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I was right there, so close. I gripped his shoulders tighter; I probably drew blood. Who knows? At that moment, I didn’t care.
Just a little more…
“Oh god, yes,” I cried as he thrust in deeper than ever before, so deep his pelvis hit up against my clit, and I was done for.
I threw back my head and screamed as wave upon wave of orgasmic bliss shot through every fiber of my body.
I was still riding the waves when he thrust in deep and his cock jerked inside me, shooting his load while he groaned like someone was tearing the sound right out of him.
How strange is it that I wish he wasn’t wearing a condom? Very strange. Definitely strange. And definitely never happening.
Despite the mind-blowing orgasm, I had to fight the urge to draw him back when he slid out of me a moment later. I’m not sure my pussy ever wanted him to leave.
When he did leave, though, he ditched the condom in a trash can by the desk and headed for the door, closing it the few remaining inches.
“You knew it was open?” I asked as I stretched and arched my back, though those weren’t really the muscles that needed soothing.
“Damn right, I did,” he said, smiling like the devil. “After the show you were putting on out there, I didn’t want any of my boys in doubt about who this fine pussy belongs to,” he said, sliding a hand down my abdomen and cupping said pussy.
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “I believe it belongs to me.”
He smiled, but this time, his eyes looked pained. “God, I wish you were right about that, darling.”
I probably would have enquired further, but at the same time, he slid a finger along my slit, then thrust it inside me, proving he could find that sensitive patch of flesh inside me just as well with his fingers as he had with his cock. A cock that was already beginning to thicken and lengthen.
Well, if you were going to make a giant mistake, it might as well be with a man with incredible stamina.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Brute
“I think we’ve thoroughly crossed out of one-night-stand territory,” Greta said as she zipped up her jeans and slid her feet into her strappy shoes with the sky high heels.
Next time, the shoes were staying on. Wearing nothing but her jewelry and those heels? Yeah, that would be one hell of a sight.
“So, do you maybe want to help me figure out what the hell this is?” she asked, throwing on her shirt and covering up flesh that I just don’t think was ever meant to be covered up.
“Let’s not try to put a name to it, darling.” I wasn’t sure I could if I tried. “I just know I’m not finished with you yet, and I don’t think you’re finished with me either.”
“So, we just keep doing this until we’re finished?” She phrased it like a question, but it felt more like she was testing the words on her tongue.
I nodded while I threw on my cut, watching her eyes, trying to figure out what was going through that pretty head.
“I can live with that.”
Good. Because the alternative was to walk away—which clearly, we weren’t doing—or to give whatever this was between us a name—which clearly, I had no intention of doing.
She leaned back against the old wood desk that had been in here back when my father had been president. She was drumming her fingernails on the top of it, and the look in her eyes had changed; she’d gone “business” mode, and the wheels were turning at full speed again.
“Did ‘Fred’ have anything to say to Gabe?” she asked. As she did, she pushed off the desk and ran her fingers down the front of my cut, grazing slowly across the One Percenter patch. So, maybe she hadn’t returnedentirelyto “business” mode.
“Nothing useful, if that’s what you were hoping.” I returned the favor, grazing my fingers along the low neckline of her shirt and dipping beneath its edges. For someone who spent her time fighting assholes and running guns, she was so damn soft.
“All right,” she said, nodding.
“Just all right? That doesn’t sound like you.”
She shrugged and dropped her hand, grazing my thigh in the process. “I have to go back to Lázaro Cárdenas. It’s the best move—the only move—I’ve got.”
