"Breathe," I remind her roughly. "Just breathe."
She inhales shakily, her eyes locked on mine, and something profound and terrifying passes between us. This isn't just sex. This isn't just stress relief or adrenaline-fueled attraction. This is something fundamental shifting, clicking into place, the final piece of a puzzle I didn't know I was solving.
"Okay," she whispers finally. "Okay. You can move."
I withdraw slowly, almost all the way out, and thrust back in with controlled force. Her back arches off the counter, a strangled moan tearing from her throat, and I do it again. And again. Setting a steady, deep rhythm that has her gasping and clawing at my shoulders.
"That's it," I praise, picking up speed. "Take it. Take all of me."
"Lanek, oh, right there?—"
I angle my hips, hitting that spot that makes her cry out, and her entire body tightens. "Here?"
"Yes, don't stop, please don't stop?—"
I have no intention of stopping. I brace both hands on the counter on either side of her head, caging her completely, and fuck into her with deep, powerful strokes. The counter rocks with each thrust, metal squeaking against the floor, and somewhere in the back of my mind I register that we're making an absolute mess of her workspace.
All I care about is the way she feels wrapped around me, the desperate sounds she makes, the way her inner walls are already starting to flutter with the approach of another orgasm.
"You're perfect," I growl against her throat. "So fierce. So strong. Taking my cock like you were made for it."
"Lanek, I'm going to?—"
"Do it. Come on my cock, little baker. Let me feel it."
She detonates with a wail, her entire body going rigid, inner walls clamping down so hard I nearly lose control. I fuck her through it, drawing out every pulse and flutter, and only whenshe collapses boneless against the counter do I let myself chase my own release.
Three more brutal thrusts and I'm gone, burying myself as deep as physically possible and spilling inside her with a roar that rattles the windows. The orgasm seems to go on forever, wave after wave of intense pleasure, and when I finally come back to myself I'm collapsed over her smaller body, both of us panting and covered in sweat.
"Holy shit," she mumbles against my shoulder.
"Agreed."
"That was?—"
The deafening, shrieking wail of the overhead smoke alarm tears through the intimate moment like a chainsaw through butter, immediately followed by the sudden, icy blast of the fire sprinklers activating.
Freezing water drenches us both in seconds.
Quinn shrieks, and I immediately curl around her, trying to shield her from the worst of it, but it's useless. We're both soaked, the water sluicing off my shoulders and running in rivers down her face. Her carefully pinned hair collapses in wet ribbons. My dress shirt is plastered to my skin.
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!" she yells over the alarm.
I can't help it.
I start laughing.
CHAPTER 9
QUINN
Istand under the cold spray of the fire sprinklers, watching Lanek's shoulders shake with laughter, and I want to simultaneously kiss him again and also murder him with a rolling pin.
"This isn't funny!"
"It is a little funny," he rumbles, his deep voice cutting through the shrieking alarm. Water streams off his massive frame, his ruined dress shirt clinging to every ridiculous muscle. He's still grinning like an absolute menace, completely unbothered by the fact that we're both soaked and half-dressed and my entire bakery is actively flooding.
I shove at his chest, which is about as effective as shoving a brick wall. "Get off me! The fire department is going to be here any second and we need to?—"
