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It was no surprise that his hoarse cries ricocheted around the elevator alongside mine, and our panting breaths merged into one delicious soundtrack as I took a second to savor the magic we made together.
When one of his hands cupped my ass, I thought he was going to lower me to the ground, but he didn’t. He held me closer, one arm sliding to the center of my back, as he directed, “Push the ‘Open Doors’ button.”
I peeked over his shoulder, and found we were by the console. I did as he asked, and the doors whirred open. He strode through, straight down the hall, and carried on to the bedroom. Only when we were standing by the bed did he urge me back, and when he did, he pressed a kiss to my lips, murmuring, “Thank you.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just bowed my head, feeling unbelievably shy as he helped me to my feet. When I was standing there, shaky on my high heels, he supported me as he looked me over.
When I peeped up at him, wondering what he was thinking, I saw the glint in his eyes and basked in it. Once again feeling like that flower which was finally allowed to be in the sun.
There was heat and, even better, possessiveness.
I could see him stamping it all over me.
HIS.
I might as well have flashing lights over my head, and I was more than okay with that.
Morethan okay.
He reached down and tugged at my skirt, not stopping until it was pooling around my knees and then sinking to the floor. He traced his fingers over the garter belt, then murmured, “You may have just created a problem.”
Concern whipped at me, but I modulated my tone, asking, “What kind of problem?”
“You wear panties again and I might have to make you stand in the corner.”
My lips twitched as relief battered me. “Oh, well, that’s something I can keep up.”
He hummed, his fingers tracing my bare pussy, and I knew he could see the cum starting to seep out, making my inner thighs sticky. His fingers swirled in it and he asked, “Does this bother you?”
Was it comfortable? Not really.
Did it bother me?
“No.”
He narrowed his eyes as he lifted those sticky, filthy fingers and pressed them to my lips. I parted them instantly, letting him stick them in my mouth, cleaning them up as expected. When he went a little too deep and I gagged, that heat flickered into a fire, but I didn’t pull back, just let him fuck my mouth with his cum-soaked digits until he was happy.
A grunt escaped him when he stopped, but I could see from the tension in his jaw that he was ready for round two.
Eagerness filled me, but before I could get too excited, he murmured, “Get into bed. I’ll join you later.”
I blinked at him. “It’s only eleven.”
“You need your sleep.”
I frowned, about to argue, but he tapped my bottom lip. “I’ll join you in a little while.”
My mouth parted, not to accept his fingers, but to argue, “Are you going out?”
“No. I have work to do downstairs.” His eyes darkened. “Rest. I won’t be long.” He pulled back, jaw clenching as he looked me over. I thought he’d go, but he didn’t. His hand grabbed my ass and he squeezed it, dragging me against his chest, rumbling, “Mine, Camille. No other fucker’s.”
Heart in my throat, I whispered, “Yours. No one else’s.”
He grunted again, then let go, only I never wanted him to let me go. I wanted him to hold onto me forever.
Brennan O’Donnelly had started out as a life raft. A last, desperate chance at a future that was of my own making. Now? He was turning into something else. Something far more dangerous than Abramovicz could ever be...
Something I didn’t dare put a name to.
