Billionaire Boys Club 5 : Romancing the Billionaire(46)
"More poetry?" he asked her, distracted. "What do you mean?"
"I don't recall you being a poetry buff when I knew you before," she teased. "If I remember correctly, I was the one with the English minor."
His mouth crooked in a half-smile as he put the tablet away and leaned back in his chair, focusing his attention on Violet. "I had a change of heart about the English language after we parted. I ended up minoring in English Poetry, actually. Major in business. It's a weird combination."
"I'll say." She was fascinated, though. Business and . . . poetry? Had she influenced that? Did he take up his love of poetry because he'd wanted to be closer to her? Violet's heart squeezed. "Can you recite me something?"
"Poetry?"
"No, the starting lineup of the New York Yankees." She rolled her eyes. "Of course, poetry."
A smile flashed across his face. He rubbed his chin, thinking, and then turned to her, eyes gleaming. "How about some more Shelley?"
She shrugged. "That's fine. Hit me with it."
"You don't 'hit' people with poetry. You astound them with your eruditeness and your learning." He wagged his eyebrows at her.
Violet laughed and shook her head. "Just hit me with it already!"
He made a great show of clearing his throat, and Violet couldn't stop laughing. Then, grinning at her, he began to softly recite.
"The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle-
Why not I with thine?
See, the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower could be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea;-
What is all this sweet work worth,
If thou kiss not me?"
The breath caught in Violet's throat. He'd recited every line in an achingly tender voice, gazing directly at her. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes, the soft caress of his words. Her heart fluttered and she was filled with longing for him, for what they'd had once upon a time, back before everything changed and went to hell.
Her hand lifted to his cheek and she gently stroked the curve of his jaw with the backs of her fingers, admiring his beauty, his intensity, his love for her burning in his eyes.
And she wanted to experience that again. So badly. She was terrified of it, though. What if she fell for him again and he hurt her worse than before? She wouldn't be able to handle it.
And yet . . . she couldn't stop touching him. Her fingers brushed under his chin and she tilted his face toward hers, compelled.
The look in Jonathan's eyes was smoky with need. "What is all this sweet work worth?" he whispered, leaning in. "If thou kiss not me?"
Hell if she knew the answer to that. She kissed him.
NINE
If this was a dream, Jonathan didn't want to wake up.
Violet, his Violet, was cuddled up next to him on the plane, looking at him with soft eyes as he recited love poetry to her. Then, she'd touched his jaw and drawn him toward her. And incredibly, she'd kissed him.
It was no more than a quick brush of her lips over his, but it was enough. When she didn't pull away, he took the initiative. If she was waiting for him to kiss her back, he wouldn't let the opportunity escape. His lips parted against hers, his tongue stroking against the soft seam of her mouth. To his surprise, Violet's mouth opened against his, accepting his unspoken request.
With a groan, Jonathan turned and slid a hand to her nape, holding her against him as he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid against hers, and she was just as delicious, and soft, and wonderful as he remembered. And she kissed as fiercely now as she did then. Violet didn't sit back and appreciate a kiss; her tongue moved against his, her lips caressing his own, and she made fierce little noises of pleasure in the back of her throat with every stroke of his tongue, as if she were tasting a delicious dish. It made his c**k excruciatingly hard, and his craving for her intensified.
He pulled away from her mouth and she made a protesting sound, her eyes closed. Unable to resist that tiny plea, Jonathan continued to kiss and nibble at her soft upper lip. I love you, he wanted to tell her. I've never stopped loving you.
But he knew that saying it again would scare her away. When she came to her senses, she'd likely regret this moment, see it as weakness. He needed to say something to keep her with him, to let her know that everything he did, every breath he took, was wholly hers.
Jonathan's teeth tugged on her lower lip, and he noticed how her head tilted along with his, following his movements, her eyes closed in sheer bliss. He loved that. He wanted to continue to watch her lose herself in ecstasy. Her hands clung to him as if she were starved for love, and it gave him hope. "Let me pleasure you, Violet," he whispered against her mouth.