Page 108 of 13 Rules For Fantastic Phone Sex

“My place,” she says with a tug at my tie. It’s charming and, let’s be honest, incredibly hot. “Come with me?”

“No, mine is super close, two minutes away,” I say in protest. “Two minutes walking, max.”

Stop talking, Henry. The woman wants to show you where she lives. She’s not running away. Let her.

She laughs and points to a window on the other side of the street, a few stories above the Bean, with a view of the park. “I’m closer.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

KAITLIN

We sprint to my apartment, make out in the elevator, and stumble into my apartment breathless, barely closing the door before he’s pulling me into the hard planes of his body, my entire being singing with desperation that only he can satisfy. He slams the door shut and pins me to it. His fingertips scald where they touch the bare skin of my nape, tilting my head to the perfect angle to better ravish my mouth.

It isn’t the way his hips are pressed into me or the way he’s pulling me closer with every slide of his lips over mine. Nor is it the way the rasp of his barely-there stubble against my neck sends sparks of pleasure cascading over me. No, it’s his words, spilling out between soft kisses, and the voice I’ve missed so damn badly that I ached with it. The man I’ve wanted beyond all reason.

“I’ve dreamed of having you in my arms,” he says. “Kait, you don’t know what you do to me.” And softer, “I’ve missed you more than I can say.”

His tongue tangles with mine, long, drugging kisses that pull moans from me. Hard, fast kisses that stoke the heat that keeps building, hotter, demanding. Henry pulls back, mouth puffy from dragging along mine. His breath is fast and shallow, his eyes blazing with unquenched need. He tries to get his coat off me, and we bump into the wall. Only his quick reflexes keep a frame from crashing to the floor.

“Not here, babes. We can’t be damaging your work.”

Henry unbuttons the coat and shoves it off my shoulders while he surveys the room. He throws his suit jacket on my couch as he pushes me into the living room while we tear at each other, soft and sweet gone after a blink, then sits in my chair, pulling me onto his lap. I straddle him, my dress hiked up to expose my panties. The pressure of his hard body is delicious, but when he spreads his legs, pushing mine further apart, I am undone.

His mouth is total annihilation. He claims mine until I’m moaning into him, fisting his shirt to keep him close. He runs his hand from my knee up my thigh, a slow trace of my skin that leaves a trail of burning flesh. Despite my best efforts to stay still, I get closer. I want every part of him touching every part of me. I’m desperate for the pressure of him, for the sounds he makes when he’s undone.

I’m a frenzy of need. My body craves his, and despite the way I’ve dreamed and fantasized with this man, I’ve woefully underestimated the absolute fucking ecstasy that is touching Henry Sterling.

“So good,” I say as he nibbles my neck. He groans, then kisses me again, harder, deeper.

He pulls back, eyes glazed and out of breath, and whispers, “You’re perfect for me, so fucking perfect, Kait.” As always, hearing him so worked up that he starts dropping curses sends me flying. I’ve never been this turned on in my life.

I pull at his tie, but his lips, his hands, the way he says my name, it’s all too distracting, and I give up. His voice alone is enough to end me. The more he talks, the harder he pushes up against me, and the pressure is glorious. A stiff breeze could throw me over the edge.

“I want you so much,” I whisper.

He exhales, a heaving sigh. He leans back a few inches, and I follow him, his hands teasing down my back and over my ass before caressing their way back up. He buries one hand in my hair and drags his thumb over my lips, then my cheekbone, before leaning in to gently brush his lips over mine, then pulling back.

I never expected this. Not tonight, or ever.

He stops and looks at me, his eyes fiery with lust, but his hands are gentle. He’s put himself in my chair again, and I’m here for it. My jaw sags as he loosens his tie, and it takes every last fiber of my willpower not to grab his shirt and rip it free of the buttons keeping my hands from his skin.

His eyes are locked on me when he yanks on his belt and unbuttons his pants with haste but then, with a dirty little smirk, leaves his zipper alone.

“You dirty fucking tease,” I say, trying not to sound needy and failing. He’s having a grand time; the brilliant smile on his face keeps growing as I drag his zipper down.

He closes his eyes and tilts his head back with a low groan as I slide my hand down to expose the slick head of his cock to my thumb. I can’t drag my eyes away from his face. The way his mouth falls open a tiny bit as he huffs out little sounds of pleasure, the way his neck arches back with a tortured gasp as I caress the slippery tip.

I want to peek at my fingers teasing him, but when I start to look away, he does this slutty little lip lick that keeps me locked on target. He’s entirely too pleased with himself, a wicked grin dancing about his lips as he devours me with a glance. I’m a sucker for the boldness mixed with the blush spreading across his cheeks.

One drag of his fingertips along the lace of my panties, and I am gone. I want more of him. I give up on his tie and buttons and tug his shirt out of his pants to slide my hand up his warm belly, inhaling his lemon-and-cologne scent as I drag my nails over his hot, soft skin. Another overwhelming kiss, and I’m shoving his shirt up, trying to learn the dips and planes of him with my fingertips.

I need his skin on mine. I’ve been starved for his touch, teased to the brink and denied in the most excruciating ways. I taste his neck and pinch his nipples. His harsh inhale is a warning, a tease before he grabs my wrists and pins them to my hips in a flash and grinds up against me. The show of force has me rocking into him. I need more. He cants his hips just right, and I moan, loud and long, even with the fabric of my panties between my desperate flesh and his rigid cock.

More.

Now.

The needier I am, the more Henry moves at the leisurely pace of pleasure torture. He gives me all of the kisses: gentle nips, hard and deep, soft brushes, and a nibble on my bottom lip. Slow until I’m ready to scream and every nerve ending is tuned to his frequency. He touches me, and I’m wild with want, but he holds my hands in his viselike grip as my desperation climbs.