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I laugh as he kisses down my throat, raking my fingers through his hair. It’s thick and soft and springy, and it smells like cedar wood and lime. “A year?”
A growl rumbles against my skin. “Longer. Much longer. From the first fucking second I laid eyes on you, walking across the lobby in your fussy little pencil skirt, I wanted to—”
“Yeah?”
Clever fingers stroke over my back, searching for the entrance to my dress. Grabbing Darius’s arm, I redirect him to my side, sucking in a quick breath when he starts tugging the zipper.
“Yes.” His mouth finds mine again, claiming,devouring. His tongue strokes against mine, and I’m burning up in my skin, burning to a crisp, panting and swaying in the composer’s arms.
Myfriend’sarms.
And now so much more.
“Wanted to tear that cardigan right off you.” The zipper catches, and Darius yanks it on with a snarl. Jeez, I’ve never seen him like this—half-feral, with a ravenous glint in his dark eyes. Gone is the calm, collected man from the office, and here instead is a man whose control has frayed to the last thread. “Wanted to drag you into that supply closet and shake the walls.”
Oh, crap.
I’d let him.
I’d totally let him.
And now we’re tearing our clothes off in the boss’s penthouse, our work party happening above our heads, and the fire is hot and my bare skin is pebbled with goosebumps. If we stop, I might die.
Darius steers me to the sofa and coaxes me to sit down. To stretch out, legs parted, thighs quivering.
“This,” he says, thudding to his knees on the rug. Warm hands cup my knees. “This. This is my dream.”
And it’s all a perfect whirl: his bare, sculpted body, the dark hair dusting his chest and drawing a line down his abs, the lamplight, his touch, his breath, the tickle of his hair as his head lowers between my legs.
Darius Amin pauses, brown gaze searching. His cheeks are flushed. “Yes?”
And I’m already squirming, the backs of my knees sweaty with how badly I need this. “Yes.”
His head ducks.
Firelight glimmers in the dark strands of his hair. His breath puffs against my bare seam, tickly and warm, and then—
Heat.
Wet, torturous heat.
A flattened tongue licks the length of my slit.
Helavesme, licking and sucking and nibbling everywhere, exploring every inch. And my breaths come in short pants, my fingers twisting in his hair, because that’sDariusdown there, tasting me so intimately. That’s Darius Amin sliding a finger inside me, crooking it to tease my inner walls. That’s Darius torturing me into a sweaty, babbling heap.
My hips rock up to meet his mouth. My squishy thighs grip his ears. Is he okay? Does helikethis? Is it—
“Luce,” Darius groans, his words vibrating against my clit. “You taste so fucking good. Give it to me, sweetheart. Give me everything. Rub yourself on my tongue.”
Oookay.
You know, I’ve always been an A+ student. Always been good at following instructions.
And if Darius wants me to let loose, to surrender to this completely… I sure will.
With a sigh, I melt back against the sofa, even as my hands tug him closer by the hair, yanking his face harder between my legs. Darius rumbles his approval, mouth working furiously between my thighs.
The wave builds slowly at first, then faster and faster, until I can’t hold it back any longer, can’t keep it from cresting. My heart thuds and my cheeks flush and my eyes screw shut, anguished breaths echoing in my ears.
