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Her scent fills my nose, warm and rich, like fire, passion personified. Tantalizing. Irresistible.
Her breaths come faster, more shallowly, and I can feel the evidence of her pleasure coating my dick. I know she is close, so I stop touching her clit and change the angle. I don’t want her to come yet. I want this to last as long as possible and I know as soon as she goes off, I’ll follow.
She moans her disappointment. Her frustration, but I just keep going. I’m going to enjoy being inside her for as long as I can.
When she begs me to go let her come, to go harder, deeper, I lift her hips slightly and I slam into her. Hard. Then I pull almost completely out and slam into her hard again. And with each stroke, she makes the most perfect sound of satisfaction. After a minute or two, I resume the pace that had her ready to go over the edge, and she moans with each breath.
“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? That’s right." I grunt. "Take it, Noelle. Take it all, my darling."
Please,” she murmurs, hips rocking to keep pace with me. “Oh, please.”
I reach out and play with her clit just for a second or two before she cries out and her walls start pulsing around me. I grip her hair tightly and follow her over the edge, releasing into her, shuddering against her tiny frame.
When we come down and I pull away. She straightens up on wobbly knees and we adjust our clothes. Hooking the last button of her blouse, she smiles at me, then leans over to capture my lips in hers. Before opening the door, she turns to me. "This is going to end badly,”
Smirking, I wink at her. “But we will have one hell of a ride," I pause. "If you are up for it."
“You’re not usually this agreeable, Mr. Thatcher."
“Neither are you. However, in your case, I like to bend the rules a little, so I’m glad we met halfway."
Tongue-in-cheek, she whispers, "Maybe we can do this again sometime?"
Smiling tenderly at her, I say, "Whenever you want, Miss Quinn."
Chapter Eleven
Noelle
Ifthere’severarecast in Elizabeth Banks' Walk of Shame, I’d be the leading lady.
Slipping back to the cubicle with my head down, I’m more than self-conscious. My eyes darts around quickly, scanning the faces of the people in the lobby, dreading to find a reaction but there’s none. Everyone’s doing their jobs and minding their own business.
God, I’m being paranoid.
Lately, my life has been a whirlwind of me doing the things I never imagined I’d ever do. Finding a potential love interest on a dating app, and going on a date with him, only to be rewarded with the complete opposite of what I was rooting for. A fraud, through and through, and a completely miserable one at that. But it paid off, didn’t it? I was rescued by a perfect, older gentleman who gave me a blissful one-night stand. Who turned out to be my boss.
And now I just had the hottest sex of my life. On his desk.
Seriously, why did he have to be my boss? He could have been an engineer, a fire-fighter.Anything. Anything that didn’t have any remote connection to my personal life.
I know what we just did is wrong, but all I can think about is the feeling of him inside me, stretching my body to accommodate him.
What am I doing saying yes to this arrangement when I know that I could fall for him?
I collapse in my chair and tightly shut my eyes.
How did my life become so complicated?
I should end it. I should do the right thing and stop this thing between Maverick and me. If it means perpetually dodging Chris’s whims, then so be it. I can handle that. I can tell him off, once and for all.
And it’d keep Sara’s sharp tongue away from me.
The one-night stand three days ago was a fluke. Let’s call it momentary insanity by lust. But it also was the biggest highlight of my life.
I’d never done anything like that before. Never gone home with a man I barely know and definitely never slept with a total stranger before.
No matter how free I felt that night, how perfect it was, that is not me. And this situation with Maverick is also not me, so it needs to end.
