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His thumb brushed the distended bundle of nerves, one careless flick. That was all it took. She came hard, her back arching, her thighs squeezing around his wrist in time with the rhythmic contractions of her pussy.
She came down as fast as she’d gone up, only to hear him cursing as he fought to remove his pants. She saw the gleam of moisture dampening the dark red head of his cock, his thick length barely fitting in his fist as he circled her opening. Her cunt clutched at him, her body silently begging as he prodded her entrance.
“Tell me you’re on the Pill,” he said hoarsely.
Even if she hadn’t been, just then she might’ve lied. Anything to get him inside her. The command in his voice, the lust in his entrancing dark eyes—God, she would’ve gleefully followed him into hell if he’d only asked.
“I am,” she said, never more grateful it was true.
He slid his tongue between her parted lips as he plunged. He didn’t bother with slow kisses or leisurely thrusts. This was full-out fucking, their bodies joining and separating with a wildness that sent the desk clattering against the wall. She dug her heels dug into his spine to bring him in deeper while her mouth savaged his. Getting more of him inside her—his tongue, his cock, his very breath—was the goal, and she went after it with single-minded purpose.
He shoved her up and down his dick with a ferocity that fueled her desire. The more he lost control, the further she dared him to go.
Take me. All of me.
Moans filled the room, coasting over the redolent scent of sex. He tore his lips free to unleash his punishing kisses on her needy breasts. She clutched at his hair, his shoulders, his back. Any part she could touch. She cried out when the next orgasm speared through her, blasting along her frayed nerve endings and leaving them smoking. Her hips pumped madly against his, her nails slicing at his arms as he pushed into her again and again.
“Fill me up,” she gasped. And she didn’t mean with his cock, because if she got any fuller she’d need medical attention.
He never responded well to direction and now was no exception. He continued to stroke into her, the sweetest invasion she’d ever known. Only when her pussy started to undulate once more did she feel the subtle expansion in his length and the pulse of pressure that warned he was about to come. A jagged exhale followed by the closest thing to an actual shout she’d heard from him rent the air, and then he was driving deeper, burying himself as far as he could go as she wrapped her arms around him and held on.
She’d heard of women saying a man emptied himself inside her, but she’d never actually felt or seen it. Not like this. When Spencer finally pulled back, his features looked drawn, as if every ounce of his energy had drained right through his balls and out through his cock. She wanted to laugh at the absolutely wasted look on his face, but the desolation in his eyes curbed the urge.
“Let’s play hooky,” she said, framing his cheeks in her hands. She was afraid to let go even for a second. “We’ll stay in bed all day. Spencer, please.”
She knew he’d say no. He always did. Was that why she couldn’t get enough? Because he never gave her anything substantial to hang on to?
“I can’t.” Already he was closing off, his eyes shuttering. “But you can. You need your sleep.”
He pulled out of her and she wanted to yell, wanted to kick something. Wanted to kick him. Why did he make this so damn hard? Why was she fighting so much for something she’d never have?
Kelly jumped off the desk when he reached for his pants. “If you’re going, I’m going,” she said instead of the pleas quivering on her tongue. “I’m grabbing a shower,” she added, hurrying toward the door before he could see her eyes.
She w
asn’t crying. Not even close. But she knew what she felt would be right there, burning for anyone to see. Unlike him, she didn’t know how to keep her feelings locked away. They kept bursting out of her, demanding to be heard. And she didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to keep them from ruining everything.
“Kelly. Wait.”
She turned, gripping the doorframe. The rawness of his voice made her ache but she didn’t go to him.
“Take your shower. Then come back to bed.” The tired smile he gave her made her heart rejoice. “We have another hour. Maybe we can both get a little more sleep.”
She wanted to skip the shower and hurtle into his arms. Every little morsel he tossed her way made her so utterly grateful, as if he’d just presented her with a bow-wrapped sports car. A smile, a touch, her name on his lips—she craved it all.
“Okay,” she whispered over the lump in her throat.
This time there was a tear, just one that snuck by her defenses before she shored them up again. She hurried away before he could see it, ashamed she could be so easily broken.
Even so, she knew she’d take the risk of the fall over walking away. Anything was better than that.
* * * * *
Spencer was at his desk by seven a.m. He’d dropped Kelly off at the club to get her car early enough for her to get to the store on time, which left him up freakishly early. But he hadn’t headed to work right away.
First he’d gone to the gym and driven himself through a punishing routine on the machines. Even when his muscles screamed, he hadn’t stopped. If he hadn’t been such a textbook case of a man severely in over his head, he might’ve laughed at his own actions.
Rather than laugh, he worked.
