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My head is spinning.
All I can taste is Sloan.
All I can feel and smell and hear is Sloan.
The way his body presses against mine, the way his hands grope at my hips and then move lower to grab my ass, pawing at me through the fabric of my jeans. He smells the way he always does, the distinctive scent of his cologne invading my nostrils, and the scent of arousal cuts through it, swirling in the air around us.
His breathing is ragged when we part for breath for a second, and he looks down at me, taking me in, before attacking my mouth once again, pushing his tongue past the barrier of my lips and conquering me with his mouth.
It’s gone past the ruse now. He’s stolen my sanity like he always does, and it’s just my body responding to his, echoing every moan, every grunt of desire. His hands grope at me, and I let mine do the same, sliding under his shirt and raking my nails down his back.
“Fuck,” he swears, exhaling the word into our kiss. He pushes me back against the edge of the desk a bit more, making it dig into the flesh of my upper thighs. I don’t even care. All I can focus on is the way he’s pressed hot and hard to my front, the way I can feel that heat pouring off him, and the way his skin feels under my hands.
He works his mouth down my neck, alternating between biting kisses and the hot drag of his tongue. When he hits the spot where my pulse flutters wildly, I shudder against him, grinding forward like I’m trying to find some friction.
Sloan yanks my bra strap out of the way and bites down on my shoulder, making me gasp sharply with the explosion of pain and pleasure mingled together.
We’re both panting for breath, rutting against each other while our hands wander. With a jerk, Sloan pulls me forward away from the desk and walks me toward his bed. His strong fingers find the clasp of my bra and undo it, sending the piece of lingerie to the floor and leaving my chest bare for him.
His eyes devour the sight of me, and once again his gaze is so heavy that I swear I can feel it tracing over every inch of my chest.
“Fuck,” he says again, and then he’s on me, hands cupping my tits, pushing them together before he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth.
“Sloan, god,” I moan, arching against him.
He doesn’t respond, instead turning his teeth to the soft mounds of my breasts, biting and sucking at them in turn. His hands don’t stop their squeezing, and it’s all going to my head so fast, making me shiver and close my eyes.
“You’re so fucking—”
Whatever he’s going to say gets lost as he groans again, rubbing both thumbs over my nipples. I open my eyes just in time to see him come to some decision, and he pushes me down onto the bed before I can say or do anything, following me down a second later.
He rises up on his knees and pulls the gun he had tucked into his waistband out, setting it off to the side on the bed.
My legs are spread wide, leaving very little to the imagination, and he kneels between them, hovering over me. I can tell he’s hard through his jeans, the bulge pressing against the front and showing off just how much he wants me.
In spite of everything that’s going on and how conflicted I feel, I’m still wet. Arousal is soaking into my panties and jeans, and my clit pulses with a hungry, aching want.
Sloan grabs on to me again, and we roll over, putting him on his back and me on top, straddling him. I look down at him, and fuck, it’s a sight. His cheeks are flushed, and his steel-gray eyes are dark. His pupils are blown wide with lust, the blackness of his irises flooding into everything else. His lips are parted, and he licks them while I watch, reminding me of the time in the locker room again, when he put that mouth to good use and made me nearly scream for him.
Reaching up, he drags me down into another kiss, and I don’t fight it. His lips are demanding and hot, and I sink
into it easily, licking into his mouth again. It’s like I can’t get enough, like I need the taste of him to flood my senses in order to keep going. To keep existing.
I close my eyes again, caught up in the feelings cascading through me. It’s all so much. Too fucking much.
The guilt, the anger, the lust.
They pile on top of each other, each one roaring through me on the heels of the other until it’s impossible to untangle them. Nothing with this man has ever been easy, and I don’t think it ever will be. Hating him should be the simplest thing in the world, but my head keeps getting fucked up.
Sloan starts kissing and biting at my neck again, and I lose the thread of my thoughts, everything going fuzzy and hazy as I burn for him like a piece of tinder under a match.
I moan his name again and again. He bites down hard on my neck once more, and I squirm against him, sucking in a breath and turning my head to give him better access.
As I do, my gaze lands on the laptop on the desk.
It’s still partially open.
Fuck.
