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my body hummed for more.

“Jonny,” I whispered and his head tipped back.

Our gazes locked and while his eyes were no less wild, the desire I saw cemented every feeling I’d had for Jonny. I was not mixing up sex and love. This wasn’t about love, not really. It was about Jonny wanting me—just me. Not Vivi Rush’s assistant. Not because I could get him backstage passes, an autograph, hook him up with a meeting with a label exec. Not the scummy girl from the holler who everyone thought was loose because it was a given a Layne girl would put out. Not because he thought being nice to me would get me to sneak him a bottle from my daddy’s still.

The desire I saw was for me.

And I loved he wanted me.

“You should’ve run, baby,” he said.

I lost his eyes when he dipped his chin but it was arguable which was better—looking into his blue eyes full of lust or feeling his tongue as it grazed the skin just above my panties. It was a toss-up—one I’d never have the answer to because there was no right answer. Both were fantastic.

“I’m not running.”

“No, Bobby, you’re not. I gave you a chance. You stayed, now you’re mine.”

I didn’t ask what he meant by mine. Not because I wasn’t curious; I was. But when his fingers hooked the delicate lace at my hips, pulling the fabric until it started to rip, my breath caught in my throat.

Was he going to…yep, he was. The black lace fell away leaving me bare and Jonny didn’t delay. One of his hands pushed me backward and my back hit the wall. He dipped his head at the same time he hooked my thigh, and the next thing I knew my leg was over his shoulder and his mouth was on me.

“Jonny,” I breathed as his tongue speared my pussy.

And that was the last thing I said.

I panted, I moaned, I cried out, but not one coherent word came from me. I was lost in a dizzying haze of magnificence. Jonny wasn’t eating me—he was devouring me. He tongue-fucked me, licked, sucked, and nibbled. This went on a long time, not because he wasn’t good at what he was doing but every time my orgasm was near breaking, it was as if he sensed it and backed off, only to start all over again. Over and over. Up and down. Close, too far away.

“Jonny.”

My hands left his shoulders where I’d been holding onto him for dear life and went into his hair. Taking two large handfuls, I held his mouth where I needed it and rocked my hips. The growl that escaped my throat sounded nothing like me. I’d been so close to the edge so many times that when my orgasm finally broke I saw flashes of light and the pleasure was so overwhelming it was near painful.

With shocking speed Jonny was on his feet, my shirt was gone, and I was up with my legs wrapped around him. I felt him working the button of his pants, then he slammed me down on his awaiting cock.

“Fucking, goddamn,” Jonny groaned and I had to agree.

I circled my arms around his neck and arched my back as pleasure rippled through me. There wasn’t a part of me that didn’t feel full.

Jonny was thick, so thick he stretched me until I ached. So long that each time he drove in I squeaked.

And my heart felt too big in my chest, like there wasn’t enough room for it to beat.

Full.

I was finally full.

Full of love, joy, happiness.

“Should’ve been a better man,” Jonny grunted. “But it’s too late now. I’m not letting you go.”

“’Kay.”

If I meant to say more, the words died a quick death. All thoughts dissolved until all that was left was Jonny, his cock, and his mouth that was now latched onto my nipple. The lace of my bra scraped my sensitive skin, adding to the insanely hot scene.

I’d barely come down from one orgasm and another was building. My thighs squeezed tighter, my head felt too heavy on my shoulders, my muscles burned, my ears roared.

I wanted him closer, deeper. I wanted him to climb high and jump with me.

But all I said was, “More.”

“Not yet, baby.”

“Please,” I whimpered.

“Good Christ, you’re so fucking tight,” Jonny groaned against my breast.

I was hanging on the edge of something good, something huge. I was reaching for it, but Jonny wasn’t giving it to me. I needed it, I would die without it. My problem was I didn’t know what “it” was.

“Jon—”

“Shh, Bobby, trust me.”

Jonny’s hand went between my legs. His fingers grazed our connection and he lifted his head. I watched as he closed his eyes. He slowed his thrusts and I wanted to sob in frustration.

“Please don’t stop,” I begged.

“No fuckin’ way am I stopping.”

But he didn’t power back up. Long, slow drives that were making me crazy, keeping me dangling so close.

“Please,” I sobbed.

Too far gone, too caught in my need, all I could do was whimper when his thumb circled my clit, moan when he slammed into me, harder and faster than he had been. So hard my head cracked against the wall. So fast my climax overwhelmed me and left me shouting nonsensical words.

All I could do was hold on as astounding ecstasy overtook my body.

It was unfortunate I was in the midst of blinding euphoria, gasping for air, shouting my release because I missed Jonny’s. I vaguely, in a distant, floaty kind of way heard him call out my name. I felt his body tense and shudder, but I couldn’t see his face through the shards of pleasure.

“Baby?”

Was he talking to me?

My head lulled to the side and I cracked my eyes open a sliver.

Icy blue filled my vision.

Eyes that were dancing with smug satisfaction.

“Shower or bed?”

“Don’t care,” I slurred.

“Bed,” he decided.

I kinda shrugged, maybe sort of, but when his smile split his face I figured I missed the mark and it probably looked

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