CHAPTER7
Jessica
As soon as Donovan opened the penthouse door, he pulled me inside and pressed me against it. He ground his cock against my core, making sparks of pleasure roll through me. I couldn’t stop the whimper that tore out of my mouth. I’d never been touched like that and it ignited something inside, a deep carnal need I didn’t know I possessed.
His mouth latched onto mine, his tongue sliding past my lips. I was grinding against him as he pressed me harder against the door. I didn’t have the first clue what I was doing, but I ached fiercely between my legs and rubbing against him was the only way I could soothe it.
His fingers cupped my breast as he continued to kiss me as if I was his oxygen. His movements were hard and unyielding. I wanted everything he was offering and more. I just didn’t know what that was.
That thought made a little tendril of anxiety slither through me. What if I wasn’t good. What if I did it wrong? Was there a wrong way to do it?
Was it going to hurt?
Nervous energy made me pull my mouth from his, needing a moment to breathe.
He let me go, his eyes scanning my face. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
He stepped away from me. “Why don’t we have a drink? Slow things down a little?”
I wasn’t sure if I was happy about that—did we need to slow things down at all?—but I nodded. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, exposing thick forearms. I stared at them before I slid my eyes up to watch as he moved to a narrow cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of dark amber colored liquid.
“Scotch okay?”
“Sure,” I said, even though I’d never drank it before. He already thought I was stupidly naive. I didn’t want to give him the impression that extended to other areas of my life.
I sat down on the couch, taking a moment to look around.
The suite was impressive. There were huge windows spanning the full length of two walls that looked out over the city. We were high up and the view was incredible. The horizon was filled with lights, twinkling in a way that chased the dark sky above away. It was late, but it was clear the city was still largely awake.
The room was filled with masculine style furniture. A square sectional in gray and a large flat screen on the wall opposite it. There was a dining table too, which made me wonder how often he entertained here—if at all. He didn’t seem the type for elaborate dinner parties.
As he stepped in front of me, I brought my attention back to him. He held a tumbler out to me with a little less than two fingers worth of alcohol in the bottom of it.
I wrapped my fingers around the glass, liking how my skin scraped across his as I did.
He took a sip of his own as he moved over to the entertainment center near the television. I watched as he opened a cupboard filled with vinyl records.
“I didn’t know they still made vinyl’s,” I said.
“It’s the only way to listen to music,” he murmured as he scanned the shelf.
I raised my glass to my lips and took a long swig. It scorched my throat as it went down and as it hit my stomach it felt as if it warmed me from the inside out. It was strong, malty, and I wasn’t sure I liked the taste, but I took another gulp of it anyway. I liked how it made my limbs feel looser the more I drank. I wasn’t a huge drinker, though my drink of choice was something more cocktail based. The scotch was stronger. A lot stronger.
“What sort of music do you like?” I asked, placing my empty glass on the coffee table in front of me. I was still wearing his suit jacket, but it was warm in here—or at least I felt warm—so I slipped it off.
“Anything and everything. My tastes range from rock to classical.”
He pulled a record from the sleeve and put it on the turntable.
It started to play. I didn’t recognize the song, but the background noise was welcomed. He turned back to me and the heat in his gaze made me squirm. He was looking at me like he wanted to devour me—and I wanted him to.
“I’m sorry,” I said nervously.
He sipped his drink, savoring it. I should have clearly done the same. “For what?”
“I don’t know how to act.”