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Her answer is to lift up on her tiptoes and brush her lips across mine. Before I realize it, her hand moves around the back of my head and starts to play in my hair.
My cock instantly comes alive.
“I need you,” she whispers against my lips.
A wild growl escapes my mouth before I kiss her with a fierce abandon. Her body is as responsive to my kiss as mine is to her touch.
Within seconds we’re ripping clothes off of one another without a care. Thank god the huge window of her gallery is boarded up due to the ongoing renovations. The only way to see inside is via the top glass panes on the door.
While it’s unlikely that anyone can see us from the angle we’re at, I move us farther into the space away from the door. I pivot our bodies so that Monique’s back is pressed against the far corner wall.
No one can see us from this angle. With that assurance, I drop to my knees to strip her out of her pants. When that’s done, I bring one of her legs over my shoulders so I can worship her pussy the way she deserves.
She tosses her head back and thrusts her hips against my mouth. I lap her up like a starving man. Even after doing this a number of times already, I still can’t get enough of her taste. It’s like she was made for me.
I run my tongue over and over her clit, making her entire body shudder. She calls my name the way I’ve always wanted to hear her say it, but never fully allowed myself to acknowledge.
“Diego, please,” she purrs.
“I know, baby,” I say against her pussy lips before outlining the seam of her opening with my tongue. The mewls coming from her are my undoing.
I give her what she needs and let her ride my face as she orgasms.
There’s nothing like this feeling.
My hands itch to reach up and grab her. To yank her to me and squeeze her tight enough to see red marks along her skin.
But I absolutely will not unleash that part of me on her.
Monique reaches down and takes one of my hands. The hand that is already moist from her wetness. I stand, and she brings two of my fingers into her mouth, licking them clean.
Seeing that reminds me of having my dick in her mouth. My cock pushes against my pants, desperate to get inside of her.
But my breath hitches in my throat when she moves my hand from her mouth, down her chin, and holds it to her throat. Her gaze meets mine. There’s a question in those honey pools of hers.
I drop my attention to where she’s still holding my hand, against her soft neck. I allow my thumb to stroke the tender skin there. Everything in me wants to wrap my hand around her throat, tighter. To squeeze it while I’m taking her. I want to hear her tiny gasps for air as I rut into her, building both of our climaxes until neither one of us can take it anymore.
But just as this scene plays out in my head, I see those bruises around her neck. The ones put there by that bastard, that night in college.
I snatch my hand away from her throat.
There’s no way in hell I can do that to her. I hate myself for even contemplating it.
To push those thoughts away, I unbuckle my belt and pants before lifting her legs to wrap around my waist.
I kiss her but not as hard or as forceful as I want to. I have to make myself hold back with her. She can’t see that side of me. It would ruin everything we’re building between us. She’s been through too much.
So I kiss her but hold back slightly. She’s so slick and ready for me, that it doesn’t take a lot of effort to work my cock inside of her. I want to pound into her, but I force myself to go slow.
I push all the way in and then drag myself out inch by inch. I want her to feel every ridge of my cock as it moves inside of her. Monique locks her legs around my waist.
Dragging my hands up and down the length of her waist, I bury my head into the crook of her neck. The skin there is so damn soft, I want to bite it. To mark her so that anyone who sees her for the next few days will know she’s mine. But I hold back, only kissing and licking her velvet soft skin.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” I confess. “Probably longer than I even fucking knew.” The words spill out of me without any remorse. It’s the whole truth.
For years, I told myself and anyone who would listen that we were only friends—best friends but still friends. For a long time, I thought that would be enough.
I was fucking wrong.
