Where Beauty Goes To Die | j. snow

CHAPTER 32 | THE INSATIABLE WOLF

Jon knew of the feeling she spoke about very well. "We don't have to do anything. You are not obligated to do anything you don't want to do and the same goes for me."

"I kissed you."

He nodded. "You did."

"I didn't do it to numb my sadness or to repay you for kissing me last night. I did it because—because I wanted to." She felt a familiar pull in her lower belly. "And I want to do it again," she added softly. "I have wanted to for awhile."

Jon didn't move. He didn't pull her to him like he wanted to do or discover the naked body that was hidden under the nightgown she wore. He only looked at her, waiting for her to decide. He would respect the decision she made. He was incredibly aroused, but it wouldn't matter the second she denied him. Her consent was all that mattered.

Wren stared at her best friend, remembering the first time he had pushed her against her bedroom door in Winterfell, the heat of his breath still a memory on her skin. She suppressed the shiver that went through her body. The first time he had kissed her, she felt as though she was the luckiest girl in the world, until he had confessed to regretting the kiss, and she felt like the unluckiest. Then she thought of her dream, of the phantom hands that slithered down her body and the way their sweaty limbs tangled in a frantic rhythm of passion. She thought of the brief kiss they shared last night; tentative and careful. And now, as her lips were still puffy from their most recent kiss, she realized that despite her sadness and guilt, she knew she deserved to feel happy.

And she knew that happiness was with Jon.

Her hands went back to his shoulders, but instead of kissing him again, she swung her legs over his, leaning her body into his so she didn't fall backward with her knees pressed into the mattress. Jon's hands instinctively went to her back and he couldn't help but press her further against his bare chest.

Wren gasped at the contact. "Well," she said impatiently, "aren't you going to kiss me?"

Jon chuckled and did as she commanded.

It was slower than their initial one, their lips passing over one another with featherlight presses. Wren was not very experienced. She had only ever kissed Clay. Kissing Jon was different, but she slowly grew accustomed to the way he angled his head to the left and how he liked to suck her bottom lip into his mouth from time to time. It was always a bit tricky with getting used to doing the act with her eyes closed, but she tried to focus on the sensations and actions of every movement.

When he shifted her hips further up onto his lap and she felt the thickness of him through his pants nudge against the inside of her thigh, she startled, her mouth parting in a gasp. Jon hummed as he took that opportunity to press his own open mouth against hers, running his tongue along the inside of her bottom lip. She felt her breath seize in her chest and she waited until she felt his tongue meet hers. Her hands loosed their grip on his shoulders as she became immensely aware of the slick slide of her tongue against Jon's. And there was no stopping the loud moan that vibrated from her throat.

Jon only held her tighter, his hands falling to the curve of her ass and then her thighs as he started to press her down against his crotch. Wren stuttered as she inhaled through her nose at the feel of him, hot and rigid because of her. She had done that to him. It was a powerful thought, one that made her proud.

Wren broke away to gasp for air, panting with hooded eyes as she looked at Jon, who held her gaze with a growing hunger. His fingers teetered at the edges of her nightgown as if in question, and she nodded wantonly. Her arms raised so he could remove the gown. As it fell to the floor and the chilly air of the room touched her now bare body, she felt slightly self-conscious. No one had ever seen her like this, with her body to be scrutinized and judged. But when she looked at Jon, she only saw that insatiable hunger in his eyes increase tenfold.