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“Yes.” I whimper my agreement, and it spurs a sexy as fuck groan from his lungs that I swear I can feel all the way to my fucking toes.
He doesn’t waste any time after that, lifting me up by my ass and wrapping my legs around his waist, and walking us off the elevator.
Fuck if I really even know what’s happening. I’m too focused on kissing him.
I never want to not be kissing him.
I press my hips to his, and he somehow manages to unlock his apartment door.
I moan against his mouth, and before I know it, we’re inside.
And then we lose ourselves to each other. We’re all hands and lips and teeth and tongues. We’re touching and kissing and panting, and it’s like we both want to be doing all of the things, all at the same time.
He tosses me down onto his bed with a sexy ease that makes my stomach spasm.
He steps forward and puts a purposeful hand to the back of my dress.
My breath catches in my throat, and out of desperation, I start to pant. My mind feels foggy but euphoric, and the zipper of my dress isn’t even halfway down yet.
“Trent,” I gasp, grabbing at his hair as he kisses his way across my breasts, drags the velvet fabric down with his teeth, and closes his mouth tightly over my nipple.
I arch my back and bicycle my feet on the floor, trying to find some kind of metaphorical stability for my spinning head.
I’d say I don’t know how we got here, panting and moaning and half naked on the bed, but I do.
I know so hard.
You can’t have this much attraction, this much sexual tension, between two people without a fucking explosion.
And that’s what this is right now. The fucking explosion.
I may be a strong, independent, goal-oriented woman who doesn’t need a man, but I need this one.
I need him bad.
My feet give up the fight to find the floor and defer to my legs as they clamp around his hips and pull him closer.
His weight feels delicious and decadent on top of me, and his lips are exploring me so thoroughly, it feels like they’re all over, all at once.
“Trent,” I moan, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer.
He fights it, though, pulling the straps of my dress off my shoulders and sliding it down my body first.
When he comes back, bare chest against my chest, I nearly pass out from the warmth of it.
“Trent,” I call, but he ignores me, kissing my neck with suction just light enough that it won’t leave a mark.
I pant his name again, wanting his lips, wanting his eyes, wanting him inside me so bad it hurts. But he continues to ignore me, and you could say that was the moment that broke the vagina’s patience.
I grab his hair and pull, and he groans, but when I’m done, his eyes are on mine and his attention is avid.
“Stop fucking around and slide your dick inside of me.”
His laugh is raucous as he shakes his head, so I bump him to get his attention again, adding a little slap to his ass for good measure.
“I’m serious.”
“And I’m serious about taking my time,” he challenges.
“Bone me right now,” I order. “Take out your hammer and start nailing some wood.”
“Greer—”
“Do it! Put your P in my V and—”
“Lie back,” he cuts me off to order. And suddenly, Date Trent and Boss Trent have formed some sort of super Dom sex mix, and I’m powerless. I am at his command, a willing and able submissive. “I’m going to eat your pussy first, and I’m going to enjoy it. Don’t even bother trying to talk me out of it.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, and he smirks.
“Is this what it takes to get you to follow orders?”
“Ordering me to accept your sexual pleasure?” I say with a laugh. “Yes. Yes, it is.”
“I’ll have to remember that at the office.”
“We don’t have an office,” I scoff.
“We should get one.”
“Less talk, more action, sir.”
He winks, pulls my panties down my legs, and gets right to work.
And holy hell, is he a dedicated worker.
Tongue swirls, sucking kisses, touches, and tickles—he uses it all to work me into a frenzy so hard I’m screaming. I come with his mouth and I come with his cock, and when we’re done, I know without a doubt, it’s the most noise his apartment has ever created.
Trent
I wake up at exactly six a.m. But not for the reason of work or responsibilities.
I wake up because of Greer.
She is here, in my apartment, in my bed, gloriously naked and sleeping peacefully beside me.
Her eyes are closed, her long lashes fan out across her cheeks, and her lips showcase the hint of a smile. And soft, even breaths encourage her breasts to move up and down gently.
