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"Just not enemies," I repeat, ignoring the weird wrench in the pit of my gut.
"Good," she says.
And then she kisses me. This kiss is different from before - more uninhibited, holding nothing back. I find my hands going under her ass, picking her up. I walk her over to my chair, sit her down.
I spangle kisses along her neck, using a bit of teeth. She groans, her hands exploring the contours of my muscles.
I unzip her dress. She pauses. Our eyes lock.
Can she feel it - the urge practically ripping me apart - to take in every bare bit of her, commit it to memory, take it, enjoy it, claim it for myself?
All I know is that she's wearing way too many clothes. I strip her bare.
Dress, then bra, then panties. Then - I can't help it - I stand there and enjoy her.
"You finished yet?" she says with a smirk.
"Not nearly," I growl.
My lips refind hers, my hands her breasts. Wow. They're just as I remembered - only better. All of her is. Her curves, the light freckles on her shoulders, the devilish curl of her pouty-lipped smile.
How could I ever have been OK with not seeing this again, not having it to myself?
Of course, the plan was never to...
Stop. I can't let myself go there. She's here now, with me now. That's the important thing. The only thing.
She tastes like the chocolate cake we ate, and smells like some sort of berry I'd die happy eating.
My face nestles against her breasts, and I inhale her scent. Then, my mouth suctions onto a nipple.
"Landon," she groans.
Goddamn do I love the sound of my name in her mouth. I want more of it.
I pinch her other nipple and she groans again. I'm rock-hard and she hasn't so much as touched my cock.
Lips and tongue work together to suck her breast, my hand enjoying the round firmness of the other.
Then my hands wander down and we freeze. Fuck. This is it.
Our gazes meet.
Hers says: Dare you.
Oh, I dare.
"Landon," she groans again as my fingers skid across her opening.
"Fucking wet as fuck," I growl with approval.
The only question is... is her pussy...
My fingers go in and a pleased grunt rolls out of me. Yep, as responsive as ever. As I finger her, Kyra sinks back into the chair, head rolled back.
Hell yeah is that what I like to see. I finger her fast and hard and rough, as moan after moan falls out of her mouth. Her lips are slack, panting.
"Oh yeah?" I say, and when her whole body starts shaking, I can't take it anymore.
I rip off my pants, turn her around and shove myself inside her.
It's... oh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
There are no... fuck... words.
Fucking perfect. Her clasping at me.
I can only fuck her slow it's so good. Too good. Any faster and I'd...
Landon. Concentrate.
But I fucking can't. She's too fucking hot. Too fucking good. Fuck. Fuck.
And the way she's groaning.
I pick her up, still inside her, and bend her over the desk.
"Still hate me?" I growl into the back of her neck.
As I pause, her pussy clasps at me franticly.
"I will if you stop," she hisses back.
That's all the go-ahead I need to start pounding her as hard and fast as I've got. In and fucking out. Just right. Just so good.
Her moans have become shrill whines, and now she's screaming. As she loses it on my dick and comes, I hold mine in. No fucking way am I letting myself come. Not yet.
I'm going to give her a night she won't soon forget. A night she'll ache to repeat.
I've been waiting to do this for too long.
I keep on pounding her, slower and deeper this time. Her whole body trembles with every insertion.
"Landon..." she groans. "Yes..."
"You sure?" I pause, enjoying how into this she is far too much. "Because if you really hate me..."
She twists around to glare at me, mouth parted with hunger. "I hate you. Now fuck me."
That's all the permission I need to fuck her senseless.
Although she's lying. Has to be. The way she's losing it with me, the places she's going with me as I fuck and fuck and fuck her - it's places reserved for something else.
When she screams out my name and comes for the third time, I let myself lose it too.
Fuck is she good. Fuck is this good.
And afterwards, on my cushy leather office couch, I hold her in my arms and nothing in the world feels better.
**
At some point in the morning, half-asleep, I notice she's still in my arms. Almost on autopilot, my mind starts running through the facts:
- Kyra's asleep in my arms.
- I actually like it.
- She's hot as hell.
- We passed out on the couch in my office.
- I have no idea how she's going to be when she wakes up.
