Page 82 of After the Snap

“Fuck.”

Jubal pulls his hand away and kisses me before I have a chance to enjoy my victory. I laugh against his mouth as I slide my hand beneath the collar of his shirt and around the back of his neck. I pull him closer, wanting the kiss he’s giving me and more of the reaction I finally managed to drag out of him, but he follows until his body shifts too far and the sharp breath he pulls through his teeth cuts through everything else.

I pull away immediately, my attention dropping to the ribs I already know are hurting him. “Jubal.”

“I’m fine.”

“You are a terrible liar.”

The stubborn look he gives me makes it clear he intends to keep pretending anyway, and I'm not letting him turn bruised ribs into the price of continuing something neither of us wants to stop. I push away from the island and take his hand before he can make another argument.

“Couch.”

Jubal comes with me without arguing, which tells me more about how much his side hurts than I’m fine did. When he lowers himself onto the couch, I’ve already decided sitting beside him isn’t what I want, so I step between his knees instead and watch his hands settle immediately around my hips.

Looking down at him makes me want to pick up exactly where we left off, and the chain resting against his shirt gives me somewhere to start. I curl my fingers around it and give it the slow tug I’ve wanted to give it since he pulled my mother’s ring from it all those weeks ago. I bend toward him, and his mouth meets mine before I make it all the way there.

Without the island between us, I can finally get as close as I’ve wanted to since he first kissed me. My hands slide into his hair while his hands move over my hips. When I feel the tension return to his side, I shift until I find an angle that lets me stay pressed close without putting pressure against his ribs.

Our kiss slows beneath that adjustment, and for one worried second, I think I got it wrong until one of Jubal’s hands leaves my hip and comes up to cradle my face. His palm settles against my cheek with a tenderness I wasn’t expecting after the way we’ve been pushing at each other since the kitchen, and my fingers loosen in his hair as I let the kiss change with him. When he finally draws back, his attention moves slowly over my face. The hunger hasn’t disappeared, but he’s making no attempt to hide it from me now.

“Goddamn, Pea. Look at you.” His hands tighten around my hips. “Come here.”

I barely have time to wonder what he means before he guides me closer, careful of his side even now, until I settle over his thigh. My hands brace against his shoulders as the new position presses us together, and the rush of awareness makes my eyes drop between us before I look back at him.

His hands rest on my hips without holding me there, and the choice he leaves me makes me curious enough to roll my hips experimentally. His fingers tighten immediately, stopping me before I can tell whether I’ve found something he wanted or pushed too far.

“Don’t stop, Pea. You’re doing exactly what I want.”

I move again, slower this time, until I find an angle that sends heat through me. Jubal’s hands follow without taking over, and his approval makes me bolder with the next movement.

“That’s it. Take your time and find what feels good.” His eyes move over my face before returning to mine. “God, you’re beautiful.”

My fingers tighten against his shoulders as the praise fuels the pleasure already building between us. I know I’m beautiful, but Jubal isn’t saying it like he’s giving me information I need from him. He’s watching every change in my face while I move against him, looking at me like my enjoyment is part of what he finds beautiful.

I lower my forehead toward his, wanting the easier intimacy of hiding against him for a second, but his fingers catch my chin before I get there.

“No, let me see you. You have no idea what you look like sitting on me like this, do you?”

“Jubal.”

His mouth curves at whatever he hears in my voice, making me painfully aware that saying his name probably gave him more of an answer than anything else I could have managed.

“Eyes on me, Pea. Let me watch you.”

I could bury my face against his neck and keep this part for myself. Instead, I hold his gaze as I move again.

“That’s my good girl. You’re doing so fucking good.”

His praise follows me as I find the rhythm I want, and soon I’m too caught up in the movement of my body and every change in his breathing to think about what my face is giving away.

“Yeah, you like that.” One of his hands travels slowly up my back. “You like knowing I’m watching you.”

He sounds entirely too pleased with himself for a man who is currently making it difficult for me to remember how conversations work. “Maybe I like shutting you up.”

He answers by kissing me, and I get exactly what I asked for until my smile softens against his mouth. When he draws back, he stays close enough that his lips brush mine as he speaks.

“You’re going to have to try a hell of a lot harder than that.”