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I didn’t need to be told twice. I pushed inside of her in one swift motion, filling her right up to the brink with my cock. She wrapped herself around me, pulling me in deep and holding me there, her entire body shivering as she was so close to the edge. I could feel her need coming off her in waves—could feel her desperate need to come and how much she wanted me to be the one to make it happen.
And I was all too happy to oblige.
I shifted so that I was grinding against her clit with every thrust and began to fuck her properly. The feel of her around me was impossibly tight, her wetness making it easy to move in as deep as I wanted to. Getting her so riled had turned me on so much it was hard for me to hold back, but I focused on breathing deep, taking it slow, feeling every part of her, and letting the pleasure subside before I started to build it again.
She was grinding against me hard and fast, her breath coming quickly, and I could tell she was close to the edge. I could tell she wanted to come more than anything, but there was a part of me that wanted to linger in this place before I let her—a part of me that wanted to see how long I could make the intense feelings last. I could hear her moaning with each exhale, her breath catching at the back of her throat as she pushed herself against me, wrapping her arms and legs around me to pull me in even deeper.
"You feel so good," I murmured, brushing my lips against her ear, and I felt her body tense once more. She was on the very edge of her orgasm, and I needed to feel her go over into it—I needed to push her towards it, make it so she couldn’t think of anything but how good I made her feel and how much she wanted to be with me like this again.
Finally, I felt it—the contraction of her pussy around my cock as she moaned against my ear and came hard. Her fingers dug into my back, and even through my jacket, I could feel her nails raking against my skin. I loved it.
I fucked her harder as I felt her come, pushing in deep, and a few seconds later, I went over the edge myself, finishing as I filled her with my seed. She reached down to grab my ass, pushing me deep inside of her as though she couldn’t get enough. She was panting hard against my ear, her need obvious, even as she had just come.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she gasped against me, and I turned my head so I could kiss her again, properly, pushing my tongue into her mouth to taste her. She grabbed my head and held me there, our tongues dancing against one another, our lips tracing out a million unsaid words.
Finally, I eased back, pulling myself out of her and catching my breath. She didn’t pull back from the kiss, clearly not done with me yet.
And, as I rolled over and pulled her on top of me, I decided I was anything but done with her, too.
Chapter Nine Thea
Slowly, I opened my eyes and tried to remember if I had really let myself go home with him last night.
I lifted my head and looked around, taking in the now-familiar setting of his bedroom. Holy shit—so that hadn’t been a dream, right? The sex we’d had, the intensity of it, the sheer levels of pleasure he had taken me to—all of it had been real.
I sat up, rubbing a hand over my face. My body was a little achy from everything that had gone down the night before, but it was a good kind of ache. The ache that told me I had spent my night in the throes of pleasure I would never have even been able to imagine before I met him, a kind of pleasure I’d never thought I would get to feel again until the two of us had tumbled back into bed and I had let my guard down once more.
He was sleeping next to me, and I glanced over at him. In the light of day, his tattoo was kind of beautiful, and I couldn’t resist reaching out to trace the shape of it on his skin. The snake went all the way from his waist to his opposite shoulder, the scales almost shimmering in the sunlight from the bedroom window. It was a cool tattoo, I had to admit, or maybe it was just the guy it was attached to that I was finding myself obsessed with.
I slipped out of bed before he woke up and made my way to the bathroom to splash some water on my face and get my shit together. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be around when he got up. What were we going to do, have breakfast together, when I had all but told him over dinner the night before that I didn’t want anything to do with him? He would have thought I was a total hypocrite, and hell, I probably was. But when he had looked me in the eye and reminded me of our amazing night together, there was nothing I could do to hide from the want I felt for him, and he knew it. He could feel it. And what was one more night together, anyway? Maybe it would be enough to get him out of my system.
I ran some water in the sink and splashed it on my face, looking at myself in the mirror. A little make-up was still smudged beneath my eyes, my lips slightly swollen from where we had been making out all night long, and my hair was a total mess.
But I was happy. I hated to admit it, but it was true—I was seriously, genuinely satisfied after what felt like one hell of a long time without it. Being with him was hot, the kind of hot that distracted me from everything else going on in my life, the kind of hot I could get used to, given the chance.
If I wanted to give myself a chance, that was.
I still didn’t know if this was a good idea or not, if I was being honest. I didn’t know if I should be sticking around here or if I should have taken the first chance I had to get the hell out of his place, and put as much distance between myself and this guy as humanly possible. I knew he was trouble, probably in more ways than I could wrap my head around, but the desire I felt for him, the need that coursed through me when he was around...I couldn’t deny it. Even if I wanted to, even if I should have, I couldn’t deny it, and the worst part was, he was completely aware of it, too. Even as I tried to put space between us, even as I tried to convince myself not to get any closer to him than I already had, I found myself drawn in.
I ran a hand through my hair and headed to his wardrobe, grabbing a shirt and a pair of boxers and slipping them on. I probably should have been putting on my own clothes, but there was something intimate about wearing his, and I didn’t want to pass up a chance to indulge in a little of that.
He was still asleep. It looked as though I had totally wiped him out. I couldn’t help but feel a little smug about that. Even though I was sure he would be up soon, I wanted to take this small amount of time I had alone in his apartment to snoop around a little, see what was in here, what he might have tried to hide from the rest of the world—or from me.
There weren’t any photos of family or anything else in his house—a few landscape shots, but they looked like they had come from professional photographers more than family vacations or the like. The townhouse, for all it was beautiful, suddenly seemed really empty to me. All this space just for him.
I headed down to the kitchen and started making a pot of coffee. Maybe I should have been taking this chance to get out of here instead, but I didn’t want to leave, not so soon. I was sure there was a lot we needed to talk about, and I wanted to find out just what was going on inside his head, why he would be so keen to bring home a woman who had all but told him she didn’t approve of what he did.
Maybe he got off on it, somehow. Got off on knowing that my attraction to him overcame the fact I should have known better. I couldn’t help it—there was just something about him, something that excited me more than it should have. Perhaps it was knowing I should have been putting distance between us, the taboo of it which made it hard to deny, or maybe there was some form of connection buried underneath everything else that I just hadn’t been able to put my finger on yet.
I poured myself a cup, and as I did, I heard footsteps on the stairs. I felt a little flutter in my chest. God, I was down bad for this guy. I really was. I needed to get a handle on myself. But why would I do a thing like that when spending time with him was proving to be so much fun?
He leaned in the kitchen doorway, a grin on his face as he looked at me.
"You’ve made yourself comfortable," he remarked.
"Hope you don’t mind," I replied, and he shook his head.
"Not at all," he smiled. "You look better in those than I ever did."
