Page 21 of Invisible Scars
My hips start rocking against his hand, trying to get his thick finger to the right spot, but Jonah grinds his hand to a halt. “More, Jonah.”
“Let me take care of you, Effie,” Jonah says, sweeping a few strands of hair away from my face. “I’ll give you everything you want, but you’ve got to let me.”
I take in Jonah’s handsome features. Up close, I can see the fading scars, as if a thousand minuscule shards of glass flew at his face.
Sensing that I’m not resisting, Jonah resumes his slow strokes, working me higher before adding another thick finger, pushing them deep, moving them in a way no one’s ever done to me before and evaluating my reaction to each stroke, every vee and curl of his fingers assessed and reassessed for optimal delivery of pleasure.
Jonah’s entire body rocks with the motion of his fingers, his tongue occasionally swiping through my mouth to steal tastes of my moans. He’s rubbing all the right spots causing my nerve endings to pop with pleasure,so close, pumping in a relentless rhythm that’s shrouding my brain with a fog —almost there— then adding a third digit in a slow and deep stretch that has my body arching off the bed with a desperate cry.
“So beautiful,” Jonah whispers with awe before lightly tugging at a sensitive nipple with his teeth, his eyes never leaving my face. “So much better than how I pictured in my head.”
“You’ve thought of me like this?” I ask, gasping when he changes the position of his fingers and brushes over that magical spot inside me.
“All the time, Effie. I’ve been thinking about you falling apart for me every single time I’ve jacked off since you came to Columbus,” he answers, his thick fingers slicking in and out of me faster and faster. “Do you ever think about me?”
“Yes.” Jonah presses deep, adding the stroke of his thumb to my clit. “Oh, yes, yes.”
My cries of release fill the space around us as he watches me come undone, those dark eyes full of amazement, still intently focused on me even as his fingers slow to a caress. I’m mesmerized by the depths of his gaze, by the feeling of having him wrapped up in me so completely, and I reach out to touch his cheek.
“I thought about you earlier tonight in the tub.”
Jonah claims my mouth with a low growl, swallowing my whimpers when his wet fingers brush over the sensitive bundle of nerves between my thighs in teasing strokes.
“What is it you said you wanted?” he grits out, sitting on his heels and catching my ankles. He pulls me closer and spreads me wide as his thick cock bobs in my direction, leaking pearly pre-cum while his hungry gaze roams over my body. “That I make you come all over my face?”
“I wa…” my words come out fractured, shaken by this consuming desire, and I reach out to take him in hand. “Want you. To taste you."
Jonah’s eyes seem to ignite with a wild flame, his hands tightening around my ankles and spreading me even wider, bending down and kissing me deep between my legs.
“Joe,” I gasp, hands weaving into his hair as he continues to use his mouth on me.
“Fuck, Effie,” he says in between licks. “I could eat your sweet pussy out all night.”
“Yes,” I moan, arching into the pleasure, and Jonah buries his face between my thighs again, rolling us over so I’m on top of him and squeezing my ass, guiding me over his face. “Oh,oh!”
“Come for me, Doll,” Jonah says in a muffled voice before latching on to my clit, and I unravel under his talented tongue with loud gasps and moans.
“Fucking perfect,” he growls, moving his hands from my ass to my waist. “Turn around.” It takes me a second to realize what he wants, and I look down at him inquisitively. “I’m barely holding back from burying my cock in that sweet pussy of yours and feeling you come all over it, Effie, but I want to see all your fantasies through. So, turn around and sit on my face. Now.”
His commanding tone edged with desperate desire sends a jolt of pleasure through me, and I can’t help but comply despite never being in this position before.
Once I’m straddling his head, Jonah’s nose rubs over my inner thigh, teeth grazing my skin in tantalizing slowness before he inhales deeply, releasing the breath with a satisfied groan. “You smell like heaven. Pure woman.”
With a shaky moan, I lower my head and run my tongue over his shaft, circling the crown and tasting the saltiness.
“And you taste like pure man,” I purr, palms smoothing down his thighs.
Jonah’s breath hitches. He tries to hide it by continuing to stroke my thighs, but his touch is different. I realize my hand is over the deep scar on his right thigh, and it’s the only explanation I can think of as to the change.
It’s been three years since his injury, and in the past year, I’ve seen him take blows to this exact spot while we train, so my light touch can’t be hurting him.
I suspect it’s about having this part of him involved in an act of intimacy that means something because, whether or not I want it to, this thing with Jonah never was and never will be meaningless.
I bite my lower lip, thumb tracing the damaged flesh, which somehow makes this man even more perfect, hoping he understands what I’m saying without words, that he won’t retract into his shell at my overt touch. Then I lower my head and press my lips to his scar.
“Effie,” he whispers in a voice thick with pain and grief, almost as if he’s begging me to stop. But I won’t. I won’t ever shy away from any part of him.
“Please, Joe,” I murmur, feeling heady and determined all at the same time. “Let me have you. For one night, let me have all of you.”
