“I won’t let you hurt me, Jon. You think you might hurt me, but you couldn’t. Trust me on this.” Keeping her hand on his cheek, she lifted herself on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
A kiss on the cheek. Considering the image that had been buzzing around in his head—holding her still with his hands while he hammered into her—a kiss on the cheek was nothing. Not even scratching the itch.
But—it worked, somehow. The buzzing in his head and the almost violent sexual images floating around inside it slowed, disappeared. What was left was a soft humming and images of gentle kisses and slow, tender movements.
Yeah, that was it.
Before that nasty buzzing could get going again, Jon moved forward and she shuffled backward until her knees touched the edge of the bed. “Lie down, honey.”
She obeyed. Robb and his Anna hadn’t made the bed before fleeing, so Sophie settled down on rumpled sheets. They were flowery and made a nest around her so she looked like a pearl on a bed of roses. Her skin glowed, pale and perfect, her dark hair tousled around her head. Long, slender, graceful limbs. Soft eyes looking at him, waiting for him.
His limbs moved jerkily as he lay down next to her. He wanted inside her like he wanted his next breath, but she was just too beautiful. He wanted to feast on her for just a little while more.
Stretched out at her side, Jon touched an eyebrow with the tip of his forefinger. Just the lightest touch. Everything about her sent him into sensory overload. Every inch of her body called out to be looked at, touched, kissed. He’d start slow, just like he promised.
He followed the dark graceful eyebrows. His finger traced the perfect oval of her face, lingering on the dimple in her slightly pointed chin. Next, her lips, velvety soft. They opened at his touch and she breathed in deeply. She followed his eyes as he looked at her, finger tracing her jawline, then down across the delicate collarbones. She was flushed, light rose over pearl.
Jon’s eyes dropped as did his finger, down over the center line of her body, between her breasts. Up again, to lightly circle her nipples, now a deep rose color. When he stroked her breast his thumb ran over the velvety skin of her nipple and she shivered.
“You like that?” Jon whispered, unable to take his eyes from her breasts.
“I like it all, Jon.” Her voice was low, too, though there was probably no one within a radius of fifty miles. No one human, anyway.
He bent quickly, licked her nipple, keeping his hand on her belly. When he licked it again, her belly muscles contracted. He let out his breath in a long, slow release.
He liked that he was engaging in a little foreplay but this was more about him, really. His trying to gain some control. These slow movements, step by step, were helping him.
The tip of his forefinger ran along her side, where she narrowed to a ridiculously small waist then flared out again. She was as perfect a woman as he’d ever seen in his life. Then over her belly to the belly button, the cutest little innie ever. It made him smile just looking at it.
His big, tanned, scarred hand looked like a blunt instrument on her velvety skin. It was the most erotic contrast possible.
His eyes rose to hers now because he was going exploring in a place where he couldn’t see so he wanted to watch her face. The finger went down, down. She didn’t need for him to tell her to open her legs. They opened automatically, her heels making a swishing sound on the sheets. Jon kept watching her eyes but he had excellent peripheral vision and she made this luscious picture on the rose-patterned sheets, skin flushed all over, cherry red nipples, the lips of her sex shiny and open.
For him.
He touched her there, as delicately as he could. Such tender, tender flesh and his hands were so callused. But there was no abrasion because she was so slick, so ready for him. His forefinger slid into her and she just closed around his finger like a little mouth. He pulled out a little, pressed in and she gave a little sigh.
Again, and again. Then her sex clamped around his finger in one convulsive pull that showed again in her belly muscles.
If he were a gentleman, he’d let her climax around his fingers, then he’d go down on her and make her come again and then and only then he would mount her.
But he wasn’t a gentleman. Not in any way. He slid his hand out from her and pulled her thighs even further apart, moved over her and slid into her, all in one smooth hard motion.
They both stilled. He was fully on top of her, trying to keep some of the weight of his torso on his forearms. He tilted his head forward until his forehead met hers.
“That feels so good.” Her voice was low, warm and rich.
He nodded, his head against hers.
“It would feel even better if you moved, though.” Her lips curved in one of those mysterious Mona Lisa smiles only beautiful women knew how to produce.
He exhaled slowly. Pulled out. Pushed back in. It felt like heaven. He was finding it hard to pull out because it felt so good just being buried deep inside Sophie, where it was warm and tight and welcoming. But he tried it again. It was awful pulling back, fantastic sliding back in.
Again.
His movements weren’t smooth and steady as they usually were. They were jerky, rough. He was barely in control of himself, moving on instinct alone.
Sophie lay her hand on his butt and directed his movements, guiding him until he was able to control himself enough to smooth out his thrusts. Oh yeah. It was better this way, much much better. He’d lost himself for a moment there, but he came back into himself. Just enough.
