My heart skips a beat. I can tell he thinks he means it.
All thoughts abandon my mind when his hand, the texture rough from playing, glides over and between my thighs. A throaty sound escapes me as he strokes me there, his talented fingers finding their way beneath my underwear.
“You really want me this much?” he whispers as he feels how wet I am, how much my need has transformed me.
“Yes,” I hiss, reaching for the band of his jeans.
I get the button undone, my hands trembling as he continues to glide his fingers over me, dipping inside of me, and?—
I vibrate with pleasure, and in a low, honeyed voice, he says, “That’s a good spot for you,” and continues to play with me there, his touch sure and confident as he unravels me.
When has a man paid this much attention to what I like?
Never.
The little voice in my head, the one that seems to hate me, whispers that I haven’t allowed it. That I still shouldn’t be allowing it. But I can feel him hard and ready beneath my fingers, and the way he’s touching me, playing me like his guitar, unrelenting…
“Cormac.”
He swears under his breath. “I don’t have anything. I can’t?—”
“I’m on birth control, and I always use protection. We don’t need one. If you’re okay with it.”
“Oh God.” He kisses the side of my face. “Yes. I need to be inside you. To feel you without anything between us.”
So do I, but I don’t want to say it. I don’t want to think about what it might mean that I want this with him when I’ve allowed it with no one else.
I unzip him and pull down his pants and underwear,wrapping my hand around him in the dusk of the closet. He feels so warm and hard beneath my touch, and he’s kissing me again, even as he continues to move his fingers—each stroke hitting me in that mind-bending spot. I can’t wait anymore. I’m on the edge of coming, but I want to do it when he’s inside of me. I want it to happen to us together.
“Now.”
I hook my underwear off and turn around, planting my hands on the door and pushing my hips back.
He swears but doesn’t hesitate. With one hand on my hip, his mouth pressing kisses to my neck, he lines himself up and thrusts into me. It feels impossibly good to have him like this—nothing separating me from his hard heat—and I almost come immediately.
“I have to stay still for a moment,” he whispers into my ear, his voice only for me. His cock only for me. “Otherwise, I’m going to?—”
“I want you to,” I say, barely recognizing my voice. “I want to feel it happening. I don’t care if it’s fast. I’m so close.”
He groans, and with his free hand, he reaches around to cup one of my breasts. He’s still inside of me, filling me so well, and I arc back to bring him deeper.
He swears against my neck, then finds my lips and kisses me over my shoulder as he pulls out and slides all the way back in again. His glasses graze my face, but I’m glad when he doesn’t take them off. They’re part of him, and I’m fond of them.
The door creaks loudly as he thrusts in again and again, each stroke pounding raw pleasure through me. I want the moment to last forever, and I want my orgasm to rip through menow.
“I can’t?—”
“Now, Cormac,” I say, feeling the pleasure finallyreach its crest. I’m ready to jump off into the abyss. To take it too far. To take it all the fucking way. “Give it all to me. I want it.”
He thrusts in once more and bites my shoulder, and holy shit, I guess that does it for me, because I feel myself clenching around him with a release that has me practically pounding on the door. I bite back a loud moan, and he groans against me.
I can feel him coming inside me, which is a turn-on I wasn’t expecting, but he doesn’t pull out immediately. He kisses me and gathers me to him like I’m someone special?—
Not the woman who just convinced him to have sex in a random janitor’s closet.
Not the woman who asks too much and gives too little.
We’re still like that, cuddled together in our bubble—Cormac inside of me, his arms wrapped around me—when footsteps sound in the hallway beyond the closet.
