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He leaned down and captured a nipple between his teeth, biting before soothing it with his tongue. I felt a jolt between my legs and nuzzled against him.
Christian slipped his hand up my skirt and fingered the edges of my underwear. “Fucking love skirts.”
He pushed the material to the side, and his thumb went right to my clit. I was already wet, so his finger slipped easily inside. He thrust in and out a few times before pulling all the way out and pushing back in with two fingers. It didn’t take long before it was too much. I needed him inside me.
“Please…” Reaching for the waist of his pants, I couldn’t wait any longer.
Christian grabbed my hand. “I don’t have anything on me, sweetheart. Just let me make you come.”
He pumped his fingers in and out again. There was no doubt he could get me there, but I wanted him so damn bad.
“Christian,” I panted. “I’m on the pill.”
His fingers froze. “Are you saying you want me bare, baby?”
I nodded. “I’m clean, and I trust you if you say you are.”
He looked up at the ceiling. “Today is just all the gifts from you.”
Christian removed the hand that had stopped mine at his waist. I was grateful he’d come after practice, and we didn’t have to waste time with a zipper and button. I smiled and reached into his easy-access pants. “Fucking love sweats.”
He chuckled, but his face grew serious as I freed his cock and lined him up at my entrance. “I can feel how hot and wet you are already. This isn’t going to be pretty.”
I pushed my hips forward so his crown dipped inside. “It’s okay. As long as it’s hard.”
Christian grumbled a string of curses as he pushed inside in one rough thrust, burying himself deep. It was exactly what I needed.
“Oh my God. Yes!” I yelled. “Like that.”
He clamped a hand over my mouth before pumping again. And again. And again. I knew he liked it when I maintained eye contact, but by the fourth hard thrust, I lost the battle and my eyes rolled back in my head. When I began to whimper into his palm, Christian tilted my hips and hit the perfect spot. Each thrust milked my orgasm more and more. After I started to level out, he unclasped his hand from my mouth.
“Hold on to the sides of the desk,” he grunted.
If I’d thought it was hard before, I had another thing coming. The desk shook, my body shook, and I didn’t just need to hold on to the desk, I had to white knuckle as he increased the intensity of his thrusts. Christian fucked me like it was the Super Bowl of all fucking. His eyes lost focus as he planted himself one last time and let go.
It took a few minutes for our breathing to return to normal. “Wow.” I shook my head. I’d never experienced an earthquake before, but I imagined when it was over, it felt a lot like I did at the moment—aftershocks rippling through me and not quite certain what had just happened.
Christian brushed damp hair from my face and smiled. “Yeah. That’s all I got too.” He kissed me softly. “I don’t want to move. But if I don’t get us something, you’re going to be wearing me all over the skirt that’s still under your ass. Stay here.”
I found the command not to move amusing, considering my legs felt like Jell-O, and I barely had the energy to speak.
Christian went into the bathroom and came back with a towel. He thumbed over his shoulder as he pressed the cloth between my legs. “I’ve never been in there. That bathroom is bigger than your apartment.”
I smiled and took the towel from him to finish cleaning myself up. “Not for long. I called a realtor. I’m going to look for a new apartment with a little more space.”
Christian studied me.
“What?”
“You told Julian you weren’t interested, outed us, let me have you bare, and you’re going to find a new apartment. Not that I’m complaining, but what brought about all the change?”
I finished righting my disheveled clothes and shrugged. “I’m not sure. I guess it was just time.”
“Time for what?”
I thought about that for a minute, then held out my hand to Christian. “Time to start trusting again.”
CHAPTER 22
* * *
CHRISTIAN
“Hey, what are you doing tonight?”
I’d called Coach as I walked out of practice. I hadn’t been to see him lately, between being busy back at work and spending time with Bella. So I’d asked if she minded if I brought him to Wyatt’s game later. After he stopped coaching, he still loved going to watch the young kids play, but he didn’t get to do it often since the stroke.
“Big plans,” he said. “Gonna decide between the Stouffer’s baked chicken with mashed potatoes or the Marie Callender’s chicken pot pie. Why? You want to come have the other one?”
