Chapter Six
Gabby
Once we’re in the elevator to his apartment, Jonathan wraps his arm around me, my hand still clutched in his so my left hand is behind my back. He pulls me close to him, tipping my chin up with his free hand to kiss me. It’s another slow, sweet kiss, but I want more. More tongue. More hunger. More him.
He groans when I thrust my tongue into his mouth, going up on tiptoe to press myself against him. I can feel him getting hard against my belly, and I slip my hand between us to rub him over his jeans.
“Christ, Gabby. We’re in an elevator. You realize there are cameras?”
My eyes snap open, and I take a step back. But his arm around me stops me from going far. His green eyes are dark with lust, but a smile plays over his lips. “The security guys here are pretty trustworthy. But there’s always the chance that one of them could sell stills to the tabloids. Or worse, video. I was keeping it PG on purpose.”
“Oh, shit.”
He laughs and ducks his head to kiss me again. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. I like when you take what you want. But wait to rip my clothes off until we get inside my place, okay?”
I nod, burying my face in his chest, waiting for the ding of the elevator. We practically run to his door, and it’s a race to see who can get their key out the fastest to get the door unlocked. I have the advantage since my right hand is free.
We stumble in, and Jonathan shoves the door closed, flipping the deadbolt. He stares at me for a second, his chest rising and falling. And then he’s on me, his hands on my face, in my hair, his chest pushing into mine.
I clutch his T-shirt in my fists, and I don’t know if I’m trying to hold him closer to me, pull myself closer to him, or tear the damn thing off altogether. I just know that it’s been so long—too long—since I’ve felt his skin on mine, his hands in my hair, him inside me. And all I want is him. I can’t get to him fast enough.
With one hand still tangled in my hair, his other slides down my back. Gripping my ass. Under my shirt. Never staying in one place for more than a few seconds. He tries to fit his fingers down the back of my jeans, but they’re too tight. With a growl, he yanks open the button of my jeans, the zipper going down with the force of his pull. Now he has room to work. His chest presses against mine, his body pushing me back as his hand finds its way down my pants.
I’ve given up on his T-shirt and wrap my arms around him, my hands on his back, my short fingernails digging into his skin. He tips my head back and presses his lips to the left side of my throat, where my pulse races, over the mark left by my violin. He sucks on it lightly, then pulls back with a grin. “Should I give you a hickey on your violin hickey?”
Shaking my head, I pull back. “No, thanks. I’m pretty sure everyone would be able to tell the difference.”
“Too bad. I’m jealous your violin gets to leave marks on you and I don’t.”
That makes me laugh. “I think that’s the first time anyone’s been jealous of my violin.”
He gives me a crooked grin as he maneuvers us the rest of the way into his room. Peeling my tank top over my head, his eyes roam my body as I unhook my bra and let it fall. He shoves my jeans and panties down, pushing me onto the bed to get them the rest of the way off. Standing, he traces a finger down my torso, between my breasts, sliding off to the side to grip my hip as he leans over me, kissing me hard and fast. “Maybe I should find somewhere else to leave a mark.”
My breath catches. “You really want to do that?”
His green eyes flash, and he dips his chin in the barest nod of acknowledgement. “God, Gabby. I’ve missed you. And some primal part of me wants to mark you as mine.”
The slightly nervous laughter dies in my throat when I see the look in his eyes. Glossy with lust, yes, but also somehow feral. It’s not a look I’ve seen before. But then, this is the first time we’ve been apart this long.
“Take off your shirt,” I whisper. He reaches behind him and yanks it off without hesitation. Then he unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants, leaving them loose around his hips, his erection still covered by his navy boxer-briefs.
He caresses my knees, sliding up the insides of my thighs, pressing them apart as he sinks to the floor between my spread legs. I lean back on my elbows, giving him plenty of access but still able to watch. He kisses his way up my right thigh, scraping his teeth over the tender skin at the fullest part before doing the same to my left thigh. Pulling back, he smooths his hands up my legs again, soothing the faint sting from his teeth. His fingers part my lips, sliding inside, finding me wet for him, then up and over my clit, spreading my juices around and ramping my arousal even higher. My head falls back and my eyes close as I enjoy his fingers on me and in me, curling up to reach my G-spot while his thumb takes over on my clit. I’m waiting to feel his tongue, and when I don’t, I lift my head to see what he’s doing.
He kisses the inside of my thigh again, then nips it with his teeth, just below where it joins my torso. “I think this would be the perfect spot,” he whispers against my skin.
My eyes widen. “The perfect spot?”
His eyes gleam with that same feral light, and I know he’s grinning even though his mouth is covered by my leg. I cry out as his hand works me harder, pressing and tapping against me on the inside as his thumb scrubs over my clit. At the same time he latches onto my thigh, sucking deep, and I know he won’t stop until he’s marked me. Worse than my violin. I writhe against him, wishing his mouth were a few inches over, but his fingers know how to play me just right, and his other hand fastens around the outside of my thigh, holding me in place for him.
I collapse back on the bed as an orgasm rips through me, my arms no longer able to support me, my muscles shaking, my thighs clamping closed on him, forcing my skin deeper into his mouth, intensifying the ache, which only plays into the pleasure-pain feedback loop he’s started.
His fingers keep moving, slower, his thumb running next to my clit instead of over it, since he knows I’m super sensitive now, but he doesn’t stop altogether. Releasing the suction on my leg, he pulls back to examine the results of his work and places a gentle kiss there. “Perfect,” he whispers.
Before I can sit up to examine it myself, he stands and pushes off the rest of his clothes, stepping out of his jeans and boxer briefs together, his cock now at eye level. I wrap my hand around it, tugging him closer and giving him a squeeze. Glancing up at him, his green eyes are still dark with lust, but he looks more like his normal self now.
“My turn?” I give a half smile and arch an eyebrow.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “I have photoshoots coming up soon. I can’t afford to have hickeys anywhere.”
My hand drifts down over his balls, then strokes the fine, fuzzy hair on his upper thighs. “Not even here? It seems fitting, right? That we have matching hickeys?”
Running a hand through my hair, he bends to kiss me and urges me farther up the bed. “It would be fitting. But I’m pretty sure at least one photoshoot has me in briefs, if that. I can’t even have one there.”
He laughs at my pouty lower lip and sucks it into his mouth, biting at it gently. “Are you really that upset?”
I shrug a shoulder. “A little.”
Laying me back and covering me with his body, he slides his hands up my sides. “How can I make it up to you?”
His bare cock is nudging at my entrance, and I arch against him, rubbing my nipples against his chest. “Mmm. I’ll have to think about that.”
He reaches for a condom and rolls it on, positioning himself over me again. “Well, while you think about it, I’ll get started on another orgasm for you. Let me know if there’s anything else.”
Wrapping my legs around his hips, I rise to meet him, a gasp escaping me as he fills me for the first time in forever. “Oh my God.”
He groans and chuckles at the same time. “Christ, I’ve missed you.” He pushes inside me again. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“You feel huge.”
A smirk crosses his lips. “Say, ‘Oh my God’ again. I need to hear you chanting it as you come a second time.”
He thrusts into me again, harder this time, and even if he hadn’t told me to, I would’ve said it anyway. “Oh my God.”
His hand goes between us, his thumb once again on my clit as he pounds into me. His pace isn’t gentle or restrained. It’s frantic and hard and everything I didn’t know I craved from him. We’ll have time for gentle, sweet lovemaking later. This is all about slaking our thirst for each other.
I clutch at his back, my nails digging into his skin. All I can do is hold on and take what he’s giving me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
As his pace speeds up, so does the pressure of his thumb. “Come on, Gabby. Come for me. Now. Come with me.”
He thrusts hard, and I rise to meet him, that last bit of pressure taking me over the edge, my muscles clenching and my hands slipping farther down his back. His last few thrusts as he finishes his orgasm send more shocks through my body until he slumps over me, finally still.
A hiss leaves him when I slide my palms up his back, and I try to sit up to see over his shoulder to figure out what would make him react that way. But with his body on me, I can’t move enough. My wiggling forces his softening cock out of me, and he sits up, one hand holding onto the condom as he pulls away from me.
When he turns his back to me, I gasp, sitting up in the bed. “Holy shit, Jonathan!”
He stops, looking over his shoulder and trying to see down his back at the red marks I left there from shoulder blade to waist. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Go look in the mirror.” I cover my mouth with my hand, suddenly overcome with the desire to giggle.
After dealing with the condom, he flips on the light and turns to look at his back in the mirror. “Oh. Well, I guess you got even after all,” is all he says, his voice even and undisturbed.
I tip over sideways, giving into my giggle fit.
“You think that’s funny, huh?” A smile pulls at his mouth.
He crawls back onto the bed, his smile turning wicked as he grabs my ankle and pulls me toward him. “You think it’s funny to scratch up my back?” I shake my head, but can’t stop laughing. “No? You don’t think it’s funny?”
“No,” I manage to gasp. But he’s over me, caging me in, and I can’t get away when his fingers dig into my side, tickling, making me arch and squeal.
“You don’t think so? Then why are you laughing?” He tickles me again, and I squirm underneath him, but he’s let his weight fall on me, pinning me down as he tickles me until I’m breathless.
“I’m sorry,” I finally manage to get out. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
He stops tickling me at last, wrapping his arms around me and rolling to the side, cradling me against him. He picks up one of my hands. “How’d you even do that? Your nails are usually super short.”
I shake my head against his shoulder. “I don’t know. I do need to cut them. But they’re not exactly claws.” I flex my fingers like a claw anyway, and Jonathan laughs, kissing my hand and letting it go.
“It’s okay, Gabby. I’m sure they’ll be gone in a couple of days. I mark easy anyway. It stings a little right now, but it’s not that big of a deal.”
“You’re sure?”
He gives me a smile of reassurance. “I’m sure. I’m fine.”
We cuddle and talk for a while longer, and I hate that he has to leave tonight. That we have to go pick up Marissa soon, and then he’ll drive back to his parents’ house. I’ve tried to put a brave face on things and talked about how nice it’ll be to spend time one-on-one with my sister. We used to do movie nights at her apartment at least once a month, but we haven’t since last summer. I don’t know why we didn’t in the month since I got home from school, but I guess we just got out of the habit.
But now, time with Marissa is the last thing I want. I want more time with Jonathan. All too soon, he grabs his phone and checks the time, his face rueful. “My mom’s texting to see where I disappeared to. Since you both were so tired, I should’ve been back a while ago according to her. Why don’t you text your sister and see if she’s ready to come back.”
With a sigh, I get up and find my phone. “Yeah. She said she’s more than ready, whatever that means.”
Jonathan stands and pulls me in close, giving me a long, sweet kiss. “I wish I didn’t have to go somewhere else.”
“Me too.”
“But we still have two weeks. I’m sure we can spend a night or two together in that time. We’ll get a hotel for a couple of nights or something. Go stay by the ocean. I don’t care. I know your parents won’t be thrilled if they find out, but they’re not here to do anything about it.”
I bite my lip, but nod. “Yeah. That sounds good. I like that idea.”
“Me too.”