“Slade!” I cry in relief as the tense set of his jawline comes into view on the screen.
“It’s me, New York City,” he replies, looking into the camera, the tautness in his face easing a little. “Can I come up?”
“I’m giving you five seconds, then you better damn well be up here.” I slam the button to let him in.
I’m opening the front door, my heart hammering as he races up the final stairs and storms over to me.
He slams the door behind him, backing me up against the wall, an animalistic hunger in his eyes that has heat firing through my body.
“Five,” I taunt.
He rests one forearm on the wall beside my head, his bicep bulging as he drinks me in.
“I fucking missed you last night. And today. And every damn second before this.”
I tilt my head back so I can meet his eyes that are filled with a primal longing. They’re blue, and the sight makes me shiver.
“You did?”
He reaches up, stalling before the backs of his fingers meet my cheek, and his voice drops to a low rasp. “Can I touch you?”
My body sings in response, practically begging me to tear my clothes off and throw myself at him. This explosive charge between us that’s always been there hasn’t lessened. It’s only embedded itself deeper into me.
“You’re asking permission?”
“I am. Because there’s no guarantee I’ll ever stop if you say yes.”
I hoped he’d touch me last night.Reallytouch me. I’ve needed him to touch me for weeks. Ever since that last time.
I’ve needed it more than air.
“Do it,” I say.
His pupils flare. Then he’s on me. Kissing me, sinking his hand into my hair and fisting it, shoving my pencil skirt up around my waist so he can hook my legs behind the knee and wrap them around his hips—pushing the solid, thick length of himself against my rapidly dampening panties.
We need to talk. I know we do. He knows we do. There’s so much to say. Yet right now, nothing is as urgent as being together again. It’s been weeks since he pushed inside me, forcing me to stretch around his delicious thickness. Weeks since I looked into his eyes as he made me come undone.
The talking can wait.
We both need this.
“Jude,” Slade groans into our kiss as I whimper, digging my nails into his shoulders to pin myself to him. “Fuck, Baby. I need to be inside you.Please.”
The begging almost makes me come on the spot. I yank his zipper down so I can run my hand up his shaft. His piercings slip beneath my fingers in glorious cool metal ridges. He groans, kissing me harder, and our teeth clash as he yanks my panties to one side.
He drives into me with one brutal thrust.
“Fuck!”
“Yes!”
I rest my head against the wall as we pause and stare at one another, panting.
“You good?” he asks.
“It feels… okay,” I tease.
His eyes glint as he starts to move. There’s no slow build-up, he goes straight into riding me hard against the wall.
