“I’m trying to decide if I should play nice,” he admitted.
I felt my belly start to tickle.
“What does ‘playing nice’ mean?” I asked.
“Well,” he said softly. “Playing nice means that I’ll kiss you. Fuck you. Press my mouth to yours.”
I didn’t see anything wrong with that at all.
“What does playing dirty mean?” I pushed.
“Playing dirty is kind of like playing nice,” he admitted. “Only, it’s a lot more fun.”
My lips curved up into a small smile.
“I don’t know,” I said softly. “I’ve never been known as a ‘nice girl.’”
His lips twitched. “No?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve been known as a wild child since my feet touched the ground.”
He took a step toward me, and my heart started to jackhammer against my chest.
“Take your bra off, Piper,” he ordered. “And lose the panties.”
This time I wasn’t nearly as careful about the state of my bra or panties when I took them off. Later, it’d bother me that I’d taken my underwear off inside out. It’d also bother me that both had hit the floor.
But with those words coming out of Jonah’s raspy mouth, I stood no chance.
I was highly attracted to my husband.
I craved order.
And, I was finding out, I loved getting orders from my husband.
My bra slipped off easily enough.
My panties hung at my thighs and started doing that rolling into themselves thing.
Something that would’ve likely driven me insane had Jonah not been looking at me like he was ready to devour me.
I shivered when I finally stood in front of him nude.
Then it was Jonah’s turn.
When he placed his hands on the waistband of his boxer briefs and began peeling them down his legs, I was practically panting.
He walked to the edge of the bed, directly across from where I was standing, and took a seat on the edge.
Then he opened his legs a little wider, letting his swollen cock and balls fall between his legs to rest on the comforter.
His cock was big.
So big, in fact, that the weight of it caused his rock-hard cock to droop slightly and not stand as straight as a man much smaller in size would have.
I licked my lips and shifted my legs, loving the way that they rubbed together and caused a much-needed friction at certain spots.
“Come ‘ere,” he rumbled, gesturing to me with his hands.
I did, all the while admiring his gorgeous body as I moved.
Even sitting down, Jonah was magnificent.
He had strong, powerful thighs. Defined, muscular calves. His feet were large, and even his knees were sexy.
He had a tattoo on his calf of a dagger. It started right below his knee and traveled straight down until the point was right above his ankle bone. The hilt and the blade had intricate swirls that decorated it, and the words ‘Endure and Survive’ were written in Old English lettering along the side of the blade.
That was the only tattoos he had on his lower body.
His upper body, however, had a smattering of tattoos.
His upper body was also much sexier to look at than his lower half.
At least, most of it, except for one certain appendage that I was avoiding looking at seeing as I wanted to look my fill of his body since I hadn’t gotten a chance to yet.
“Like what you see?” he wondered.
I licked my lips and allowed my eyes to take in his belly.
He had abs. He had side abs. He had lower abs. He had the V. He had every possible ‘abdominal’ that you could have, as well as every muscle beside those abdominals that you could have.
Honestly, he could easily make it onto one of my book’s covers, and the authors would likely salivate over who got to use him first.
“What’s this tattoo mean?” I asked, pressing the tip of one finger against his rib, just below his left pectoral.
It started at his armpit and ran straight down his left side until it came to a rest just above his hip bone.
“Roman numerals of a date,” he said.
“What’s the significance of the date?” I pushed.
He licked his lips and trailed the tips of his fingers up the outside curve of one hip.
“It’s the day that I decided to stop trying to please everyone and start trying to please only myself,” he said. “I was fifteen.”
“Your parents let a fifteen-year-old get a tattoo?” I asked.
He snorted with laughter.
“My parents didn’t let me do anything at that point in time,” he said. “Mom was lucky if I even came home. I…I’ve never been the most easy-going of kids. I grew up by the time I turned sixteen. All innocence was lost on me. At seventeen, after I graduated, I joined the military and didn’t look back.”
I trailed my finger down the tattoo until I couldn’t reach anymore without bending over.
I would’ve followed the line of it down, but I didn’t want to put my breast in front of Jonah’s face.