Romancing the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #5)(52)
Author: Jessica Clare

“Please, Jonathan,” she begged. “I need you deep inside me.”

“Come again for me,” he demanded.

She tightened her interior muscles, trying to clench his dragging fingers inside her. “Not until you’re in me and we can come together.”

He hesitated, then groaned and pressed his face against her stomach. “Damn, I love you, woman.”

She hoped that meant she was going to get her way. “Hurry,” she encouraged him. “I’m aching so badly for you.”

Jonathan turned and climbed onto the bed fully again, then leaned down and kissed her, and she eagerly wrapped her legs around his hips. He groaned against her mouth, and she felt his hand move between them, guiding his c**k to that perfect spot between her legs. When he placed the head of it at her core, he hesitated.

She bucked against him, trying to encourage him forward. “Yes!” But he only rubbed it against her, that wicked beast. She groaned as he thrust against her entrance, but no further. “Do it!”

“I love you, Violet,” he said hoarsely. Then, he pushed deep and sank to the hilt.

She gasped. Not only because of his heartfelt words, but because of the sensation of him, the memory of him filling her like this so many years ago. Sex with Jonathan had always been good, even when they were two fumbling teenagers. Sex with Jonathan as an adult was reaching new levels of amazing. She tightened her inner muscles around him, reveling in the feel of his c**k deep inside her. God, he felt so good. So perfect for her.

He groaned, his eyes closing, and she watched his face, hungry to see his desire. To see him lose control. She wanted to feel him stroke deep inside her, but more than that, she wanted to see him as he lost control, to see his face tighten with his own orgasm, to watch the release move across his handsome features.

She was hungry for it. And so Violet flexed her hips, encouraging him to start moving. “You feel incredible, Jonathan. You’re so deep inside me, aren’t you?”

“Violet,” he murmured thickly. “My Violet.”

“All yours,” she agreed, and gasped when he rocked his hips, thrusting into her. Oh, that was sinfully magnificent.

“All mine,” he said in a low voice, and pushed into her again, his movements steady. “You are, aren’t you?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. It was in the way she greedily raised her h*ps for his next drive, the way her arms twisted in the bonds, dying to touch him. She wanted all of him. And so she dug her heels into his ass and lifted her h*ps with each powerful thrust he gave her.

If Jonathan had thought to make her wild with slow, measured thrusts, he’d clearly underestimated himself. She felt his body tremor against her own, and she watched his face go tight, as if struggling to hold on. One hand clasped her hip and he held her firmly, even as he hammered deep again.

“Yes,” she told him, lifting her h*ps and squeezing her internal muscles with every thrust. “Yes, Jonathan. Give it to me.”

His control was ebbing. His next few thrusts lost their measured cadence, and then Jonathan lifted one of her legs from his hip and dragged her ankle to his shoulder. He pressed a kiss there and pushed into her again, and it made his penetration even deeper, even more wonderful than before. Violet gave a soft cry and bit her lip. Oh, God, that was wonderful.

And all the while, he started to thrust harder and harder. She heard the slap of his balls against her ass, felt his skin smack against her own with the power of his drives. It was wonderful. More than that, the look on his face had gone rigid, inches away from losing control. He was thrusting into her so hard that her br**sts were bouncing with every movement, and the bed in the hotel room was squeaking loudly.

She didn’t care. She loved it.

She was so fixed on Jonathan’s pleasure and the look on his face that she was surprised when she felt the onset of an orgasm begin to bloom deep in her own belly again. “Oh,” she cried out, shocked. Normally she needed for her cl*t to be manipulated in order for her to come, but Jonathan’s wild driving into her was doing it for her. “Oh, Jonathan,” she gasped, urgency building inside her. Her toes curled, and her ankle dug into his shoulder. “Oh, keep going!”

“Come for me,” he growled, voice harsh with need. The bed squeaked louder, and Jonathan slammed into her harder and harder. His hand had left her hip and he was using both to support his body as he drove into her. Her br**sts were bouncing wildly, and she was loving it, her moans escalating with each thrust. Violet was pretty sure they were being noisy as hell.

She was also pretty sure she didn’t care. She closed her eyes and bit her lip again, focused on that elusive orgasm, on the feel of Jonathan pounding into her. “Oh, God, please keep going. Just like that. Oh, God, yes. Yes!” It built and built, and then she was trying to lift her h*ps to meet his hammering thrusts as he moved impossibly fast within her. She couldn’t keep up with his rhythm, their bodies out of sync. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care. All that mattered was closing in on that orgasm—

And suddenly it was there. Violet gave a little scream as her body shuddered, her pu**y clenching tight around the thick length of Jonathan’s cock, and she came and came and came. Sparks exploded behind her eyes and her entire body quaked, and oh, God, it was so good.

Her name dragged out of his throat between thrusts. “Violet.”

She opened her eyes, even as her body quivered with the orgasm, and wished she could touch his face. “Come for me, Jonathan,” she whispered. “Oh, God, come with me.”

Even as she came down, he tilted his head back and groaned, the cords in his neck straining as he came on his own. She watched in wonder as his body tensed, his face flushing, and she thought she’d never seen anything more beautiful than Jonathan Lyons, face tight in the rictus of orgasm. His thrusts became erratic and slowed, his panting equally so, and then he dragged his c**k in and out of her in one last, almost exhausted thrust, and his sleepy eyes opened to stare at her in wonder.

“Violet,” he murmured thickly.

“I’m here,” she said in a soft voice. “I’m here.”

Breathing hard, he rolled off of her and headed to a nearby garbage can, peeling off the condom. She watched his bu**ocks flex as he walked, admiring them and the tan lines separating his waist from his ass. He turned back to the bed and moved to the headboard, his fingers undoing the knots that held her wrists in place. “You okay?”