treat you, Blake?” He’s speaking quietly too, as we’re sharing secrets even as the sound of our fucking fills the room.
I moan and spread my legs more. “Like I’m a dirty little slut who needs my Daddy’s cock.” I gasp as his motions have pleasure sparking through me. “And my Daddy’s fingers.” I turn and nip his bottom lip. “And I really, really love waking up with my Daddy’s tongue in my pussy.”
He kisses me hard and then he’s pulling out and moving down my body again. He eats my pussy in a frenzy, messy and intense, until I come all over his face two more times. Only then does Jonas flip me over and fuck me just as hard as he did last night.
By the time we surface, the call has been disconnected for a very long time.
Eventually, though, even outstanding sex can’t distract Jonas from the way my stomach keeps growling. He stretches and gives me a long look. “Did you have dinner last night?”
I have absolutely no reason to be embarrassed by the truth, but my cheeks heat all the same. “I planned on grabbing something on my way back to the airport.”
“Thought so.” He sits up and stretches again, something in his back popping. “You eat meat?”
“Considering I had your cock in my mouth last night, I’d say that’s readily apparent.”
He snorts. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
“I do.” I find myself grinning as he pulls me to my feet. “But to answer your question, yes, I eat meat. I don’t have any allergies or anything, either.”
He nods. “Okay.”
Before we go to the kitchen, we detour to his walk-in closet. It’s only half full, a scattering of shirts hanging neatly next to folded jeans and sweaters. My mouth waters at the thought of him in the cream fisherman’s sweater. Jonas grabs a T-shirt and hands it to me. I don’t point out that my clothes have long since dried; the truth is that I like wearing his shirts.
Not to mention, we’re sure to be fucking again soon, and the easy access is a serious perk.
He pulls on a pair of lounge pants and leads the way downstairs. The sun is finally up, I think. Or at least the gray sky is slightly lighter, even if the rain hasn’t let up. After the relative warmth of his bedroom, the downstairs feels brisk to the point of freezing. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself.
Jonas glances at me. “I’ll get a fire going.”
“You don’t have central heat?”
“I do, but I don’t need it that often. I prefer the fireplace.” He walks to the oak chest at the back of the couch and pulls a thick blanket from it. I stand perfectly still as he comes over to wrap it around me. “It will only take a minute.”
I clutch the blanket around me and watch, my foolish heart in my throat as he gets to work. The sex has been out of this world, but this moment feels strangely soft and domestic. It feels real in an entirely different way than anything with this man has to date. Not to mention, he looks really good as he kneels and pulls wood from the metal tray thing to arrange it in the fireplace.
To distract myself, I turn and pad toward the glass door that leads to the back of the house. To the backyard.
Curiosity quickens my steps and I grin at the sight that meets me through the cool glass. I should have known that Jonas wouldn’t overly curate his grounds. There are tons of trees, but they’re all large enough to tell me that they’ve been here a very long time. It’s the wrong time of year for flowers, but I bet they’re all local, too. The only nod to design he has is the stone patio that houses a barbecue, a smoker, and a hot tub. There’s also a narrow stone path that leads into the trees, curving carefully around the trunks so it doesn’t hamper the trees’ growth.
It’s perfect.
He’s so damn good. I’ve seen portfolios of his work, and the man is always so skilled at adapting to whatever the location and client requires. He got famous for his minimalist designs, but the true genius is in the smaller projects he did over the years. They remind me of this house, though they don’t look remotely similar. But the way they capture a particular feeling is the same. It’s downright magical.
“You’re ogling my