𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 [✓]

11. Sit With Me

Warnings: smut

I ignored the tension in the air, smirking at the image of Jonah biting his lip frustratedly from the corner of my eye. He'd come downstairs this morning, already hard, trying to grind against me in the kitchen. I'd ignored him, instead sitting down with my book. He had slouched in a chair, occasionally whining about how hard he was.

"Baby, please." Jonah got up, walking to me. "It's getting uncomfortable."

I had to second that. Jonah's hard-on was straining against his jeans, the outline recognizable through the black fabric.

My boyfriend stopped next to me and I feigned uninterest. He groaned plaintively, hips rolling against the air, lip pulled between his teeth. I reached out one hand and gripped him tightly through his jeans, eyes still trained on my book. Jonah threw his head back, moaning unashamedly as he rutted into my fingers, eliciting a smirk from me.

I pulled my hand away and Jonah whimpered, trying to grab at my hand. I only grinned wickedly and placed both hands on my book.

Jonah growled. "That's it. I can't deal with this anymore." Before I could question what that meant, he'd scooped me up and sat on my chair, placing me on his lap. His hard-on pressed against my ass and his hands slid up my large t-shirt to grip my hips, thumbing at the waistband of my panties. He wasted no time before rolling my hips against him, groaning in relief at the friction.

I smirked, gripping the edge of the table as I pressed down against him. Jonah cried out behind me, bucking his hips into me. I pressed down my ass briefly, making sure that he could feel my wetness through my panties. "Practically dripping, darling." He teased, fluttering his hands over the scraps of white lace I called underwear.

I turned around on his lap and continued grinding on him, moving my hands up to cup the back of his neck as my I mouthed his collarbone. Jonah groaned, gasping out, "baby, I need, I need,"

"What do you need? What can I give you?" I whispered, bringing my eyes to meet his innocently as I rolled my hips again.

"You." Jonah snarled before ripping my panties down my legs and tossing them to the kitchen floor. He stood up, pressing me flat to the kitchen table. His boxers didn't even make it past his thighs before he roughly sheathed himself in me, groaning in satisfaction.

I gasped loudly, pulling at his hair.

With swift movements, Jonah thrusted into me again and again, shaking the table with the hard desperation behind each movement.

One of my legs was slung over his shoulder and he hit my sweet spot with every slight move. I screamed out over and over again, reaching up one hand to grip his bicep, digging in my nails as the pit of my stomach churned and threatened to spill over.

"I don't know how much longer I can-" Jonah was cut off with a loud moan as I clenched around him and he jerked, his face screwing in concentration as he tried to hold in his release.

"So don't." I gasped, my own body quivering with the nearness of my climax.

With one last jerk of his hips, Jonah spilled into me, pressing harshly on my clit so I followed him.

We were left gasping for breath on the table, still heaving with the intensity of the last 15 minutes.

"I feel bad for the neighbors," I admitted.

"Why?" Jonah grinned. "I think screams and moans really add atmosphere to scrambled eggs."