Flora's POV
I fumbled with the remote as Jonathan’s footsteps echoed down the stairs. My heart pounded, and I quickly stopped on a random channel, hoping it would look convincing.
He entered the room, his calm gaze landing on me before shifting to the screen.
I froze. The TV was playing an explicit scene from a reality show, a lady's moans filling the room. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I scrambled for the remote, but his low chuckle stopped me.
“Well, this is… unexpected,” he said, moving closer to me on the couch.
Before I could respond, his hand slid to my thigh, and his lips claimed mine.
He knew exactly where to touch, how to touch, and when to push me to the edge without overwhelming me. It was as if he had mapped out every sensitive spot on my body and was now playing me like an instrument, coaxing sounds from me that I didn’t even know I was capable of making.
His tongue traced the outline of the neckpiece on my neck, sending a rush of warmth through me. “You don’t know how long I’ve been holding back,” he murmured against my skin. “Ever since the time I saw you and Lucian together, I’ve been thinking about you, wanting you. Nothing on earth could stop me from thinking about you that night.”
His words made me tremble, not just because of the desire they conveyed, but because of the way he said them—with a raw honesty that made me feel seen. Perhaps, Jonathan wasn’t just here for a quick thrill. Perhaps, he wanted me, all of me.
I looked into his eyes, those deep, captivating eyes that seemed to change color the longer I stared into them. I remembered seeing the same shift the first time with Caleb, and it had intrigued me then as it did now.
“Even my eyes are captivated by you,” he teased, his voice low and rough, sending a delicious feel through me.
The moaning sounds from the reality TV show filtered through the thin walls again, and for a moment, my focus shifted.
Yes, it was how everything started anyways—as a distraction.
Jonathan was quick as usual to bring me back, his voice grounding me. “Don’t listen to that,” he said, his tone almost scornful. “Her voice sounds fake. It's just a cheap porn movie after all,”
His words had the desired effect—I felt a small surge of satisfaction at his dismissive comment about the lady on screen. It was petty, I knew, but after everything, I couldn’t help feeling a bit smug that he found her lacking compared to me.
I started to let go, to truly immerse myself in the sensation of Jonathan moving inside me. Every thrust was perfectly timed, each one sending pleasure through me that kept building until I couldn’t contain it anymore. I opened my mouth, letting out a moan that was loud and unrestrained, something I’d never done before.
Caleb had always made me feel like my pleasure was secondary, if not irrelevant. He’d once complained that I was too quiet during sex, comparing me to a plank of wood. His disappointment in me had been clear, and as time passed, he’d barely touched me at all, preferring to seek satisfaction elsewhere. But with Jonathan, I didn’t feel self-conscious. I didn’t feel like I had to hold back. For the first time, I felt free to express what I was feeling, and it was intoxicating with every second that passed.
Jonathan’s eyes darkened with desire at the sound of my moan, and he responded by thrusting harder, deeper, making me gasp out of breath. “That’s it, Dahlia,” he growled, his voice rough and raw. “Let it out. Don’t hold back.”
The more I moaned, the more intense Jonathan became, as if my sounds were fueling his own pleasure. His hands roamed over my body, caressing my breasts, teasing my nipples until they were hard and aching. Then he moved lower, his fingers finding my clitoris with an expertise that made me cry out in pleasure.
I could feel the tension coiling in my abdomen, the pressure building to an unbearable level. I was so close, so incredibly close, and Jonathan seemed to know it. His fingers moved faster, more insistently, pushing me right to the edge. I was trembling, my breath coming in ragged gasps, and I knew I was about to fall apart.
But just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, Jonathan suddenly stopped. ‘What the fuck!’ I stared at him in shock, my body throbbing with the need for release.
Jonathan grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. There was a smug, almost arrogant smile on his face as he asked, “Are you about to climax, Dahlia?”
I couldn’t speak, couldn’t form the words to respond. My entire body was focused on the need for that final satisfaction, the unbearable tension that Jonathan had expertly built up and then denied me. My silence must have pleased him because his grin widened.
“Good,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “I want you to wait. I want you to beg for it.”
I shook my head, trying to pull away, but Jonathan held me in place, his grip firm but not painful. “No,” I gasped, desperate. “Please, Jonathan, don’t do this…”
But he didn’t relent. Instead, he lowered his mouth to my neck, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive skin there, driving me wild with need. His hands resumed their exploration of my body, but this time he moved slower, teasing me, making me crave his touch even more.
I was caught in a blast of sensations—his lips, his hands, the heat of his body pressed against mine—and it was all too much. I could feel myself unraveling, losing control, and I knew that Jonathan was the one holding the reins. He was the one in charge, and I was completely at his mercy.
“Say it, Dahlia,” Jonathan whispered against my skin, his voice dark and commanding. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you,” I finally admitted, my voice breaking. “I want you to finish it, please.”
Jonathan’s eyes flashed with triumph, and he didn’t make me wait any longer. The pleasure that had been simmering inside me exploded into a white-hot wave of ecstasy, and I cried out, my entire body melting till I spilled it all.
I collapsed against him, my breath ragged, my body trembling with the aftershocks. Jonathan was still inside me, his breathing heavy and uneven. I knew he was close, that he had been holding back for my sake, and the thought filled me with a strange kind of pride.
Without a word, I reached up and cupped his face, pulling him down for a kiss. It was soft, tender and he responded eagerly, his lips moving against mine desperately.
He began to move again, slower this time, more controlled, and I could feel him nearing his own release. I tightened my legs around him, encouraging him to let it all in.
His warm load filled my insides, and as he buried himself deep he cried out, “Be mine, Dahlia.” I didn’t know which; the words he said or the way he called my name, but, it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.