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Pulling Devin to the edge of the counter, she wraps her legs around my waist, and her center presses against my lower abdomen. The heat that penetrates through her panties and my shirt ignites a fire in my soul. It takes everything I have not to strip her down and plunge deep inside.
I kiss down her neck, nipping at the sensitive flesh as I move down. Kneeling in front of her, I spread her legs, placing one on each of my shoulders, and push her skirt up to her waist.
“Dante,” Devin whimpers when I nip at her inner knee. “Shit.”
Licking and biting, I move higher up her legs. Reaching the apex of her thighs, I press my nose to the silky covering and inhale, applying slight pressure against her clit. She squirms as I rub little circles over the bundle of nerves. I hook a single finger in her panties and pull them to the side, opening her up to devour properly.
Devin nearly jumps off the counter as I lick a path up the center between her folds and over her clit.
“Fuck, Dante. Don’t—”
I cut off her words, sinking two fingers deep inside her and locking my mouth around her clit. Sucking and licking in tandem with the slide of my fingers inside her. I twist my wrist, hunting for the sweet spot that I know will send her flying.
Thighs press into my skull and sharp edges of nails dig into my scalp as she attempts to push me away and pull me tighter against her at the same time. Her legs quiver and her hips lift slightly off the counter, a failed attempt to chase her desperately needed release that I haven’t granted.
I peer up at her from my place between her thighs. Her chest heaves with ragged pants for air around her moans of pleasure and whimpers of frustration. I catalogue every movement and every little noise, remembering the moves and motions that make her squirm, what makes her gasp in surprise and moan with desire.
My fingers glide in and out of her slick heat with ease, making sure to hit that spot deep inside her along her front wall. The one that makes her cry out my name so deliciously.
“D-Dante. Shit. Fucking hell. I’m … I’m—” Her words die on a scream as her orgasm crashes through her. Her legs squeeze my face tight against her body, and I milk her through the cresting waves of aftershock, drawing out her pleasure. She melts back, fingers sliding through my hair as her hands find the counter, and she rests back on her elbows, panting for air. Her legs loosen, and I slowly stand between them.
Looking down at the sated angel sprawled out in front of me on my counter, I know I’ll never be able to look at this spot again without remembering this incredible moment.
“You are fucking beautiful,” I say, leaning forward and capturing her lips, pouring all of my affection into the stolen kiss.
Cole
Dusky brown hair all tied up in a messy bun. A sheer floral blouse over a petal pink tank top. Thick, black glasses framing bright sapphire eyes crinkled in the corners by a smile that illuminates any room. Why does she have to tempt me so? I hardly know the woman, but the connection I felt after just one night was real … is real, and I haven’t been able to get her off my mind. My greed and desire for this slip of a woman could rival Dante’s uncontrollable lust or Lucian and Otis’ possessiveness.
A groan escapes me unbidden, and I clamp down hard on my lips, holding any more noise at bay as I pump my cock in my fist under the desk. Looking around quickly, I ensure that I really did close all the blinds and locked my office door. I set my desk phone on “do not disturb” under the guise that I’ll be in an important meeting until further notice. In truth, I’ve been internet stalking Devin Black. A twenty-eight-year-old woman from New Jersey. Recently moved to Manhattan and started a new position at the New York Public Library.
Her online employee photo looks nothing like the timid vixen I met at the club, dressed in denim and leather, sporting high heels. No, here she looks more natural, more comfortable in her own skin. My body’s reaction to her warm smile and inviting eyes is visceral and deprived.
“Kitty cat, fuck.” My head drops back against the headrest of my chair, and I picture those bright sapphire orbs peering up at me through thick-rimmed glasses while she sucks me off, kneeling between my legs. Her long hands wrapping around the base of my cock to squeeze and feed herself my length until she’s gagging on me. My hands fisting in her hair, making her look utterly debauched.
My balls tighten, and my cock hardens as it fills, ready to spill. A loud knocking sounds on my office door and reverberates off the walls around me.
“Cole, I know you’re in there. Open the damn door,” Carson James, or CJ, as he’s known to most of us, longtime family friend and the CFO of my company, yells.
“Fucking hell, give me a goddamn minute,” I grumble under my breath, ignoring the persistent banging on my door as I stroke my cock faster, squeeze it just that much harder, picturing my kitty cat on her knees, begging me with her eyes to fill her mouth as she sucks me deeper.
The tingling sensation at the base of my spine shoots through me like a livewire, powerful and all consuming. I slap a hand over my mouth to hold back the groan of relief that hits me as it races through my cock. Panting and boneless, I slap around my desk for the box of tissues to clean off the face of my center drawer that now sports the evidence of my release. On shaky legs, I stumble my way to the en suite bathroom connected to my executive office to clean up. Being the CEO of a multibillion-dollar corporation has its perks, like private restrooms connected to your office, so you don’t have to do the walk of shame through the office when you couldn’t keep your urges in your pants.
Clean and finally more centered, I open my door to find CJ down on one knee, hands raised, and a paperclip dangling from his fingers.
“No, CJ, I’ve told you before, I will not marry you. Now stop embarrassing yourself like this.” Snickers and snorts echo through the large open space as CJ gets back to his feet. He drops his hands and shakes his head with an eyeroll in my direction, a dismissal of my attempt to dispel the tension.
CJ walks past me into my office, not bothering to ask if I have a moment for him and his never-ending worries and pestering. He’s never asked before, why would he start now?
“Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable,” I say as he approaches the minibar I have set up in the far corner of the room. “Do help yourself.”
“Cole, we need to talk.” He pours two glasses of bourbon, neat. Turning, he hands one to me and gestures to the leather sofa and chair arranged in the center of my office.
“Of course we do, old friend, why else would you be in here drinking my liquor at ten in the morning?” I quip, taking a sip of the amber liquid. I eye CJ wearily. Normally, the man is a mask of indifference, cool and collected, never a kink in his chain of command. Today, though, he’s emitting a nervous energy, one of worry and uncertainty. “Well, spit it out. I can see there’s something on your mind. No need to be delicate about it, just say it.”
CJ downs his glass in one go and stands to refill it. “You’re not acting like yourself. You’ve been short-tempered, distant, and unavailable. Your mind’s been elsewhere the last few days, and it’s got the board up in arms. What is going on with you, Cole?”
“Devin’s back in town. This time to stay,” a voice says from behind me.
