Page 105 of Those Who Are Bound

He had something else in mind. “I was thinking I owe you a shower.”

Elliott looked at his cock. “I’m not sure if I should be scared or in awe.”

Laughing, Jonah leapt to his feet, grabbing her hand. “Awe, kitten; always in awe.” He pulled her after him toward the bathroom.

“Can a vagina be broken?” She wasn’t sure if she was teasing or not.

Pulling her into his arms, he answered devilishly, “Only one way to find out.”

“Oh my god,” she said, only in a slight jest as he turned on the shower.

As it turned out, when he pulled her under the steady stream, it was to kiss her gently and hold her, washing her hair while dropping kisses on her neck and shoulders. He cleansed every inch by running his calloused, soapy hands over her, pampering her skin that had been loved roughly. Her puckered tips he rewarded with lingering kisses and gentle sucks that left her grasping at his hair, arching toward him. He washed tenderly between her legs, cleaning him off her. And when she begged him to relieve the need he created in doing so, he merely rinsed her, kissed her, and handed her out of the shower and into the steam-filled room.

“Jonah!” she chided at being turned away, even though he wrapped her in one of her oversized white towels. It was no substitute for his arms and certainly did nothing for the craving he had created.

Jonah ran a finger along her cheek. “We have plenty of time.”

Her cheeks, already flushed with the heat from the shower and her arousal, darkened even more from embarrassment. “Makemelook like the insatiable one.”

He pulled her into his arms, his wet, spiky black lashes impossibly sexy. He said with wicked amusement, “Always leave them wanting more.”

Pushing up onto her toes, she rubbed her nose playfully over his. “You left me wanting on our first date.” Dropping back onto her heels, she confessed, “I barely made it into the house before I had to sort myself out.”

His expression fell into one of regretful longing. “I wish I’d seen that.”

She laughed and pushed lightly at his arm. “If you’d stuck around, you would have been the main event instead of a spectator.”

He acknowledged the truth of her words with a smirk and leaned forward to kiss her forehead, glancing over her to the mirror. He paused briefly before turning her. He indicated their foggy image. “We’re a stunning couple, kitten.” And he tugged at the towel, baring their bodies.

Elliott tucked herself into him, wrapping her arms around his waist as she turned to look at the hazy mirror. He wasn’t wrong.They were two darkly beautiful creatures: her trim, soft, and pale flesh pressed against his long, harshly cut, and tanned body, perfectly complementing one another. They fit together like intentional artwork. Her body dipped toward his as he held her, her black hair streaking down. She looked to him, but his gaze was roaming appreciatively over her high, rounded buttocks, his chiseled and lightly scruffed cheek pressed against her head. Their equally black, wet hair twined together so it was hard to tell where one’s strands ended and the other began.

Seeing their naked bodies in the mirror, feeling the full length of him flush against her skin, fire licked through her again. The hard planes of his stomach against hers, the intense heat of his penis pressed against her even at rest, nearly nestled where it seemed to be most at home, between her legs. Her cheeks blazed for what seemed like the millionth time in the past several hours.

He was looking back at her through the mirror, a knowing smile barely touching his lips. She felt the stirrings of another response against her belly, and she took in a cooling breath. His hand caressed her buttock; gave her a slight squeeze. Her body responded to his look, his obvious rousing, and his touch with a rush of wetness between her legs in eagerness to accept him.

But Jonah merely kissed her temple and stepped away. He retrieved the towel from the floor and re-wrapped her in it, drinking in the naked sight of her before he covered her up, his gaze flicking up to her as he tucked the ends together over her breasts.There was something lurking behind his eyes, an assessment she wasn’t sure she wanted to delve into the intensity of.

Cupping her cheeks, he asked teasingly, “Am I going to find the ingredients for French toast in your kitchen?”

Elliott regarded him dubiously for a second. Breakfast wasn’t what had been on his mind, but she allowed herself to relax, answering, “Bread, eggs, cinnamon, and vanilla? My god, you might!”

He laughed and raised his hands. “Miracle!” He moved away and glanced down at his naked form, running a hand over his hard, flat stomach, raising a brow at her. “I didn’t bring a change of clothes. Last night wasn’t planned.”

Elliott grinned devilishly. “I could give you an apron. That would fulfill a fantasy.”

Both brows hit his hairline.

She laughed. “I have some of Gage’s clothes.”

“Thank you. We’ll revisit the fantasy, though.” He followed her to the bedroom.

She went to the long dresser and knelt, opening the bottom drawer and withdrawing a pair of gray cutoff sweatpants. “These should do.”

Jonah accepted them even though she saw a quizzical look when he glanced at the dresser. Without voicing the question, he donned the cutoffs. On her brother, the shorts had hit his knees in a more fashionable way; on Jonah, they were a couple of inches shy. But they were still gray sweatpants, and they fit him like a pair of gray sweatpants should.

As she stood, he grasped the back of her head and gave her another kiss, then left the room.

Elliott watched him go; it was as though he had taken her oxygen with him. She wouldn’t have been opposed to staying naked with him all day; his body was magnificent. How he moved it against her, in her, was incredible. And he’d had her so hot in the shower—she was still so sensitive to external stimuli—that the thought was dancing around her head to take care of herself.

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