Learning Patience: 151

Jon was having the best dream. He was surrounded in a cloud of cotton candy, and in the center of it was one raven-haired spot of darkness. Her mouth was hot, open and hungry as it nibbled its way across his torso and up his neck. There was a responsive stirring below his waist at the vivid visual. Rolling his hips, his body instinctively sought pressure against the burgeoning hardness.

A sharp nip on his earlobe had Jon’s eyes snapping open. The soft, warm body wasn’t a dream. Petey was molesting him in his sleep.

“What’cha doin’, Sugar,” he drawled groggily.

Her mumbled answer was almost lost against the underside of his jaw. “Taking what belongs to me.”

His dick surged at the feminine ferocity. “Feeling a little possessive, are we?”

Her mouth never slowed his mission to taste and nibble. She climbed on top of him, straddling his waist with what felt suspiciously like her naked body as she continued under his chin and down the other side of his neck.

“You’re mine,” she all but growled.

Smugness fought to tip his mouth into an arrogant smile. She’d never shown any inclination toward this before. He could recall declarations that she was his, but she’d never been compelled to reciprocate and so adamantly claim him.

“Gavin threaten to steal me away tonight?” he chuckled softly, hands now roaming freely across her bare back and ass. A gentle squeeze of that perfect bottom had her groaning into his jugular.

Fervent nails scraped over his scalp and she burrowed determined fingers into his hair, tugging his face up. The city light that filtered in through the windows illuminated her face just enough for him to see the grit shining in through glassy blue eyes. “Say it,” she demanded hoarsely. “Say you’re mine. “

Not having any idea what happened tonight, Jon was confused, but her aggressiveness was hotter than hell, so he pushed his need for answers to the side. Right now he would give her what she wanted, without questions.

Curling his fingers around the back of her skull, he guided her mouth toward his and quietly affirmed, “I’m yours.”

“Now show me. Fuck me.”

Testosterone surged when she crashed her lips against his, forcing her sweet little tongue into the welcoming heat of his mouth. Their teeth clicked together in her urgency to consume him. Jon couldn’t think. Couldn’t ask why. All he could do was hold on and revel in her rampant passion and the taste of sugary alcohol.

“Christ, Baby. I’m getting you drunk more often,” he rasped when she allowed him to come up for air. Her short nails were dragging through his chest hair, and scratched roughly across his nipples, causing him to hiss.

Sex with Petey was always good, but this was a Petey he hadn’t had the pleasure of bedding in a while. This was his kinky fuckery hellcat imp.

Lord, God, Jesus.

Her rabid little mouth was marking the flesh hidden by the light fur matting of chest hair. There would be marks come morning, but he didn’t care.

“I said fuck me,” she said, head popping up to bite harshly at his bottom lip.

Control was his thing. He didn’t relinquish it lightly, but Petey was pulling firmly on the reins in her mission to be the dominatrix tonight. Visions of black leather and high-heeled boots materialized in his mind’s eye and the involuntary buck of his hips elicited a throaty purr of approval.

“That’s a good boy. Show me what you’ve got.”

He jackknifed up and, and holding tight to her ribcage, flipped her over on her back. She was staring up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, huffing to regain the breath that had been stolen from her lungs.

“I’ve got things a boy doesn’t know. Little girl.”

Her eyes narrowed while muscular runner’s thighs viced around his waist. Her arms assumed the same debilitating grip around his neck, and she rolled with all her might. Before he realized what had happened, he was back on the bottom, his face surrounded by an inky curtain of hair.

“Stop trying to be cock of the walk and walk your cock. Inside me. Now.”

Holy hell. The body part in question swelled to bursting, and the power struggle had his skin tingling. Even his nipples were stiff with the sexually charged energy. This little power play of hers had him ready to blow before her tight, wet walls closed around him.

Tunneling his fingers through her hair, he bunched it in a bundle at her nape and pulled firmly, tipping her head backward. “You think you’re in charge around here?” He arched up and gave a punishing bite to her left nipple.

“Tonight I am.” She undulated her hips and he felt her slick center douse the hair on his lower stomach. “Lose the shorts and fuck me.”

He would lose the shorts, because he was horny as hell. Not because of the dirty hot woman lording over him with her cotton candy flavored breasts.

While she shifted all her weight to her knees, he shoved the shorts down and kicked them away. Petey dropped her ass back on his groin and ground her slickness against him, making his dick twitch violently.

“I fuck you, I’m in charge.” He had her where he wanted her now. Or so he thought, until she swung off of him and leisurely rolled to her side of the bed.

She regarded him from beneath hooded eyes as her knees fell wide. “Then you won’t fuck me.” He was mesmerized by the petite hand that was sensually stroking the silken patch of skin beneath her belly button. “I don’t need you to make me come.”

Sonofabitch.

Completely torn between the erotic submergence of her hand between her thighs and the need to dominate, he hovered uncertainly in a position between lying and kneeling. Would she really forsake legitimate sex for a trip to the self-service pump?

“You wouldn’t.”

Pink-tipped fingers slipped out of sight. “Mmmm.” She burrowed her shoulders into the mattress and lifted her chin to the ceiling while her wrist flicked enticingly back and forth.

“Goddamn it, Petey.” He was hard as a damn steel rod. Her breathing was become more shallow and her fingers swam in the sweet honey that dripped from her lips.

“Mnh.” Her delicate features crumpled into a frown. “I need a vibrator.”

That was it. He couldn’t - wouldn’t sit by and jack off will she paddled the pink canoe over a raging waterfall all by herself. A guttural grunt and one aggressive move had her hands pinned above her head and Jon snarling in her ear. “Enough! You win. Tell me what the hell you want.”

Her tongue swiped its glistening moisture across her lips. “Hot, hard, screaming sex. Fuck me stupid, Jonny.”

Her wrists were traded for ankles, and he parked them on his shoulders before resting all of his weight on his hands. Her knees met her chest as he slammed into her. “Hard enough for you?”

“Harder,” she panted. “You’re mine. I want it all.”

At her directive, he allowed his male, rutting animal instincts to take the forefront. It became his personal mission to make her scream. The sweat dripped from his nose as he drilled her into the mattress over and over in an effort to embed her in the sheets.

“Scream,” he gasped. “Fucking scream for me.”

The sound of slapping flesh pervaded the room and nearly masked her breathy, “Harder.”

Dammit, he couldn’t go any harder without catapulting her through the headboard, but he wrapped his arms firmly around her thighs and gave it his damnedest try. He pushed so hard that he was sure he felt himself bump against her cervix. That was when she screamed.

The low, keening cry in that whiskey-rough voice of hers was like a book of matches thrown into a powder keg. He pistoned his hips fast and hard while she dazedly mumbled his name over and over. One final push toward the promised land had him competing with her voice, swearing and grunting out her name as the release was ripped from his body.

The wave left him weak and he fought to support his upper body, so he didn’t crush her with his weight. Giving gravity a hand, he pushed himself to the side and melted into the bed and kissed her shoulder.

“Wanna tell me what that was about, drunken imp?”

Rolling over, she nuzzled into his shoulder. “No.”

“Suit yourself.” His chin dipped to rest in the fragrant cloud of inky hair. It may have been his imagination but the cotton candy scent was stronger tonight. And a little different. Sweeter. Curious, but not enough to distract him from the situation at hand. “In case you didn’t guess, I’ve slept with a fair number of women in my time.”

She stiffened against him, and he traced the tip of his thumb in a soothing pattern on the swell of her buttock. He thought he’d already made this clear, but something evidently happened tonight to blur the memory of it. Before whatever that was went running rampant in her head and blew into a full-fledged ‘issue’, he wanted to clear it up for her one more time.

“I can’t tell you what that number is, because I don’t know. I do know that, when you and I got together, the score became final.” She released the pent-up breath she’d been holding against him and he smiled into her hair. “There won’t be anybody else, Petey. You have my word… I’ll never disrespect you like that.”

Diminutive arms compressed their bodies together and she fluttered a soft kiss against his pectoral muscle. “K.” Her soft lips tickled him when they turned up at the corners and she drawled, “And I’ll see if I can limit myself to one or two.”

“Hey!” Jon growled, manhandling her playfully. “By God, if I’m yours, you better remember that you’re mine.”

“Jeeez, man,” she drawled, swatting him away. “Possessive much?”

“No more than you are.”

Her eyes went soft and the swats gentled into tender caresses.

“I love you.”

Jon snuggled back down in the pillows with an affectionate chuckle, taking her with him as he rolled over. Spooned together, he placed a wide palm over her tummy and gave a loving nip to the ball of her shoulder. “I love you, too, Sugar.”