Page 92 of Those Who Are Bound

She nodded. “How long until…?” She pointedly looked downward.

His brows hit his hairline. “What’d you have in mind, Miss Rork?”

With a low laugh, she pushed against his shoulder as she moved to straddle him, lying flush against him, her thighs riding his hips. His hands raised to her waist, holding her to him as she leaned down and kissed him, her breasts pressing into him. She lightly bit his lower lip, staring into his curious yet appreciative gaze.

She clued him in. “As I see it, I owe you two orgasms.”

His chest rumbled under her; the vibration shot straight to her core, and she ground herself against him on a yearning sound.

“I’d say it’s not a competition, but…” he started, smirking. “ButI wouldn’t want to deny you your competitive nature.”

Elliott smirked. “Good boy.” And she wiggled down, reaching between them, guiding him into her. She watched him, watched as his eyelids drooped. She shivered, her muscles tightening around him, causing him to buck upward on a gasp.

“Oh no, baby,” she chided with a bit of humor. “You just lie there; no moving.”

Jonah grinned up at her, enjoying the play. “Show me what you got, kitten.”

Elliott sat up, rolling her hips slowly as she watched him lose his breath. His attention dropped to her breasts, and then again to where their bodies were fused. She raked her fingernails down his chest and across his stomach.

She watched him as he watched her, moving up and down the length of him, taking her time. His cock was getting harder by the torturous second. And she must have been doing something right because he ground out, “Faster.”

She panted out a chuckle, the sound almost inaudible over the noise of the receding storm.

He looked up. She was looking at him, her lips parted with her small gasps for air, her gaze challenging. Furrowing his brow briefly, he grasped her wrists where her hands were planted on his stomach. “Tonight’s for fucking.”

She tilted her head and mouthed, feigning shock. “Such language, Jonah.” And she slowly rolled her hips again, punctuating the movement with a sigh.

On a growl, he bucked upward, startling a shriek from her, and then he rolled, pinning her under him. She immediately reared up against him, wrapping her arms around his waist, one hand grasping his hard-muscled ass, pulling him deeper. Ravaging her mouth, he barreled into her, thrusting hard and deep. She clung to him, holding him close, wanting his weight on her, wanting him to pound her into the mattress.

She rewarded his efforts by digging her fingernails into his buttocks, his back. She ran her hands over the play of his muscles, feeling the strength of him that was behind the movements causing her such delight. She cried out his name; she begged him for more; she tossed beneath him. She couldn’t get close enough to him; couldn’t get him deep enough in her. She pleaded with him, “Please. Jonah. Please, please, please.”

And when he gave her what she wanted, she arched in a convulsive cry against him, wanting to give him everything; the force of her emotions powering through her both terrified and exhilarated her.She hadn’t felt this alive in years. She’d never feltthisalive. Even as he spilled into her on his own cry, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, a sob ripping from her.

The first sob fell out of her, and the second quickly followed. Another built up behind it; she slapped a hand over her mouth as Jonah pulled back, a concerned look marring his brow. Horrified, she stared up at his confused expression. She struggled to quell her raging emotions behind her hand, and she gasped out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Jonah immediately switched gears, pulling her into his embrace, a hand to the back of her head as he cradled her to his chest. “Shh, Elliott. You’re okay. It’s okay.”

“No, I don’t know… I’m sorry. It’s not… I’m sorry, I’m being stupid,” she babbled and hiccupped against the emotions strangling her. She struggled to get away from him, so she could hide in the bathroom, compose herself.

“Stop. What did I tell you about apologizing to me?” he reminded her. He rolled them onto their sides, holding her firmly even as she continued to try to get away.

“Let me go,” she begged. “I’m embarrassed, I’m sorry.”

“No,” he said simply, gently. He caressed her back. “There’s a lot going on in your head. It’s okay when it backs up on you.”

“Not the time for it.”

She felt his huff of laughter in her hair. “I don’t know; I can always say I fucked you so good, I brought you to tears.”

She couldn’t help the small laugh even as she lightly smacked his chest, burying her face further against him.

Sobering, he said sincerely, “Don’t apologize for your emotions. We’ve had this conversation.”

“I’m sorry.”

He reached down and smacked her on the ass, startling a squeak from her. “Elliott! I just told you not to apologize!”

She was quiet for a moment, and then said sheepishly, “You have a very brutish side to you.”

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