When I finally discover him, a guttural moan escapes him. He's rock-hard, and I want him so badly. I slip my hand into the band of his briefs—it's my turn to tease. I slide my palms over his ass and free him, and I can’t help but sneak a peek. He's as glorious as I'd imagined.
He drops to his knees. His fingers slip beneath the waistband of my panties, and with a swift tug, he slides them down my legs, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.
He grabs my leg and hikes it above his shoulder. I inch lower against the door, still half-steady on one shaky leg.
His hot mouth finds my pussy, and he groans as he tastes me for the first time.
Oh, God.
I throw my head back, drowning into oblivion.
I press my sex harder against his mouth, aching for more. I’m so damn close. But he teases and cruelly pulls back. “You taste amazing, but Ineedto fuck you. Now.”
I'm caught off guard when he digs into his pocket and pulls out a condom, ripping the packet with his teeth and rolling it onto his length with a practiced ease that momentarily startles me. How many times has he done this? The thought flutters through my mind, but I push it away. I don't want to think about anything else. I just want this.
He lifts me, pressing me against the door as my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. I can feel his hard-on against my wet, eager pussy, and I bite my lip to stifle a moan. This is really happening, and there's no stopping us—a freight train, undeniably reaching its destination.
He kisses me hard, swallowing my gasps as his hard cock rubs against my pussy. It feels so damn good. I close my eyes as I lose myself to him. There's no coming back from this.
With one swift thrust, he's inside me, filling me whole. I cry out, the sensation of him overwhelming, as he stills for a moment, letting me adjust to him. He's gentle at first, his movements slow and deliberate, but it isn't long before that gentleness gives way to a raw, hard, unforgiving hunger.
He drives into me with an almost punishing rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I cling to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he brings me closer and closer to the edge. Our bodies collide in soft sounds, both of us still fully clothed. The sound of his ragged breath against my ears pushes me in deeper.
I'm teetering on the brink, lost in a whirlwind of sensation, when he bites my bottom lip. It's the final push I need to tumble over the edge, my orgasm tearing through me. My body convulses around him, and hegroans against my mouth as he finds his own release, his body shuddering with the force of it.
For a long moment, we stay like that, locked together against the door, his face buried in the crook of my neck as we both struggle to catch our breath. But as the fog of pleasure begins to clear, reality comes crashing back down around me.
What the fuck have I done?
The guilt hits me like a physical blow, making my stomach churn with nausea. I can't believe I've done this again. I feel dizzy, the room spinning around me as I try to make sense of my actions.
Caine senses my discomfort, and he retreats, giving me the space I need. He presses a soft kiss on my forehead as he pulls his pants back on. "I'll be right back," he says softly. "Don't go anywhere."
Where would I go? I'm frozen against this door, still shaken, still not quite believing what just happened, staring at my pink cotton panties dangling around my right ankle, newly acquainted with my flower-covered Vans sneakers.
As promised, Caine is back in a flash. He instantly reaches for me and takes me in his arms. "I'm sorry."
I'm not sure what he's sorry for, but I'm sorry too, sorry for what we just did.
"I think I'm going to be sick," I mumble, my voice barely audible.
He pulls back to look at me, concern etching his features. Without a word, he gently guides me toward a door at the far end of the office.
We stumble into his private bathroom, a marble-clad sanctuary that's as sleek and sophisticated as the rest of his office. The moment we're inside, I grab my hair and drop to my knees in front of the toilet, retching violently as the full weight of my actions hits me.
Caine is there, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back as he kneels beside me. I'm vaguely aware of his presence, but my focus is solely on the porcelain bowl in front of me, the cold sweat that's broken out across my skin, and the bitter taste of bile in my mouth.
When there's nothing left in my stomach, I collapse back against him, tears streaming down my face. He wraps his arms around me, holding me close as I dissolve into sobs, my body wracked with guilt and shame.
I've made a terrible mistake, one that I'm not sure I'll ever be able to forgive myself for. But in this moment, all I can do is let the tears fall, lost in the arms of the man who's just turned my world upside down.
I sit on Caine's sleek leather sofa, clutching a glass of water he's given me. My hands are still trembling so badly that tiny ripples dance across the surface witheach shallow breath I take. The coolness of the glass against my palms provides a strange comfort, something tangible to focus on while my mind spirals.
He settles beside me, maintaining a careful distance, respecting the invisible barrier I've erected between us. I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. Though only inches separate us physically, the emotional chasm feels impossibly wide as shame continues to wash over me in relentless waves.
"I'm sorry about what just happened," he says softly. “I knew you were vulnerable… I don’t deny that. But I don't regret it. What we did... it isn't shameful, Jenna."
I stare at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. "I feel so guilty. Do you know what this makes me? No better than my mother." My voice breaks. "When I was eight, I was bullied by a teacher, and I ran home to my mother. I walked in on her with our neighbor." My voice sounds hollow, even to my own ears, as the memory crystallizes with painful clarity. "My dad was working a double shift at the factory. He'd been taking extra hours for weeks, trying to save up for our summer vacation." I swallow hard, the glass trembling more violently between my fingers. "She didn't even hear me open the door. They were on the couch—our family couch, where we'd watch movies together on Friday nights. I just stood there frozen, this weird buzzing in my ears drowning everything out except the sound of their... their moans.”
