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“Right. I know. I just wanted to see how your sister was doing.”
“She’s good.” He burns me with his dark gaze. “Ever done it in an elevator?”
God. My cheeks. They must be on fire.
“Have you?” I ask.
“When would I have had the chance, Vannah? You know where I’ve been the past eight years.”
“Then I guess we’re both elevator virgins.” I laugh nervously.
“Not after tonight.” He pushes the button for the basement.
“What if someone calls for the lift?” I ask.
“Lift? Are you British today?” His gaze smolders.
“No. I mean, my nanny was from the UK. I grew up with both words.”
Shit. Now he knows I had a nanny. I’ve got to watch what I say. Though he doesn’t seem fazed. Bellamy and Cooper money most likely equaled a nanny or two when he was a kid.
“We’ll go all the way to the lowest floor,” he says, “and then I’ll press the stop button.”
“Won’t that sound an alarm?”
“Yup.”
“And they’ll call the police?”
“Probably not.”
“But they might.”
“I doubt it. They’ll alert the maintenance crew, but by the time they get in place, the lift”—his lips curve slightly—“will be going again.”
“So another quickie,” I say, disappointment lacing my tone.
“I’m happy to spend more time on your gorgeous body, Vannah, but you’ll have to let me come to your place.”
“I…can’t.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve got friends staying with me.” I sigh. “But that’s not even the point, Falcon, and you know it. This is…wrong.”
“But it feels so right.” His hot breath caresses my neck.
The elevator stops at the bottom floor, and true to his word, Falcon pushes the stop button.
Then he stares at me, his dark eyes so beautiful and so full of desire.
So full of something else too…
Darkness.
A darkness I long to penetrate. Prison changes a person. I should know. And this man was called Savage for a reason.
I’d do well to remember that.
He pulls me to him, kisses me deeply, and then breaks the kiss and turns me so I’m facing the back of the elevator.
“Cameras,” I eke out.
“Not from this angle,” he says.
“You sure?”
“Nope.”
“Oh, God…”
And I don’t care. I don’t fucking care. I don’t care if the whole damned world sees me. I want this more than I care.
He grips my thighs, edges my skirt up and around my hips. Then my panties. Simple white cotton. If only I were wearing a lace thong. But I hate thongs. They’re so uncomfortable.
He grasps the white fabric, shoves it down until it’s on the floor. I instinctively step out of it. I’m wearing wedge sandals and a V-neck T-shirt with a cotton sweater. He leaves everything else in place, and then…
The snap of his jeans, the zing of his zipper…
And the hard thrust of his cock.
“Say you want it, Vannah. Say you want what I’m doing to you.”
“Falcon…”
“Say it, or I’ll stop.”
“God, no. Don’t stop.”
“Then say it. Tell me you want it. Tell me you want this. You want me.”
I grit my teeth, close my eyes. “Yes, I want this. I want you, Falcon. I want you.”
He pulls out and thrusts back in. “So tight, Vannah. So fucking tight. Do you have any idea how you affect me? How I react just by seeing you? How that first night I imagined your tight little pussy hugging my cock like it is now? Fuck. Reality is so much better than my imagination. So fucking much better.”
He pulls out and thrusts in again.
This time the sensation travels all the way to my clit, and one more thrust and—
“God, yes!”
“That’s it, baby doll. You come for me. You come all over my big cock.”
Thrust, thrust, thrust….
“Falcon, my God…”
My eyes well with tears. Why? I don’t know. I only know that this climax is taking me to someplace emotional, someplace foreign. Someplace new and exciting and damned near heavenly.
“Keep it coming, Vannah. Keep it— Fuck!”
He pushes into me hard, and I feel him release in me. I’m still reeling from my own climax, and knowing he’s feeling what I’m feeling takes me even higher.
He stays inside me, and then his lips… They glide over my neck, and his teeth. They scrape the soft flesh.
Chills skitter over me, in direct contradiction to the heat of our bodies. It’s sensational. So erotic.
I feel suspended in time.
Suspended in nirvana.
Until he pulls out of me, and I hear him zip up.
I turn reluctantly, meet his dark gaze. He bends down, picks up my panties, and hands them to me. I shove them in my purse while I pull my skirt back down over my thighs.
Falcon says nothing. Simply pushes the stop button back in place. The doors open, and a uniformed maintenance guy stands there.
“Seems to be working now,” Falcon says.
The maintenance man rolls his eyes. “If you say so.”
Embarrassment wells through me. I’m sure I’m red as a beet.
Falcon pushes the “doors close” button, and we head back up to six.
