A whimper escaped her lips. Almost instantly, his mouth was on hers, as if he wanted to swallow the sound. He kissed her hard, caught her lower lip between his teeth, then released her so fast she felt dizzy.
And then, as if nothing had happened, he went right back to whispering in her ear.
“Option two,” he said, “is the chair. You in my lap. I’d get to suck your pretty tits while you bounced on my cock. But I think that would make me come fastest, you screwing me. And I’m trying to impress you.” He bent his head and kissed her throat. She felt his lips smiling against her skin for a moment before his tongue slid out to trace her pounding pulse.
“Which brings us to option three,” he said. “It’s pretty simple. I take you up against the wall.”
She tried, and failed, to breathe normally. Arousal couldn’t actually choke someone, could it? In an effort to bring herself back down to earth, she reminded him: “I’m too heavy for that.”
He laughed. It didn’t sound like his ordinary laugh. It was lower, darker, edged with something white-hot. “You have no faith in me, do you sweetheart?”
“I’m just saying—” She choked down a gasp and grasped Nate’s shoulders as he picked her up and kissed her.
She’d never had a kiss like this before. Not even with him. Because this time, when his lips eased hers open, when his tongue traced every sensitive part of her mouth, it felt… urgent. As if he were a starving man devouring a meal. Like he was pouring himself into her with every giddy press of his lips. He took her mouth slowly, deliberately, holding her so tight, she swore his fingerprints would be burned into her skin.
She barely registered that they were moving until her back came into contact with the wall. Just like that, she was pinned: cool, smooth plaster behind her, Nate’s hard chest and harder cock in front. He pressed his thick length against her belly and Hannah rocked her hips, desperate for something to ease the heavy pressure between her thighs.
His kisses moved from her mouth to her jaw, her throat, her ear. And in between the hot press of his lips and the glide of his tongue, he growled, “Tell me what you want.”
As if she had any idea right now, with this pulsing need taking over every inch of her body.
“Hannah. Tell me now.”
“Wh-what’s option four?”
He smiled against her skin. “I was hoping we wouldn’t get to option four.”
“Why?”
“Option number four is me fucking you on the floor like an animal. Like I wanted to three weeks ago.”
A cresting wave of desire rolled through her and she shuddered against him. “Why didn’t you?” she whispered.
“Because I can’t take something I don’t think you want to give.”
Hannah swallowed. “That’s what you need? Just… to know what I want? And you’ll give it to me?”
“Yes.” His gaze met hers, so raw and honest, she almost wanted to look away. “I’ll give you anything you want. Always. So tell me. What do you want, Hannah?”
“The—the chair,” she blurted.
He smiled. “Why am I not surprised? You want control, love?” His hooded gaze met hers, and for a moment she thought she saw… affection?
Stop it. Stop trying to turn this into a fairytale.
“I always want control,” she said.
“Sounds exhausting.”
“You should know.”
“Touché.” He carried her over to the desk, set her down on its smooth surface, and sat in the huge, leather chair in front of her. Her legs dangled on either side of his bent knees. She bit her lip as he reached forward and opened the drawer just to the right of her shin. And then bit it harder as he produced a stack of condoms.
“In your office?” she asked, trying to sound teasing. Her voice came out a little too raw for that. “Seriously?”
He shrugged, a smirk tilting his lips. “Only place in this house with drawers that lock.” And then, his tone barely changing, he ordered calmly, “Take your clothes off.”
Chapter Nineteen
He said it so casually that, for a moment, she didn’t even register what he’d said. But then the words sank in, and her cheeks flushed in a way that had nothing to do with the need dancing through her veins. “Just like that?” she asked. “Just… take them off?”
“Yes, love.” He stood up and pulled his T-shirt over his head in one move. “Like that,” he said, while she tried not to drool over his chest. He bent forward and pressed a kiss to her temple, and then his hands came to the hem of her T-shirt. Slowly, Nate raised the fabric, exposing inch after inch of her flesh to the cool air and the rasp of his calloused palms. “Like this,” he whispered. “Okay?”
She nodded, wetting her lips as he drew the clothing higher. “Okay.”
Once she said that, he moved slightly faster, speeding up, then easing back—as if he were trying not to rush, but failing. She liked that. She liked that a lot. She liked it even more when he finally pulled her T-shirt off completely, groaning as his hungry gaze landed on her bare skin. Nate closed his eyes and sank his teeth into his lower lip. Hard.
Hannah looked down at herself and found everything in its usual place. Not-particularly-pert breasts in their boring, nude bra. Belly as soft and wobbly as ever. Rolls present and correct. She still had those raised, circular little scars from a childhood bout of chicken pox, and she still had…
“A tattoo?” he croaked. “Seriously?”
“What? You have a thousand.”
“I’m me,” he said, sinking to his knees in front of her. “You’re you.” His thumb traced the lines on the right side of her lower belly, the pentagon and the hexagon and the diagonal strokes.
“It’s—”
“Serotonin,” he finished.
She nodded jerkily. She’d never explained it to anyone. And no-one had ever known. “In case I ever need a boost.”
A slight smile teased his lips. “Press here for happiness?”
“In an ideal world,” she smiled back.
He kissed her. Right over the tattoo. And then he kissed her again, and again, his lips straying from the ink until every inch of her belly was tingling from the warmth of his mouth. Until her heart was pounding and her muscles melting.
Then he stood, hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her skirt, and said, “Up.”
She lifted her hips without hesitation, because somehow, it didn’t feel weird to be naked with Nate. There were times nakedness felt odd to Hannah—even when she was alone. But right now it was fine. Right now it was good.
He let her skirt fall to the floor, and then he ran his hands over her bare legs, his gaze reverent. “You,” he rasped out, “are unbelievable.”
“What does that mean?” she asked lightly, as if she didn’t care. As if he wasn’t sweeping his thumbs over the old self-harm scars on her thighs right now.
He looked up. “It means that if you weren’t sitting in front of me, I wouldn’t believe anyone could be this fucking sexy.” There was a fire in his eyes so fierce, she couldn’t doubt him for a second. But even if she had, the way he kissed her would have made things clear.
And the way he stroked his hands over every inch of her skin, every soft curve and dip, as if he couldn’t get enough.
And the way he yanked off her knickers in between shoving down his jeans, like he didn’t know which to do first, like he couldn’t think straight beyond You, me, naked.
No, she couldn’t doubt him. Even if she’d wanted to.
He ended up naked first, because Hannah dragged off his underwear with an urgency she didn’t bother to hide. If he could look at her so hungrily, and touch her so desperately, she could let him see how badly she wanted him. That was safe, wasn’t it? That was even. So she stripped him off until he stood before her completely bare, his cock rising up from between those muscled thighs.
Then he unhooked her bra, the last piece of fabric between them, and stared at it. “Hannah… does your bra have pockets?”
> “Um, yes.”
He gave her a look brimming with amusement. “I didn’t think bras came with pockets. Do they come with pockets?”
“No,” she admitted.
“Did you… did you sew pockets into your bra?”
“Yes. Don’t laugh! Don’t laugh! We’re having sex!”
For some reason, that just made him laugh harder. “Hannah,” he wheezed between chuckles. “Why do you keep whispering sex?”
“I don’t know!”
He cupped her cheeks and kissed her, even though he was still laughing. And that made her laugh, until they were just two naked weirdos giggling into each others’ mouths.
“Holy shit,” he snorted, “I—I adore you. I really do.” He kissed her cheek. “You’re perfect. You’re perfect.”
The tender words squeezed ruthlessly at her heart. Her poor, foolish heart, which was falling in love with him right this second, totally and tragically. This would not end well. But she’d never felt like this, and she’d certainly never been adored. It felt good, and it probably wouldn’t happen again. So Hannah decided to go with it. For now.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, running her tongue along the soft, inner seam of his mouth. Nate’s laughter faded into a groan, and his hips rocked forwards. When his cock nestled against the swollen folds of her pussy, they each dragged in a ragged breath. And then Nate reached between their bodies and nudged the blunt head of his dick against her aching clit.
“Oh, fuck,” she sighed, her head falling back. “What—? Ohhh, yes.”
He rocked against her, running his lips along the line of her throat. “More?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“I can’t—”
“Tell me.” He pulled her closer, his forehead bumping against hers, his gaze gentle as ever despite the need burning there. “Trust me. Tell me what you want.”
Hannah bit her lip as she studied him. Maybe it was because his face had become so dear to her, or maybe it was the heat suffusing her body and the lust racing through her veins, but she wanted to.
So she fumbled around until she found the condoms he’d dropped on the desk. Then she slapped them against his chest and got as close to dirty talk as she was ever going to get. Wrapping her free hand around his cock, her fingers covering his, she murmured, “I want you. Inside me. Please.”
By his low, agonised moan, anyone would think she’d just given a porn-worthy speech. He took a condom, ripped it open, and rolled the slick latex over his length. Then he sat down, but he didn’t pull her into his lap as she’d expected.
Instead, he hooked his hands under her thighs and eased her forwards until she was almost hanging off the desk. “Spread your legs,” he said softly.
Slowly, Hannah let her knees fall apart. He drew in a sharp breath, and then she felt his thumb glide over her entrance in a teasing circle. Her heart rate spiked.
“I have to make sure you’re ready,” he murmured, easing the tip—just the very tip—of his thumb inside her.
“I am,” she gasped, her hips jerking forward, her arousal demanding more. More pressure, more heat, more of that blunt intrusion. She wanted his thick length between her thighs, but anything would do. As long as it came from him.
“I don’t know,” Nate said. “You are wet.” He withdrew his thumb and she whimpered as he licked the digit clean. “But you’re so tight,” he went on. She sighed in sweet, agonised, semi-satisfaction when he touched her again.
“I’m fine. I swear I’m fine. Please, Nate, please.”
“Be patient,” he said. But he dragged in a breath, his lush mouth tightening, and she knew he wasn’t totally in control. She could push him.
So she spread her legs wider and ran a hand up her body. The way his eyes followed the path of that hand, the hunger all over his face as he watched her, sharpened Hannah’s arousal even further. This was a power she hadn’t often felt, the heady edge of control ramping up her own desire. She slid the same hand back down her body until she found the aching bead of her clit. When she circled that swollen flesh, Nate moaned as if she’d touched him. When she did it again, he finally pushed his fingers inside her, long and thick and perfect.
Pleasure spiralled through her, from the sweet friction of his touch to the feel of his body against hers. Nate wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her closer, thrusting his fingers deep, filling her up.
“Ah, Hannah,” he breathed. “How am I supposed to go slow when you look at me like this?”
“You’re not supposed to go slow.” Her hips jerked in time with his thrusting hand, sensation fizzing through her nerve endings. “I don’t want it slow.”
He groaned and bent his head towards her swaying breasts, catching one dark tip in his mouth. When his tongue flicked over her nipple, she almost forgot how to breathe. He sucked hard, and fucked her with his fingers, and she rubbed frantically between her thighs because something good was within reach and if she didn’t get there soon it might never happen at all.
Nate released her breast with a lick and whispered, “God, you feel so good. So good. Look at you, playing with yourself.” He kissed her neglected nipple, sucked it into his mouth for a second, then let go, his stare focused between her legs.
“Nate!”
“What, sweetheart? You want more?” He licked her again. “I’m surprised you’re not being bossier, all things considered. But you don’t need to be, do you? I’m yours anyway.” He caught her nipple again, sucked harder—and she broke. Snapped. Even though she’d felt it coming, the orgasm shocked her witless. It felt as if everything that held her body together had dissolved, as if she were just a ball of sobbing pleasure, as if her spasming pussy was the only part of her that still felt at all.
She was distantly aware of him whispering in her ear, murmuring words she couldn’t be hearing right. “Hannah, my love, you own me. Forever. You own me.”
Delirious. She was delirious because she’d never come that fast or that hard. But she returned to herself when she felt him grip her hips, lift her off the desk, and pull her into his lap. Her knees landed on cool leather, straddling his thighs. She opened her eyes to find him watching her, his black pupils swallowing the blue of his iris, his mouth red and swollen, his cheeks flushed. Because of her. He looked like this, lost to desire, because of her.
Nate caught her hand and guided it to the place where his cock jutted up between them. “Use me,” he rasped, his tone commanding even as he gave himself to her.
So she did.
Everything with Hannah was more intense than it should be—more intense than seemed humanly possible. So Nate should’ve been prepared for the pleasure that stole his breath when she sank down onto his aching cock.
And yet, the sensation destroyed him. The feel of her hot, wet cunt gripping his length; the soft flesh of her thighs brushing his as she rode him; the sight of her eyes fluttering shut and her lips parting on a sigh… It all wrecked him. Fucked him up completely. Fucked him up perfectly.
God, he loved her.
Nate’s hands gripped her arse, her hips, her thick waist and soft belly, claiming every lush curve in the only way she’d allow. Never, in a thousand years, would he have enough of this. She fucked herself so hard and so deep on his cock, he was ready to come within seconds—but he couldn’t, because she wasn’t done with him. She clutched his shoulders and moaned and rocked against him, and he wondered if she’d ever be done with him.
He hoped not.
Nate pulled her closer and kissed his way up her throat. She tasted so good, so fucking good, everywhere. When she moaned and arched into him, pleasure arced from the base of his spine to the root of his cock like an arrow, so intense his breath caught. His control was unravelling way too fucking fast. Then she took his face in her hands and kissed him, and he was fucked. He was absolutely fucked.
“I’m going to come,” he panted against her lips. “But if you stop—”
“Do you want me to st
op?”
“Fuck, no, Hannah. Never.”
“So come.” She rose up until only the tip of his cock kissed her slick heat. Then she sank down again, rolling her hips, and it was as if he’d been waiting for permission. Sensation ripped through him as he cried out her name, his vision blurring slightly—but not enough to hide the look on her face, the way she watched with lustful eyes as he came for her.
The disorientating grip of pleasure eased, and his head fell against her shoulder. He was gratified to notice that she was sweating as much as he was, panting as much as he was.
And clinging to him the way he clung to her.
This time, she didn’t push him away. She didn’t force distance between them. She kissed a spot just below his right ear, which meant she’d noticed the little, old camera tattooed there. No hot licks, no wicked bites, just a single, sweet kiss.
Nate raised his head to smile at her. “You okay?”
Clearly, this was a day full of blessings, because she smiled back. “I’m great.”
“You haven’t changed your mind?”
She ran a finger over his eyebrow, his cheekbone, up the bridge of his nose. “Me? No. I don’t change my mind.”
Well, that was good fucking news for him. “Neither do I.”
She arched a brow. “We’ll see.”
“We’ll see.” As if she… expected him to? That stung. But, he reminded himself, she was so cautious. And their situation was complicated. And she didn’t know that he loved her.
Maybe he should tell her.
Yeah, that’ll go down well. You make up after three weeks of weirdness, have sex, and immediately confess your undying love. She’ll react wonderfully.
Okay, never mind.
Instead, he kissed her gently, his thumb stroking over that unexpected tattoo on her belly. “We will see.” Because he’d show her. “In the meantime, I think we should both refrain from dating pirates. And dog owners. And any combination of the above.”
Untouchable_A Small Town Romance Page 21