I nod, unable to breathe.
“What about this?” His hand strokes the side of my cheek, causing a shiver to run down my body. “Do you want me to touch you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me?”
I bite my lip.
“Do you want this?” he asks again.
I hesitate to answer because as much as I do want this—him—it feels momentous. Like, if we do anything about the chemistry between us, things will never be the same.I’m in control, I remind myself. He knows this is just for tonight. Scratch the itchy itch.
“I need your consent, Sugar.”
I lean closer until our faces almost touch. “You have my consent,” I whisper against his lips as they part.
Our shaky breaths mingle for what feels like forever but is probably more like two seconds before he leans down and crushes his lips to mine.
I can’t help the moan that escapes me the second his tongue touches mine. My hand flies to his shirt, grasping it for dear life as he kisses the shit out of me. There’s no gentle strokes. Nothing is tentative about how his mouth moves against mine. It’s all raw passion and possession. It’s the sort of kiss books are written about. It’s like he wants to lay claim to my lips and brand them as his forever. He sneaks a hand to the back of my neck, pulling me tight against him as if he’s afraid that if he doesn’t hold me, I might break the kiss and run.
“Fuck,” he growls when I bite his lower lip. “We can stop at kissing, Sugar,” he says in a strained voice. “I don’t want to assume anything—”
“Do you do this often? Kiss strangers in your office while there’s a party happening outside?” I slide away from him, putting distance between us, and get up, needing the space to take control of my slutty persona, who’s ready to rip his clothes off and ride him like a pony.
“Never,” he stands and walks over to his desk. “I have never done anything but work or sleep in this office.”
I walk over to him and place my hand on his jaw. “Then assume everything,” I reply—hoe Tasha having just sauntered into the room. “I want it all.”
In one swift movement, he turns us around and does the thing guys only do in movies. With one arm, he sweeps everything that was on his desk to the floor and effortlessly lifts me onto it. I squeak, because, shit, his laptop is on the floor, probably broken. And double shit, he just lifted me like I weigh nothing, and let me tell you, that is definitely not the case.
But the minute his lips connect with my neck, sucking and licking it, I forget why broken laptops are not a good thing. I forget my name as his palms start expertly exploring my body, slowly inching the dress I’m wearing up my thighs. I think it was something beginning with aT?
“You taste and smell so good, like the frosting on that incredible cookie,” he moans into my ear, nestling himself between my legs. My hands roam through his soft hair as he rocks his hips against me, driving me crazy. I have not dry humped anyone since high school, and boy have I forgotten how much fun it is. It helps that he’s rock hard and the feel of him against my damp panties is amazing.
My breathing picks up as his lips travel down from my ear to the V of my sweetheart neckline, kissing and biting the skin there. The hand that was on my thigh moves to where his lips are, pushing the material down and exposing the milky skin of my breast. He doesn’t take long to latch onto my nipple, sucking it while rocking against me. I’m so turned on I don’t notice when his hand is back at my thighs, digging into my flesh, the dress bunched up at my hips. All I can think about is how good he feels, and how easily he can read my cues, knowing when to bite or suck and when to stop just at the right moment to drive me crazy. I have never been with a guy so in tune with what I need. And as incredible as it feels, it’s also sad that after tonight I will probably never be with one again.
“I need this dress off,” he mumbles against my breast, pulling at the material.
I chuckle and undo the zipper before pushing his face away and pulling the dress over my head, leaving me in just my bra, panties and a pair of white chucks.
“You’re a fucking vision,” he says, his eyes roaming my body.
“Take your shirt off,” I demand. It’s only fair. I’m almost naked, one boob in, one boob out, while he’s still fully clothed. He undoes one button, then tries for the second but must get frustrated because he growls and rips the shirt open. “I have another one,” he says, noticing my expression.
“I’m not complaining, Hulk. Should we lock the door?” At any minute, someone could walk in and get an eyeful.
“Would you like me to, or would you like to live dangerously, Sugar?”
I have to admit, the possibility of someone walking in on us has my pulse speeding up. “Leave it.”
“You’re so—” he hesitates. “Not what I expected,” he says, toeing off his shoes. “But everything I wanted.”
Then he kisses me again.
ChapterFour
Once again, my body lights up under his touch. My mouth moves against his as if it’s been doing this for years. I almost whimper when he breaks away. Almost, but then he spreads my legs wide open and gently presses his fingers against the damp spot on my panties, stroking it. My hips buck, the feather-light touch almost too much to bear.