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I wait for her to do as I say, to tell me to stop, but the only sound in the room remains her ragged breathing.
I grin, taking her silence as permission. My tongue darts across the soft skin below her jaw, and I hear her breath clog in her throat. Her fingers curl into my shoulders as she tugs me into a kiss, her mouth tasting achingly sweet and already parted for my tongue’s entrance.
I can’t pretend like calling her “my wife” earlier didn’t send a thrill through me. Calling her “my” anything makes me feel like I have something nobody else in the world is lucky enough to have. They can’t know the way she feels against me, soft and inviting. They can’t know the way she sounds when she’s angry, turned on, sad, happy.
I do. Those little traits are just for me, and I’d like to keep it that way. I’m learning to recognize every detail about her, from the wrinkle in her nose when I say something she detests, to the dimple at the corner of her mouth when she’s trying not to laugh.
And I know her in her rawest, most vulnerable form: when she’s with Leo, and the rest of the world doesn’t exist for the two of them. When the centers of our worlds eclipse, our axes, for once, turn on the same point.
Leo.
We’ve been orbiting for weeks. The collision was inevitable, and I’m too weak to keep from succumbing to it.
So, I grip her like she’s a rope and I’m freefalling on the edge of a cliff, fingers indenting her warm thighs as I kiss her until I feel intoxicated. My dick hardens, chafing against those damn sequins on her dress through the material of my pants. She gasps, pressing her palm into me until I let out a fiery grunt.
I forget about the guests outside my door. Men I’ve been hellbent on impressing for weeks now mean nothing to me. Reid means nothing to me. Fuck his money.
She clouds my vision, makes everything else fall away. She’s all that matters.
She unzips my pants, and I respond by bunching up the hem of her dress. She wears only a black, lacy thong that does nothing to cover her heat, and I swear, I could fall to my knees and worship her.
“So fucking gorgeous,” I mutter, cupping her until she bucks.
She shoves down my pants and takes my cock, lips parting when she sees my full length. Slowly, she traces the vein running all the way up the underside, stopping right where I need her most.
“I’ve dreamt about what it would feel like.” I circle her clit, then push her panties aside to crook a finger inside her. I’m delighted to find that she’s already soaking.
She gasps, rising onto her tiptoes and parting her legs.
“Being inside you,” I continue. “Feeling you all around me.”
“Stop dreaming.” She smothers the head of my cock in a bead of precum, and I twitch painfully in her hands. I’ve never craved anything the way I crave her. Still, I pause at her words, afraid she’s going to tell me to stop.
Even the thought stings like something is being torn from me, but I prepare myself for the blow all the same. I won’t do this with her if she isn’t completely sure she wants to. I want her to need me the way I need her.
She looks up at me under heavy lashes, lipstick smudged onto her chin from where I kissed her.
“Stop dreaming and find out,” she whispers.
I flex my fingers before I get too carried away, though every fiber in my being wants to take her and slam her against every wall, every window, every surface, in this penthouse until she’s a writhing, screaming mess.
Instead, I tug her scant panties down until they pool around her stilettos, my mouth watering at the sight of her bare and ready for me. When I cup her ass, she hitches herself up and curls her legs around my hips. The tip of my dick grazes her slit, no guidance needed. She’s a magnet, and I’m already there.
“Are you sure?”
Breathing heavily, she rests her forehead against mine. “Yes. Let’s just… get it out of our system. That’s what we need. Then we can stop.”
I have a feeling that one taste of her will never be enough. My only intention is to make her feel so good that she’ll keep coming back, again and again, until she keeps me so busy that I no longer need to fantasize about her to find relief with my hand.
I press her up against the first flat surface I find, the wardrobe doors trembling behind her. Her gaze is unwavering, imprisoning me until I no longer want to break free. Her legs clench around me, desperate, and I can’t help but swear.
“I don’t have a condom.”
“I’m on the pill. Last check-up was clear. Right after I got back from Italy.”
“Okay, great.”
Then there’s nothing to stop us. My stomach glows with warmth as I tuck her hair out of her face, desperate to see every shift in her expression when we finally do this.
