Page 63 of For Wrath and Redemption
“Jonah,” I moan, clenching around him as he curls his fingers. “Oh my God.”
He pumps his cock faster, and he doesn’t take his eyes off my pussy as he finger-fucks me. I gasp when his thumb presses on my clit, and as much as I want to watch as he plays with my pussy, I can’t take my eyes off his cock. The way he works himself. I want to touch him like that. I want to taste him. I want him inside me.
The thought almost sends me over the edge. My pussy clenches, and Jonah chokes out another groan.
“You’re going to come when I come, aren’t you, Trouble.” He starts to thrust harder, his thumb circling my clit faster, and I moan in response. “You’re going to come with me. You’re going to soak my hand with your cum, and you’re going to fucking ruin me. Every time I come, I’m going to think of this tight, perfect fucking cunt, and this tiny, swollen little clit, and your sexy, strangled moans. Is that your plan? Is that what you want?”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know if he’s talking sense. I shake my head and open my mouth, but all that comes out is a breathless plea.
“Please, Jonah. Please.”
My orgasm comes with all the subtlety of a freight train. My breath leaves me in a whoosh and my body bows, but I force my eyes to stay open. I don’t look away from Jonah’s swollen cock.
“That’s right. Squeeze my fingers like you’d squeeze my cock.”
I choke out a moan just as Jonah’s body starts to tense up. His muscles contract, his fingers curl inside me and stop pumping, and then he’s shooting his release all over his abdomen, painting his tattoos in streaks of white, glossy cum.
He pumps his cock until there’s nothing left, and then I bring my eyes to his face. He’s already looking at me. He’s not smiling, though. He’s studying me again. I give him a tight smile.
“Are you going to, um, remove your hand?”
He shrugs and makes no move to take his fingers out of me.
“I’m committing your pussy to memory.”
He states the words plainly, no humor at all, but I force a laugh anyway. It shouldn’t feel like a compliment, but it does. I look away and my attention falls back to his stomach and chest. At the glistening cum dripping down his sides.
And then I notice something else. I squint, then lean closer.
“Is that a scar?”
At the question, he releases me and gets off the bed. I grab a pillow and shield myself with it once more.
“Yeah.” He bends down and grabs his shirt, then uses it to wipe off his stomach.
“What’s it from?” I ask, and I don’t miss how Mr. Intense Eye Contact is refusing to look at me.
“Kidney transplant.”
“What?” I breathe out. “You had a kidney transplant?”
His answering laugh is dark. “I was the donor.”
He doesn’t say another word as he walks to the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. Minutes later, I hear the shower kick on.
I wait for him until it’s clear that I’m being avoided, then I stand and pick up my clothes from the floor. I tear up and dispose of the card from Conrad, then put on a new pair of pajamas and crawl into my own bed. I curl my body into a ball. I picture myself growing smaller and smaller, disappearing under the duvet.
For the briefest of moments, I felt beautiful. I felt desired. That moment is over now.
I fall asleep before he returns to the bedroom.
19
JONAH
I’m obsessed with her.
There’s no other way to explain how she’s invaded my mind, tormenting me with her presence while I’m awake and asleep. Nearly two weeks of nothing but Claire Davis in my head. Taking up so much space that I can barely see straight.
