by Tabatha Kiss
The nervous butterflies of yesterday are gone, leaving a burning warmth in their wake. There’s no urge to slow down, no hesitation to remain pure. I don’t want to slow down. I want to lose myself in him, to taste him, and feel him.
A deep groan vibrates Jonah’s throat and I can tell he wants me too, as strange as that may be. I should stop thinking of myself as who I think I am and start seeing myself as Jonah does. I’m not just Marla Gorchinsky, the poor, chubby loser from the bad part of town anymore. Somehow along the way, I became Jonah Botsford’s muse, the object of his desires judging by the bulge quickly forming along his inner thigh.
Jonah leans back and his eyes lock on mine in the dark as he raises his arms and pulls his shirt off over his head. I look down, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. Black ink symbols mark the underside of his forearms, leaving a trail up to his pecs. The rest of his chest is clear but I catch a little cursive written along his right ribs.
I lean forward to read it and instantly smile. “Down down baby,” I say aloud.
“I thought you’d like that,” he says, cupping my face and drawing me closer. He gives me two long, lingering kisses as I rest my hands on his abs. “There’s mine,” he says, smiling. “Where’s yours?”
I chuckle even as my gut clenches. I think to deny him. The instinct to be modest tries to creep back in but I remember what Jonah told me before. I said I wasn’t pretty. He told me I was beautiful.
I feel beautiful with Jonah. Inside and out.
I pinch the top button on my blouse but Jonah reaches out and stops me.
“Let me...” he says, his touch warm and inviting.
I lower my hands and he moves his to the next button. He takes his time, slowly slipping it free as his eyes take in the upper cusps of my cleavage. I inhale and my chest rises, making his pupils dilate but he doesn’t dare rush this.
Jonah leans forward and kisses my exposed collarbone. I moan slightly, unable to help myself as pleasure blooms over my skin. With another button free, Jonah pushes my collar back to my shoulder and continues a line of kisses toward my arm. I tilt my head down and he sighs as my lips caress his neck.
He pulls another button loose. “Your skin feels so soft,” he says, his voice rugged in my ear.
I kiss his shoulder, bravely letting myself taste him with the tip of my tongue. Salty yet sweet with a natural male bitterness that pulls me back for a second helping.
Jonah rests a palm on my face and guides my head up to kiss me again. His cheeks feel like sandpaper but any unusual discomfort is masked by his satin lips. He pushes my blouse down my other shoulder and I realize every button is open. It’s just a cheap cotton bra and skin now. I churn on the inside as my pulse pumps faster to keep up.
His other hand lays softly on my neck. For a second, he presses his fingertips in as if to check my racing pulse before sliding downward toward my breast. I shudder beneath the barely-there tickles as goosebumps sprout and my nipples twist into hard pearls.
Jonah kisses my chin before looking down and hooking a finger along my bra strap. I take the moment to breathe and try to think. I scan the garage around us, the windows now pleasantly fogged from our rapid breaths and rising body heat. Surely someone can see that from the outside even with tinted windows, right? Surely this is step one to getting caught...
That’s part of the fun, isn’t it?
My thoughts melt away as Jonah eases one strap down. His eyes wander more exposed bits of my skin and he licks his lips before dropping another kiss here and there. The cup of my left breast sags downward, revealing even more of me down to the nipple and Jonah trembles in my arms.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.
My breath hitches once more, threatening to stop completely. “You make me feel beautiful,” I say. “You can keep going. If you want.”
Jonah chuckles. “I want, Marla.” He turns his head up, his eyes locked on my lips. “I very much want.”
He kisses me and pulls me harder against him. I set my hand on his leg to steady myself and my fingers splay along the erection pressed along his inner thigh.
Jonah grunts and takes hold of my wrist, putting pressure to keep me there. “You see what you do to me?” he asks, his voice a gentle growl.
“I feel kinda bad about it,” I say with a laugh.
“Why?”
I swallow in hesitation. “Just...”
“Hey.” He pinches my chin and makes me look up. “I’m not in any hurry. Are you?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
“It’s you and me here, Marla,” he says. “There’s no one else I’d rather be with and that means waiting until you’re ready. All right?”
I smile. “All right.”
“Do you want to take a break?” he asks.
“No,” I answer, my body still throbbing for more.
His hand drifts from my chin to my neck and continues along my chest toward my bra. “Stop me,” he says as he reaches along my bare breast, “if this is too far.”
I lick my lips. I shake my head. I moan from the depth of my throat as I say, “Don’t stop.”
His fingers graze my sensitive nipple and I shiver. Jonah kisses me hard and fast on the lips as he massages my full breast in his hand. I let my hand fall to his leg and I feel the edge of his stiffness near my fingertips again. His breath rushes fast and I know he wants me to touch him like he’s touching me.
I want to, too.
I want to hear that deep grunt rise from his chest. I want to feel the eager flex of his muscles as he holds back. I want to make him feel as good as he makes me feel.
I tap into more of my bravery and wrap my fingers around his thigh. The bulge shifts beneath my touch and Jonah makes the sound I’ve been craving as I firmly move my hand up and down. He curses under his breath and I feel the tender bite of his teeth along the flesh of my breast. I imagine what his bite would feel like elsewhere; on my neck, or my thigh, or...
Christ, this is what I really want, isn’t it? I’ve never in my life thought this way about a boy. I never thought I’d get the chance...
Jonah abandons my breasts and shifts his touch downward until it lands on my thigh. “Marla,” he whispers, his breath full of heat. “Can I touch you?”
“Touch me?” I ask, confused and light-headed. He’s already touching me. Isn’t he already touching me?
His hand brushes a little higher up my thigh and he rests a firm digit along the crotch of my jeans.
“Touch you,” he repeats.
I swallow hard as his lips graze mine again and all I can do is let out the smallest moan.
“That’s what I want to hear.” He whisper-kisses my cheek. “The only thing better than hearing a woman laugh because of you... is hearing her moan your name.”
Oh, my god.
My chest flutters. My toes curl in my shoes. My core throbs in ways it never has before.
For the love of all that is holy, say yes.
“Marla...” Jonah growls and I shiver. “I want to stick my fingers inside of you and fuck you with them until you come on my hand,” he says, playfully spelling it out for me. “Can I do that?”
Good dear lord, yes.
I kiss him hard on the lips, unable to find the words themselves. He kisses me back but he keeps his hand right where it is, respectfully lingering until I say otherwise.
I flick open the top button on my jeans.
Jonah looks down, breaking our kiss. “Marla—”
“Yes,” I say. His hand twitches as I push my zipper down. “I want you to.”
He crushes his mouth on mine for another minute before taking hold of my jeans with both hands. I shift up off the seat and he pulls them down to my knees. Another long kiss, another minute to let me catch up and get used to being half-naked in front of my dream boy, and then we both strip them down to my ankles and they disappear onto the dark floor along with our shirts.
Just cotton and skin. I bite my lip, feeling oh-so-exposed
even in the dim car but Jonah’s bright eyes show nothing but heat and passion for me.
“Beautiful,” he whispers, his voice aching with truth I can’t ignore.
I kiss his scruffy cheek and he smiles as his hand burns the bare skin between my thighs. By the time his finger touches my crotch again, I’m completely his. Every wall caves in. Every second thought hushes with deafening silence. My resolve crumbles. I gladly spread my knees a little wider for him as he lays his palm on my mound. Fingers graze my clit over cotton and my mouth sags, every little touch sending a blitz of desire through my body.
Jonah closes his eyes and kisses me, easily playing me as if I were his own personal instrument. Firm rubs. Quick circles. Deep pressures. I spur to life throughout all of it and he delights in stealing every weak moan off my tongue. He pushes my panties to the side and I gasp as I feel his skin touch mine.
“That’s my girl,” he whispers. He kisses the edge of my open mouth, allowing me the space to breathe as he gently caresses the side of my throbbing clit. “God, I want to taste you so badly.”
I jolt at the words. I lose a little more of myself, succumbing to the fire burning beneath his smooth, purposeful touch. I moan without thought, without self-awareness or volume control. He does his best to smother me with his mouth but his devious fingers continue to pluck away at me as if nothing else matters. He teases between my folds and taps my entrance with the pad of his fingertip.
“You’re so wet,” Jonah whispers, barely audible beneath my mewling. “Do you want more?”
“Yes,” I say.
He kisses my neck up to my earlobe. “Do you want to feel me inside of you?”
“Yes.”
His teeth etch a line in my neck as he swirls a finger around my clit again. “Will you come for me?” he asks, almost beggingly. “I want to hear you. Feel you...”
I steal a kiss from his wicked mouth. “Yes,” I repeat, moaning between his lips like a rabid kitten.
His finger slides inside with ease and I let out another aching gasp.
“Shh,” he whispers, his breath on my cheek. “I’ve got you.”
Yes. Fuck yes, you do.
I dip my head, falling against his shoulder as he fucks me slowly. I feel everything, every smooth movement of his knuckles as he curls his finger to push along my inner wall. It’s so warm I can hardly breathe; feels so good I can’t even speak.
I moan. It’s the only thing I can do.
“Fuck,” Jonah growls, “you sound better than I thought you would.”
I smother myself in his shoulder as the tension builds in me. No one’s ever touched me like this, played me like this.
My thighs tremble.
My core clamps around him.
Jonah groans in response and inserts a second finger.
I jolt at the new invader but the discomfort barely lasts a moment before I’m moaning louder and holding onto him.
“Marla...” he whispers.
I bite down. I hold my breath. I ache and swell and scream—
Jonah slams his other hand over my mouth and silences me. I raise my head and freeze as the sound of high heels clacking along the concrete outside roams dangerously close to the car. The woman reaches into her handbag and pulls out a key fob as she rounds the car next to us and pops open the driver’s side door.
I look at Jonah’s sinister, smiling face. He keeps his hand pressed into my mouth but resumes the slow fuck inside of me with the other, practically daring me to try and keep from moaning. I purr softly into his hand as a new fear of getting caught brings a wave of taboo pleasure along with it.
“Shh,” he says into my ear again. “Not until I tell you to.”
Oh, my god.
A frustrating ache tears me apart. I want to come for him like he told me to. I need to. I can’t wait another minute. I can’t suffer through this painful torture any longer.
The other car starts up, the engine roaring with life as the woman fastens her belt and checks herself out in the rearview mirror. I tear my gaze away, pinching my eyes closed to pull all of my focus inward to Jonah’s probing fingers.
Don’t come.
Don’t come.
Don’t come.
Fuck.
I teeter on the edge. One syllable from his lips and I’ll fall for him.
As the car drives off, the wheels echo throughout the garage, and Jonah waits until the first silent second before lowering his hand from my mouth.
“Come,” he orders.
My body responds to him in every way. Shivers dance along my skin. My muscles lock. Pleasure explodes from deep inside. I feel the vibrating pulses of my pussy contracting around his fingers over and over again as a warm deluge coats his knuckles.
“Jonah.” I moan for him. I kiss every inch of him within reach. I dissolve in his embrace, feeling warmer than I ever thought possible. “Jonah, Jonah—”
He laughs, happily taking his time in sliding out of me. He removes his fingers a bit at a time and I still contract around every sensitive touch. “That was hot,” he says. He kisses my forehead and licks my sweat off his lips. “Very hot.”
I twitch. I whimper. I die.
Jonah eases back but holds me loosely in his embrace. After several calming minutes — or hours, who the hell knows — my pulse returns to normal and I gaze up into his wild eyes again.
“I should get you home,” he says.
I don’t move. I don’t dare to. “I’m not ready yet,” I say.
“Good. Me neither,” he says, grinning. He pecks the tip of my nose and sighs. “I could be here all night.”
“Me, too.” My mind flashes with possibility. The things we could do to each other if we were here all night...
I look down his body, taking in the hard lines of his abs and dark brown trail of hair disappearing beneath his jeans. This bulge is still there, visibly prominent along the line of his zipper, and I swallow hard as nerves build in my gut.
“Yes,” Jonah says.
I flinch. “What?”
“Yes, you may,” he says. “Yes, I want you to. Whatever it is you’re about to ask, yes is my answer. Fuck yes.”
I laugh, my cheeks burning bright. “I’ve never...”
“I know.” He kisses between my eyebrows. “Just take your time.”
I nod, my eyes wandering down his body again. His chest rises and falls, gently fluttering now and then. I distract him with a kiss on the mouth, letting my hands roam under cover of darkness with our eyes closed. His abs flex as I move a hand down to his jeans. I need to use both shaking hands to free his button and his breath stalls as I push his zipper down.
I hesitate, though I’m not sure why. There are certainly things here I’m not ready for and I’m under no pressure to perform any of it. It’s just me and Jonah, exploring each other in any way we want at our own pace and I love him for it.
I love him.
I stop completely.
“Marla?” he whispers, noticing my pause. “You don’t have to—”
I take his face in both hands and kiss him hard. Because I want to. Because I know he likes it. Because I can.
Jonah relaxes and settles on the seat without another word. I put my hand on him again, following the trail of hair downward and easing my hand beneath the elastic of his boxers. I touch the hard base of his cock and Jonah shudders as he silently leans back against the headrest.
I slowly curl my hand around him but find it difficult still within the confines of his jeans. I pull my hand out and Jonah eases up an inch before I even ask and pushes his jeans down below his ass.
“Yes,” he answers once more, breathless and wild as he pulls me in for another wet kiss. “Always yes.”
He draws my bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a nip as my hand slides into his tented boxers again. I wrap my fingers around his thickness, marveling at the size of him with an innocent, inexperienced touch.
I feel his strong hand slip into his boxers while our lips remain ent
wined. He takes hold of mine and gently guides it to fist him a little tighter as he strokes himself with my hand. I follow his movements, feeling more like an empowered student with each pleasant groan on his tongue.
“Just like that,” he says, his hand falling loose and letting me take control. “Christ, you feel good.”
Little beads of moisture drip along my fingers. I use it for lube, enjoying the feel of our skin easily gliding past each other. I touch his tip to gather more and his knees jerk in surprise.
“Easy,” he says, his voice deep and rattled. “You’re gonna make me come.”
I smile, my confidence bursting. “You don’t want to?” I ask.
Jonah opens his eyes and glares playfully at me. “I do,” he says.
I squeeze tighter and his legs jerk again. “Will you come for me, Jonah?” I ask.
He laughs with hesitation. “In a one hundred thousand dollar car?”
I pause my stroke and bite my lip in thought. “How much was your shirt?” I smirk.
His brow piques and he launches forward to try and find it on the floor. It doesn’t take more than a moment for him to grab it and wad it up to catch what’s coming. I suppose the price is a suitable sacrifice.
I kiss him as soon as he sits back. With dancing tongues and heaving breaths, I start stroking him slowly until a little precum touches my fingers again. I touch his tip and he grunts, bucking his hips to hump my fist.
I look down, my curiosity taking hold of me. “Can I see it?” I ask.
Jonah doesn’t answer. He merely pushes his boxers down the rest of the way and frees his full erection. My jaw drops. I knew it felt thick...
I continue stroking him, his tip glistening with more precum. His testicles rest high and tight against his body and his thighs quiver slightly every time my hand brushes his glands.
“I’m almost there,” he breaths, hand tightly clenching his shirt.
I keep going, eyes locked on his cock. I see what I can of it in the dark, from the brown bush of hair to the swollen, red head just begging to burst. I absently lick my lips. My tongue twitches with curiosity but I don’t dare act on the whim, especially not in a six-figure car where everything could go wrong.
