Page 71 of Confessions of a Smutty Romance Author

I ran my fingers over his pecs, his shoulders. Held his face in both of my hands, the beginnings of his evening stubble rough against my palms.

Slowly, he pushed me onto my back, kissing down my jaw, my neck. His hands slid under my shirt, caressing the swell of my stomach, teasing along the bottom of my T-shirt bra. He traveled over my breasts, accessing them from the top, running his thumb over my nipple. Bit it through the fabric.

I gripped the back of his shoulders in pleasure, loving the way he made me feel so sexy, soadored.

He pulled at the bottom of my oversized T-shirt until he could see me underneath him. I never felt hot at this angle, with my breasts pulling apart, my chin doubling. I wanted to be on top, in power, but he looked at me like I was as sexy as ever.

I reached up, undoing the buttons of his shirt, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin against mine.

His eyes stayed on me the entire time, patiently waiting for me to finish. When I did, he pulled his shirt off himself and went back to kissing me, not in any kind of rush. He nipped at my lips, kissed my neck, slid his tongue along my cleavage.

I could feel the pressure building between my legs, the growing desire I had for him to be even closer. His length was still restrained in his pants, hard against my midsection as he kissed me.

He reached down, pressing his fingers over my sensitive spot, making my need grow even more.

Desperate to be close to him, I reached for his pants, undoing his belt and then his button and zipper. His cock strained against his underwear, leaving a dark wet spot at the tip.

I reached inside his underwear, pulling it free, and running my thumb over the tip. He moaned against my neck. “Baby, that feels good.”

“I want to make you feel good,” I breathed.

In response, he reached for the waistband of my leggings, pulling them away until all of me was naked underneath him in the bright living room light. There was no hiding. No covering up with his eyes on me like this.

Fear ripped through my chest. He was so close, seeing more of me than anyone ever had. Not just of my body, but of my soul. I could feel it in the way his brown eyes captured mine.

“Do you want to do it from behind?” I asked, my last attempt to protect myself from the edge I was about to fall over into unknown depths below.

“No,” Jonas said.

He pressed into me, and I moaned at the fullness of it, the way he stretched and filled me. He slowly pulled back before thrusting into me again, his eyes on mine the entire time.

I closed my eyes, trying to get lost in it all, but he said, “Open your eyes, baby. I want to see you. All of you.”

I opened my eyes, afraid of what I’d see, scared of what Jonas would see in me. But his brown eyes were warm as melted chocolate, his touch as gentle as if he held a precious stone. And there was a smile on his lips, a slight one, as if he saw everything he wanted in me. And I fell, deep, deep down into everything Jonas had to offer without me ever asking at all.

I clenched around him, getting closer and closer to the edge. “Jonas,” I breathed. His name a question, an answer, everything in between. “Jonas.”

“Mara.” He thrust again, coming with me as he said my name.

As he rested atop me, tears streamed from my eyes.

We’d done something I’d never done before. Madelove.

29

Jonas

While Mara slept on the couch, naked and covered only by my blanket, I sat on the chair and watched her. Empty bowls of ice cream rested on the table, and a soapy teen movie played on the TV. I was coming to find she could never stay awake through an entire film at night. It was adorable.

Her dark brown hair was messy and splayed against the cognac leather. Her lips were deep pink from all the kissing we’d done earlier and parted slightly to accommodate her gentle snores. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Something had changed tonight in her, in us. She’d faced me as we made love. Looked me in the eyes. And when it was over, she cried into my chest.

I didn’t say anything, because I knew how she felt. What we’d shared was... powerful. More intense than anything I’d experienced before, with her or anyone else. And fuck was I scared to lose it.

Because I knew deep down I could. She didn’t need me to be her fake boyfriend anymore. Jenny had said the studio would have papers for her to sign, sealing the deal for a second movie. The media wasn’t following her around to make sure she didn’t sleep with someone else. I knew Mara had a roster of other guys waiting for her. Hell, she could probably get out her phone right now and have someone ready within the hour, but she was here. With me.

My phone began ringing, and I carried it away from the living room as to not wake Mara. I answered the call and said, “Hello?”

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