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It’s almost embarrassing how quickly I come. But maybe that’s because I’ve been so hollow these past few weeks, and this is the first drop of something good.
Mr. Suit rests his cheek against my thigh, his stubble a pleasant scratch against my tender skin. But he doesn’t come up, instead kissing me again. Softly at first so I shudder and squirm, but as he builds up the pressure that too-sensitive feeling starts to shatter into something power and desperate. He swipes his tongue over my clit, flicking and teasing while his finger presses against my entrance.
“I didn’t think I was ready yet,” I pant. “But my God that feels good.”
It’s strange, a sensation of too-much and not-enough and everything in between. He works me like a master, making my body go liquid and my pussy pulse. “You want me to keep going?” The words are muffled against my sex and the movement of his lips sends pleasure flaring through me.
“Yes.” I arch into him, flinging one arm over my eyes to blot out the senses that don’t matter right now. I only care about touch—his lips against my most private part, the feel of his finger working in and out of me, curling in a way that hits me deep and right. “Don’t stop. Please.”
Satisfied, he feasts on me. Bright bursts of light shatter behind my lids, and release rushes up from deep inside. I cry out, because it’s all I can do. The feeling is intense and I come harder than I’ve ever come before. I’m grinding against his face, taking everything from him. Taking it all.
When I sag back against the bed, my limbs heavy and my heart racing, the world slowly filters back. There’s a thump from the apartment above us, and the sound of a door closing somewhere. The scent of Mr. Suit’s aftershave dances in my nostrils and the bed shifts as he comes up beside me. I’m feeling everything now—feeling it with a sensitivity that’s new. Even the gentlest brush of cool air ripples across my heated skin in a way that feels foreign and exciting.
It’s like he’s turned up the dial so I feel as though I’m experiencing it all for the first time.
“I don’t know if I can move,” I admit, grinning and trying to turn away to hide it.
But Mr. Suit isn’t having it, and he draws my back to him. I feel the hard press of his cock against my butt and it’s impossible, but I’m so turned on I don’t even want a minute more to rest. I rock back against him, eliciting a moan. His strong arms wrap around me and his lips come down by my ear.
“You’re good to keep going?” he asks. His voice is roughened and darkly sexy.
“That’s like asking a girl if she wants to keep eating a piece of cheesecake after she’s only had one bite.” I catch the quirk of a smile on his lips. “Yes. I’m good to keep going.”
He chuckles and pulls away for a moment. There’s the sound of rummaging and when I roll over, I see him going through his drawer. “I swear I had some in here.”
“Been a while?”
He shoots me a look over his shoulder that tells me not to prod, but I’m a little warmed by the idea that we’re both dipping our toes back into the waters together. For some reason, it makes me feel comforted. Safe. I admire his ass until he finally produces a foil packet from the depths of his sock drawer.
“Are you worried I’m out of practice?” He rolls the condom down his length. Watching a guy handle himself has always gotten me hot—there’s something so primal about it. So...animalistic.
“No.” I resist the urge to tell him that it makes me feel less intimidated, but I decide to keep that information to myself. This isnotabout being vulnerable. “With a mouth like that, I’m sure I have nothing to worry about.”
A wicked smile lights up his face and he comes down to the bed, dragging me beneath him. Mr. Suit brushes the hair from my face and hovers over me for a second—not rushing. Not racing toward the finish line. He seems like the kind of guy who likes to enjoy the anticipation.
“You were right about something that first night,” he says, scraping his teeth along my neck and grazing my skin with his stubble-coated jaw.
“What’s that?”
“Ididwant to fuck you the second I opened the door to the stairwell.”
“I knew it,” I reply smugly. “I could see it in your eyes.”
“You’re hot. That’s no secret.” He kisses down my chest and draws one nipple into his mouth. The pressure makes my sex pulse and I suck in a moan. “Wearing that tiny little skirt and those high-heeled boots...fuck. There was no way I was going to get that image out of my head.”
The comment sets off a little warning bell inside me, but I brush it aside. That’s why I’m here—mutual attraction. Nothing more. If he sees me as a piece of ass, then that’s fine. This is just sex. I don’t even know his real name and that’sexactlyhow I want it.
But the damned voice in the back of my mind whispers its disagreement.
“And then none of that mattered the second you opened your smartass mouth.” He nips at my breast, then soothes the mark with his tongue. He’s driving me mad—giving me enough to keep the pleasurable feeling swirling, but going no further.
I rock my hips up, trying to encourage him to push into me. But instead he rubs back and forth, the tip of his cock bumping against my clit in a way that makes me ache. He’s teasing me, getting me so wound up I know I’m going to burst the second he enters me.
“There’s nothing sexier than a woman who doesn’t take any shit.” He works his way back up to my face.
“I thought I wasn’t your type.” I reach down between us and wrap my hand around his cock, squeezing. The little power play that’s been going on between us since day one is addictive—it’s a sexy game of cat and mouse, only I have no idea who’s the predator and who’s the prey.
“I didn’t think you were.” He lowers his head to mine and kisses me hard. I taste traces of myself on him, the scent of sex and power and lust drawing me deeper into the moment. I guide his cock to my entrance, showing him what I want. “But no other woman has ever tempted me to break my own rules.”
