by Laura Carter
Fuck, I can’t take much more of this without sticking my cock inside her right here on the dance floor.
I grab her waist and spin her, pulling her ass against my crotch. She moves a hand behind me and grips my thigh. With the other, she reaches up and holds on to my nape. Then she rolls those sweet hips against me.
“I want to fuck you so bad right now.” I move my hand between us and under her dress from behind. I hear her sharp intake of breath when my fingers find her lace thong. “Since I can’t do that, I’m going to fuck you with my fingers until you’re so wet for me you’re begging me to take you home.”
Her back bows and she whimpers when I push the lace aside and slip inside her slick opening.
“I love how you speak to me.” She starts to move against my fingers but it’s too obvious with people around us, so I pin her to me, stilling her, making her absorb the pleasure. “No one has ever spoken to me the way you do. You make me feel sexy. You make me feel wanted.”
I nip her neck and push my fingers deeper into her. “I speak to you this way because you are sexy. And fuck me, you are so fucking wanted. Every time I close my eyes I remember fucking you over that table. I remember the feel of my cock in your pussy.”
She leans her head into my shoulder. “Drew. I can’t do this here.”
“Yes, you can, baby. It feels good, doesn’t it?”
She writhes against my hold. “So good.”
“Then let go. Let me feel you come with my fingers fucking you, Becky. Right here, in this room, with all these people around us, not knowing how hot we are for each other.”
“Oh God, Drew.”
“My dick is so hard for you, Becky. When I get you home you’re going to have to beg me to stop fucking you. I want you every way I can get you.”
Her insides start to contract.
“You like me talking to you, don’t you?”
She bites her lip and nods.
“I know you do, baby. I can feel you pulsing. Come for me.”
Her yelp is lost in music but not to my ears. I hear and feel her climax, pinning her body to mine, knowing she can’t move, not because of the eyes in the room, but because one move will make me come all over my slacks.
I slip my fingers out of her and turn her to face me. She drags her eyes open. They’re a mix of heat and wantonness. I imagine a reflection of my own. I run my wet finger across her lip, wondering if it’s a step too far. She rebuts that thought entirely when she slips out her tongue and tastes herself on my finger. The urge that takes hold of me is so strong I feel like a fucking caveman. I fist my hands in her hair and put all of my need into a kiss, fucking her mouth. She kisses me back with as much fury.
“I want you in my bed,” I growl.
She nods quickly, panting, as I am.
We wait a beat so I can try to tame my raging cock. Then I take her hand and find Sarah and Brooks, who are still dancing. “We’re going,” I shout above the music.
Sarah kisses my cheek and gives me a drunken wink. Brooks grabs my hand, pulls me into him and thumps me on the back, harder than he would if he were sober. “I’m not going to see you in the gym tomorrow morning, am I?” he asks.
I lean into his ear. “I fucking hope not, buddy.”
“She’s a good girl, man. I like her.” His s’s are severely slurred. “Never seen you fight for a chick like that. She’s good for you.”
“You’re wasted.”
“That. I. Am.”
“Are you two going to get home okay?”
“We’ll be fiiiine. Go,” Sarah says, nudging my chest away from them.
Chapter 18
Drew
I’ve never been more grateful for the location of my apartment. Ten minutes in a cab was all I could take. Being so close to Becky, her exotic perfume, her slender thighs tempting me from beneath her dress, knowing my fingers had just made her come, knowing I couldn’t just ravage her on the back seat of the cab, I was dying in there. My cock feels like it has been trying to bust out of a steel cage, as opposed to my fly.
The fresh air—as fresh as city air gets—is welcome when I step into the street. I move around the car to open Becky’s door, but she’s already climbing out by the time I get there. She blows out so hard it puffs her cheeks; then she sucks in air just as hard and straightens her shoulders, pulling her fingers through the front of her hair.
“Rough ride?” I ask.
She just stares at me, like she’s staring into the depths of me. Once again, I’m left wishing I could read her mind. Just the smallest insight to tell me I’m not crazy for being absolutely blindsided by this woman, tackled sideways and knocked on my ass by the spiral she’s got my head in.
Give me something.
She all but lunges at me, grabbing my hair and crashing her mouth against mine. As soon as we come up for air, I grab her hand and almost drag her past the concierge, into the elevator. After directing it to the top floor, I waste no time picking up where we left off, walking her back until her spine is pressed against the elevator wall by my own body. I take her hands above her head, pinning her right where I want her, and let her feel just how brutal that cab ride was for me as I grind against her.
The elevator pings at our destination, but I don’t want to stop this kiss. The taste of her. The feel of her wet tongue, fighting with mine. I lift her legs around my waist and carry her to the door of my apartment. I fumble behind her back, taking her weight, trying to kiss her, and opening the door at the same time. Somehow, I manage the feat. The things a man can do on the promise of sex.
She pulls back from me when I kick the door shut. She wriggles until I release my grip on her ass, and she slides her legs down my thighs. She stands on the spot at the entrance to the open plan space and looks around the apartment in silence. The sensory lights cast a low glow over the wood floors of the space. I pick up the master remote and flick on the electric hearth and living room lamp.
As I knew she would, she moves straight to the wall of windows and gazes out across Central Park. She works her way around the room slowly, until she’s looking toward the city’s skyscrapers. Eventually, her fingertips slide down the windows, and she turns to face me, her back to the view.
“Are you flipping kidding me? You told me to go and sit at the top of the Empire State Building and pay tourist prices for the view when you have this?”
I chuckle. “When you put it like that, it sounds a little harsh.”
“Who are you, Drew Harrington?” She turns back to the glass and puts her fingertips on the panes again. I move toward her, unhurriedly, not wanting her to move and spoil the image of this entrancing woman, in a magnificent dress, with legs I want to wrap around me all night, set against the backdrop of the city I love. “I mean, I knew you had a good job, but this is incredible.”
I slip my arms around her waist from behind and bring my chin to the crook of her neck. “It’s stunning,” I whisper, as my hands roam across her stomach and down the front of her thighs. “I can’t get enough of this body. You never should have given me a taste. I have an addictive personality, Becky, and I don’t think you’re going to be an exception to the rule.”
She leans her head back. “The way you talk to me, it’s like I’m…special. You make me feel beautiful. Like I could be anyone.”
I pull down the zipper at the base of her spine and slip her dress off her shoulders, kissing both as they are uncovered. The dress pools by her heels, leaving her in only black French panties. “You could be anyone.” I turn her and press her back against the glass, nudging my crotch against her, the contact feeling devastatingly good against my painful erection. “But you’re Becky. And you are beautiful. And it’s you I’m addicted to.”
She closes her eyes when I run my hands down her neck. I press my lips to her eyelids. “Let me see you,” I whisper. “Don’t be afraid to wa
tch.”
She opens her eyes, and I move my hands over her chest, cupping her breasts. She gasps when I swirl my thumbs around the tender flesh of her nipples. “Your body is amazing.”
I trace my fingers down her abdomen, relishing the fact I can make her squirm with just a touch. I assess her panties. Thin lace. Grinning at her, I stretch the lace and push my fingers through the material. She gasps when I tear the underwear right off her.
“Oh my God” Her breathing is heavy but she still tells me, “I paid a small fortune for those in Victoria’s Secret.”
“I’ll buy you some more.”
When she starts to speak again, I bend to the floor and draw my tongue quickly between her folds, lingering on her clit. She doesn’t speak. Instead, her back arches, and her hands reach out, pressing against the glass window.
I nudge her feet farther apart and lick her until her legs falter and she grips my hair, riding out her orgasm against my mouth.
When I stand, she holds my cheeks, tasting herself on my lips. “Take me to bed, Drew. I want you. All of you.”
Feeling the heady mix of champagne and her lingering taste on my lips, not wanting to miss any opportunity to touch her naked body, I wrap her legs around my hips and carry her to my room. I turn the lights on, then dim them and lay her back on the satin sheets of my king bed. Her feet are still in those tempting, fuck-me heels. I walk backward and look down on her, appreciating every naked inch.
She props herself up on her elbows. “What are you doing?”
“I want you to tell me what you want.”
Panic, or fear, flashes on her face. “I want what you want.”
I shake my head slowly. I hope I’m not pushing her somewhere we can’t go. I hope I’ve heard her and read this right over the last few weeks. “This isn’t just about me. I want you to tell me. Take control, Becky.”
She swallows hard and her eyes glaze, more than just from champagne. “I’m not good at this stuff, Drew. I can’t talk the way you do.”
At the risk of ruining the mood, I don’t let it drop, but I go to her, crawl between her legs, and kiss her roughly, passionately, reminding her just how sexy she is. “Then show me what you want. Show me how you like it.” I take her hand and move it between us so she’s cupping herself. I climb off the bed again and go back to my spot, watching her.
“Would it help if I did this?” I take the cufflinks from my shirt and unbutton it.
She stares at me, still, for a moment; then she slowly moves her hand over her pussy. She watches me as I take off my shirt. I can see her growing in confidence, which she confirms when she slips two fingers into herself. Her breathing quickens. As does mine. Watching her is an otherworldly kind of pleasure.
“Take the bottoms off too,” she directs, working herself quicker. She watches me kick off my shoes and unfasten my slacks. I take it slow, wanting to see more of her show.
When I pull off my slacks, taking my socks with them, she draws her own excitement up to her clit, sliding her fingers over the sweet spot. The sound she makes, her obvious satisfaction, thickens my cock further.
“Jesus, Becky, you’re killing me.”
“So come over here.”
And stop the show? I don’t think so. I draw my boxer briefs to the ground and stand in front of her with my hand wrapped around my dick. As she works herself, I do the same. Both of us teasing each other, working ourselves into a frenzy. And it’s so fucking erotic. My body heats just watching her come to the edge. I work myself until I’m right there with her. Then I move to the bed.
As I crawl between her thighs, she wraps her legs around me, her heels digging into my ass. I reach quickly to my nightstand and tear a foil packet between my teeth.
She takes me completely by surprise when she says, “Let me.” Along with the hedonistic need I feel, I also have a sense of pride in her for taking charge.
She sits and I kneel. Her fingers tremble, as if she’s never done this before, but she rolls the latex down my cock expertly. The touch of her fingertips sliding down my length is a damn sight better than my own.
I lift her hips, her legs still wrapped around me, and I slide my legs beneath her. Then I lower her down onto my hard on. Each glorious inch, coupled with the look of pleasure on her face, takes me closer to the end game.
I take her weight, helping her to move around and up and down on me. “Drew. God. Yes. It’s so deep.”
She’s at the brink, but I don’t want this to end. I bite down on her neck as gently as my raging hormones will allow as she rides out her orgasm, squeezing my dick with her sweetly tight pussy.
She drops her brow to my shoulder, replete, but I can’t wait any longer. I lift her from the bed and stand her on the floor in those killer heels. “Bend over. Put your chest on the mattress.” She does as I ask and looks magnificent doing it. Bent over for me. Her ass in the air. Her pussy exposed.
“Grip the sheets, Becky, I can’t hold back.”
I hold her hips as she balls the sheets into her fists; then I drive deep inside her with one, long, powerful, satisfying-as-hell thrust. I’m too close to take it easy. With one hand on her hip and the other on her back, I pound into her relentlessly, until I’m barking out expletives. I hear her calling my name as bright spots merge into the black of my closed eyes and I release, bursting into her over and over until she’s taken every last drop I have to give.
I collapse over her back and we lie there until our breaths come back to normal. “Christ, Becky, sex with you is…” Intense? Incredible? The best I’ve ever had? They all sound…too much.
“I’ve never had sex like this before, Drew. It’s like we’re in it together. From beginning to end. I just…I can’t explain it.”
I tighten my hold around her waist, pressing my lips to her spine. Maybe neither of us can explain it, but there’s something between us, something invisible and intangible, but so very real.
When I’m able to move, I bend to the floor and unbuckle her heels, slipping her feet out of them. She rolls onto her back with a sleepy, sated smile. “Come on, let’s get you clean.” I pull her up to sit and lead her to my en suite. I turn on the shower jets, rather than the monsoon head, and steam fills the room almost instantly.
“We’re going in together?” she asks.
I lean my head to one side and simply raise a brow because it’s really kind of obvious, at least to me.
“I haven’t showered or bathed with anyone since I was about three years old.”
“Was your last boyfriend some kind of caveman, Becky? Come here.”
When her body is pressed to mine, I stroke her hair to wet it. She looks up to me. “He wasn’t like you. Not at all.”
“I’m hoping that’s a good thing.”
“You have no idea.” I want to have an idea. Whatever she keeps bottled up inside, I want to know it. “Please don’t ask me about it. Not now. Please.”
I nod, shelving the idea, and reach for shampoo. I massage it into her hair and rinse it out, then we take turns washing each other. I give Becky a thorough cleaning, especially around those parts I’m coming to love. Her skin always feels like silk to me. Under soap, it’s nothing short of exquisite.
“Next time we’re in this shower, I’m going to fuck you against these tiles.”
Her sleepy eyes dart open. “I think I’d like that.”
I growl deep in my chest. “Don’t even tempt me, baby, or you won’t get a chance to sleep before I’m taking you again.”
* * * *
The noise of my apartment door closing rouses me. It takes me a second to process the sound; then I’m jumping out of bed and running into the living room. I realize, as my member bounces around, semi-hard from whatever dream I was just enjoying, that I’m not worried I’m being burgled. No, the pounding in my chest is because I thought she left, again.
&nb
sp; I come to a halt when I see Becky walking into my kitchen holding a brown paper bag in her arms. She has on her sequined dress and those fuck-me heels from last night. Her hair is loose and wavy, hanging across one shoulder. Her face is fresh, makeup less, and she doesn’t look half as tired as I feel.
She sets the bag down on the counter with my keys. “Well, that is right up there in the top three most mortifying things I’ve done in my life.”
I bring my hand to my mouth, feigning casually rubbing my day-old stubble, to hide my grin.
“I guess that’s what they call the walk of shame, right?”
Now I chuckle. “I guess so. Where have you been?”
“To get things for breakfast. You really should keep some provisions in your fridge. I mean, do you always eat out?”
“Mmm, no. Sometimes I order in.”
She shakes her head, but I catch her amused look before she turns away from me. She busies herself around the kitchen, putting things away and pouring two cups of coffee, while I grab some sweat pants from the bedroom and come back into the kitchen. I sit on a stool at the breakfast bar and sip my coffee, all the while unable to tear my eyes off her, riveted by her simple moves.
“Okay, we’re all set. It won’t be long,” she says triumphantly, leaning back against the counter, holding her mug in two hands.
“It’s kind of nice having a woman in my place.”
“Have you, erm, ever lived with anyone?”
“No. Is that ridiculous at thirty-five? Don’t answer that. I’ve just had bigger things to focus on, and women, as we’ve established, can be a bit of a distraction.”
Her lips curl behind her coffee before she sips. “Well, I kind of like being here too.”
“Stay today. I’d really like to have you in my bed all day.”
She raises a brow. “I have no clothes, as you can see.”
“Baby, you won’t need clothes for what I have in mind.”
She throws her head back on a laugh. “Okay, Romeo.” She seems to question herself before putting down her mug and walking to me. She turns my stool toward her and straddles my thighs. She runs her hands down my naked abs and hums appreciatively. “Whilst I would love to say yes to that idea. I also have to work later.”