse, way worse.

“Derrika,” he groaned.

I felt that groan in my womb.

“Don’t talk. I can’t take it.”

I clenched my thighs, and my finger pressed against my clit.

A whoosh of air escaped along with an “Oh, God.”

“Baby, look at me.”

That made my nipples tingle.

My eyes slowly journeyed up, taking in his boxed abs, the valley between his pecs, his Adam’s apple, his beard, his lips, and finally when my eyes landed on his, I sucked in a breath at the blatant desire swirling in those baby blues.

“You playing with your clit, Derrika?”

I wasn’t, playing , I was touching, but I was about to start.

I shook my head and clenched my thighs tighter.

Jonas tossed something in the sink. The sound echoed in the small bathroom, momentarily drowning out the sound of my heavy breathing.

His gaze swept down, pausing on my breasts.

He stepped closer.

I held my breath.

That breath whooshed out when his fingers curled around the wrist of the hand trapped between my legs.

Jonas leaned closer. His lips brushed over my temple, and there he whispered, “How wet are you, baby?”

I must’ve been having an out-of-body experience. Either that or I’d reached a whole new level of turned on, one I never knew existed, a place that made me bold and brazen.

“You tell me.” I pulled my hand free and lifted it between us, offering my fingers to Jonas.

With a feral rumble, Jonas took my offering. His tongue wrapped around my fingers, and if that wasn’t enough to make my sex (more) drenched, my breasts swell (more), my pulse pound (more), the way his eyes held mine as he sucked those fingers deep into his mouth would’ve done all that and more.

My out-of-body experience continued, leaving me reduced to nothing more than a ball of lust.

“Please,” I begged.

His tongue kept working my fingers, but the area around his eyes crinkled. No doubt—had his mouth not been occupied, his lips would’ve curved into a smile.

“If you don’t fuck me in the next two minutes I might die,” I pled.

With a swift jerk of my wrist, he popped my fingers out of his mouth. The wolfish grin I knew he’d hidden when his tongue was busy appeared.

“Two minutes?”

Now that I had the sexy rumble of his voice back, two minutes just turned into one.

“Is that question an admission you’re not up for the task?”

“No, baby,” he rasped. “But I don’t like to be rushed when I eat.”

Before I could process what he’d said, he used his grip on my wrist to pull me out of the bathroom, down the hall, then into the bedroom.

It wasn’t until Jonas’s hands were on my hips and he was hoisting me onto the bed did his comment register.

He wasted no time waiting for me to settle before he tossed my legs over his shoulders and dove in.

All the way in, leading with his tongue spearing through my wet, until he replaced it with his fingers, and latched onto my clit.

Sweet Mother of Pussy Lickers, Jonas Lang was a miracle. No, he was a master—a Cuntlicker Master.

Or was it cunnilingus?

He was both!

“Ohmigod,” I breathed.

With both hands fisting the sheets, I lifted my hips, reaching for an orgasm that was primed and ready.

He ate pussy better than he kissed. He ate like he was starved, like I was the last woman on earth and any second I’d evaporate into thin air.

“Jonas,” I moaned.

My thighs quivered with my impending orgasm. My stomach muscles clenched.

I was riding the edge when I lost Jonas and his magical tongue, not to mention his beard. He came up over me and my legs fell open. I felt him working a hand between my legs, but before I could protest, he slammed home.

My back arched off the bed and I cried out.

Holy.

Fuck.

“Jonas,” I whimpered.

“One minute fifty seconds. But just saying, I want more of that sweet pussy when I’m not courting your death on my conscience.”

He’d been counting.

I didn’t know if I should be offended he had the wherewithal to cogitate when I was out of my mind or happy he’d heeded my demand. I didn’t have time to contemplate, not when his big, thick dick was driving my climax back to the surface. Not when his hot, hungry eyes were boring into mine.

“Yeah, baby,” he grunted.

He hooked his hand around the back of my right leg and jacked my leg high. His next thrust was so deep I felt it in my womb.

I didn’t think it was the right time to tell him that sex had never felt this good. But, holy shit, sex had never, ever been this good.

Not ever.

I wasn’t sure which was better, the way he was staring at me and all that stare communicated, or the way his big body pinned me down as he fucked me, or the way his cock felt stretching me, or how much I loved the way our breaths sounded as they mingled together.

“Let go, Dee Dee,” Jonas whispered.

I shook my head, not wanting it to end.

Not any of it, but most especially the way he was looking at me.

He hooked my leg higher and slammed into me harder.

“Go, baby.”

With no other choice, I went flying over the edge into oblivion.

Pain and pleasure mixed into a concoction of euphoria.

Every part of me heated from the inside out as my orgasm ripped through me.

Jonas angled his hips, hitting a new spot, slowed his thrust and rode me through either the longest orgasm known to man or back-to-back orgasms, even though the first one never left me.

“Christ,” he groaned.

I was still riding that high when he pulled out, went up on his knees, let go of my leg, and wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked.

“Ohmigod,” I whimpered. That was the hottest thing I’d ever witnessed. “Come for me, Jonas.”

“Open.”

I was too enthralled watching him jack off to move.

“Now, Derrika.”

He pitched forward, used his free hand to wrap the back of my neck, and lifted my head off the bed.

It was then I understood what he wanted.

I opened my mouth.

His strokes turned rough and his voice was full of gravel when he warned, “Now.”

I shivered.

The first jet of hot come hit my tongue and I decided I liked his orgasm better than mine and mine had been astounding. But his sounded and tasted so phenomenal, I felt my pussy clench.

His hand on the back of my neck loosened, my eyes tipped up, and oh yeah, my orgasms were amazing but the look of raw possession in Jonas’s features was out of this world.

My head had barely hit the mattress when his thumb traced my bottom lip.

“Missed some.”

My tongue snaked out and captured his thumb.

His eyes flashed and suddenly possession morphed into ownership.

I loved that look on Jonas. No, I adored it. I wanted to feel that look for eternity.

“Christ, baby?—”

Whatever else he was going to say was cut off by my phone ringing in the other room. My real phone, the phone that only a select few had the number to.

“Fuck,” he snarled.

“Again?” I quipped, not wanting our moment interrupted but knowing it was.

Jonas rolled off me, bringing me with him, so when he settled on his back I was on top of him.

“Christ, this is worse.”

I went stiff and felt my heart start to shrivel.

“Worse?”

Now his eyes were flashing with something else and it was borderline angry.

“Yeah, baby, worse,” he confirmed. “I got one minute and fifty seconds of my mouth on your pussy. That’s about twenty minutes less than I’d like.

” Twenty minutes for oral sex? Was he trying to really kill me?

“I get inside of you and, Christ, Dee Dee, your pussy feels like silk, which means I’m instantly fighting my need to blow.

I get you to let go and your cunt squeezes my dick so tight we came damn close to a pregnancy scare.

Then I watch you swallow my come, and honest to God, I don’t know how I managed to keep my knees it was so fucking hot.

We get done and my dick wants more. I want my twenty minutes between your legs.

It’s arguable which one’s gonna win out.

Either way my dick’s hard and ready for round two.

So, I think it’s safer to roll over so the temptation of your pussy isn’t so close, but now I got your tits pressed to my chest—and I’ll remind you I still haven’t had time to taste those— and your pussy’s on my dick. ”

He was right. The way I was lying on top of him I could feel his shaft splitting my sex.

I squirmed.

One of his hands went to the back of my neck, the other came down on my ass with a resounding smack.

“Be a good girl.”

I was back to quivering.

“Now I wanna be bad,” I told him.

He put pressure on the back of my neck, bringing my mouth closer to his.

“You can be as bad as you wanna be tonight, baby. But now, I need you to roll off me so we can get dressed.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” That wasn’t a promise. It was a vow.

He sealed it with a scorching, albeit short kiss.

I rolled off.

I waited for the embarrassment to come, or at least a smidgen of modesty.

None came.

I was perfectly comfortable with our nudity.

Actually, if I was being honest, I didn’t just feel comfortable. I felt empowered. For the first time in my life, I felt free to be me. Just me without judgment or persecution. My reactions were mine . My feelings were mine . My body was mine .

All of me belonged to me.