Breach

by K. I. Lynn

  I sucked in a ragged breath before whispering, “Yes.”

  A victorious smile broke out on his face before his lips crashed to mine, his hands released me then, wrapped around my body. It wasn’t gentle or sweet. It was passionate, needy, and full of bite. His teeth grabbed my bottom lip, pulling it then diving back in for another bruising kiss. My hands moved into his hair, tugging at his light brown locks. He growled, and I almost came from the sound.

  Fulfilling my unspoken words, Nathan’s hand moved down to my waist, his fingers kneading the flesh beneath. They relaxed a bit, almost unsure.

  “Harder.”

  His eyes widened at my request, and I realized the word had escaped my lips, revealing my secret need. I didn’t have time to blush or attempt to backpedal; he gripped tighter, lifting me from the ground, pressing my back against the wall he’d pinned me to. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him close to the apex of my thighs, where I needed him most. His hand moved up, pushing the material of my skirt with it, opening my legs further.

  Hard strokes of his hands worked their way up my torso before ripping open my button-up blouse. I was oblivious to the pinging sound of the buttons bouncing off the furniture, due to my own ragged, erratic breath, pounding in my ears, until one of them hit my leg. With a rough hand, he grabbed onto my breasts. He pulled the fabric aside and twisted my nipples between his fingers. I moaned at the feeling, my hips pushing into his.

  “You have beautiful breasts. Fucking perfect, perky tits.”

  Leaning down, he took one of my nipples between his teeth and pulled. His tongue flicked out to tease, his hand mimicking on the other side. I cried out, my body on fire with need for him, shaking with desire.

  “Please, Nathan.” I needed him inside me, fucking me, taking me.

  “Please what, Delilah? I don’t know what you want if you don’t say it.”

  He smirked, and I glared at him in return. I didn’t want to play his game; I wanted him inside me. My mind screamed out at him, calling him every nasty name I could conjure. His movements ceased, hands no longer moving but resting against my skin.

  I gritted my teeth and growled. “Please, take out that big hard cock that I can feel you hiding, and fuck my pussy with it.”

  “That was fucking sexy,” he replied, before tearing his shirt open. His hand moved between us, shredding the fabric that had been my panties away. He undid his belt and pants.

  Once his cock was free, he rocked his hips, running his hard, silky length against my wet folds, teasing my clit. “Is this what you want?”

  “Yes.” I whimpered, pushing against him.

  His hands returned to my waist as he lined himself up with my entrance. “Then fucking take it.”

  I cried out as he drove his cock into me. The force of his thrust was hard enough to rattle the painting that hung a few feet away from where we were. There was a brief second of a pause before he pulled out and pushed back in with the same intensity. In two strokes, he had me on the edge, my eyes rolling back as he filled me. I was so drenched for him he slid in and out with ease.

  “So deep!” I managed to cry out between pants. My eyes screwed tight as I soaked up the pleasure, my head lolling against the wall. I was no longer able to do anything other than feel his cock pumping into me.

  In with a slam, and then out. Slam! Out. Slam.

  His movements were relentless, making me feel him almost to the point that I could take no more. He grabbed onto my jaw, tilting my face down and bringing us almost eye-to-eye.

  “Open your eyes. Don’t you dare look away,” he warned, driving harder.

  I cried out softly. “Can’t…too much.”

  “You will. Even when I make you come and you’re screaming my name. Or I won’t let you.”

  I whimpered again, and he knew why; there was no denying his words were pushing me closer to orgasm. My muscles tightened, and my eyes threatened to close, my body giving into his assault, shaking as I tipped over the edge. I complied and screamed out his name as I came hard, my eyes never leaving his. The feeling of him continuing to thrust so hard while my walls clenched around him, was severe.

  “Good girl. Fuck, that was so fucking hot. You feel so good when you come around my cock.” His lips found mine again; another hard kiss.

  I couldn’t believe he was still going, his hips moving hard and fast. It was heaven and hell wrapped into one. His lips moved down my jaw to my neck, nipping and scraping at the flesh beneath as he went.

  He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his mouth continuing its attack. It felt so good when his teeth dug deeper, marking my skin, but not breaking it. Each nip sent a wave of fire pulsing through me, making me wetter for him. The rumble in his chest grew as his hands tightened around my hips, making it pretty obvious he could tell.

  I was in sensory overload from his cock, grip, and teeth, not to mention his body pinning me to the wall. Everything he did made me his. With every thrust of his hips, every dirty word, and every bite, he claimed me.

  He bit down on the meat of my shoulder, and I screamed as a second orgasm ripped through me. My hands searched for something to grab hold of, and they found his neck, pulling him ever closer as my body shook. A groan escaped him; the rhythm of his hips became erratic as my walls milked him.

  I was still coming when his teeth clamped down harder and his hips slammed flush with mine. I could feel his cock pulsating as he spilled inside me, pushing further into me with each spurt.

  We were both breathing hard as we came down from our sex-induced high. His knees buckled and we slid down the wall, his forehead resting on mine. After a moment he removed himself from me; my body mourned the loss.

  Standing up, he straightened out his clothing as he began pacing. I stayed where I was on the floor, my eyes watching him. My muscles resembled Jell-O too much to move. He gathered up his suit jacket and threw it on, never stopping his pacing. His hands moved through his hair, pulling at his neck, while he whispered “shit” over and over again, so low I almost couldn’t hear him.

  He was regretting the greatest sex of my life. Fantastic.

  He stopped and turned toward me, and my eyes widened at the look of absolute hatred and disgust that met me. His hand grasped the coffee cup on my desk and hurled it into the wall, making me jump. The ceramic shattered into pieces before landing on the floor.

  “Fuck!” he screamed, then flung the door open and stormed out.

  I was left sitting on the floor, stunned, staring at an empty doorway. After a few minutes, I knew he wasn’t returning, and I picked my tired, sore ass up off the ground. I collected my torn and tattered clothing, trying to redress myself as best I could with what I had remaining. With wobbling legs, I gathered my purse and walked out to my car, leaving the office in a state of disarray.

  CHAPTER 3

  It was hard to pull myself from the warm comfort of my bed the next morning. I ached, and my mind begged to call in sick. It wasn’t going to happen, though.

  My hand slammed down on top of my alarm clock, shutting off the offending piece of plastic. I turned on the light and slid out of bed.

  My feet were dragging as I entered the master bath, rubbing my tired eyes in an attempt to wake up. I stopped in front of the mirror and stared at my reflection, shocked at what I saw. My normal bird’s nest of blonde hair and the dark circles from lack of sleep were present. What wasn’t normal were the black and purple marks that marred my skin. There were hand prints on my hips from where he’d grabbed me, imprints of his teeth around my neck and shoulders, and small bruises along my chest.

  It was cold out so I could get away with a high collared shirt. I stared at myself for a moment. Was that really what I should’ve been concerned about? If his teeth marks were visible or not? Shouldn’t I have been concerned there were marks at all?

  I wasn’t embarrassed about them, they were a reminder of the pleasure he’d given me. I found I liked them. How twisted was I?

  While turning
to step toward the shower, I groaned. My legs felt like they were no longer connected to my hips, and I was in major need of some aspirin for the ache between my thighs. There was no doubt; my pussy was sore from the pounding Nathan’s cock had given it. I never did see the glory between his legs, but I sure felt it, and he was well-endowed.

  The spray was cold, turning warm after a minute, and I felt myself slipping back into the out-of-body experience I had when I left the office the previous day. I stepped under the warm spray, the water wrapping around my body, loosening my muscles. The moment I started to relax, my eyes snapped open.

  Nathan lived in my building.

  I’d be seeing him soon if I didn’t run into him on my way.

  Panic began to rise within me. He’d been so angry when he left. Would he still be? If he was, I didn’t know if I could be in the same space as him. It would be too much; I’d crack. I had no idea what to do when I next saw him, nor did I have any idea how he would react upon seeing me.

  “Stop it! You’re making yourself crazy when there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it,” I told myself.

  I returned to showering, taking several deep breaths to clear my head.

  After my shower, I pulled out a short sleeve mock-neck blouse and one of my black pants suits, making sure that all of his marks were covered as I dressed. It worked, and anything else could be hidden by my hair.

  I let my hair air-dry like always, brushing through the knots in an effort to make it look presentable. It was stick straight and dirty blonde; not much to work with. I decided that I could get away with throwing it up in a bun if it gave me trouble later.

  After grabbing my purse, I headed out, locking the door behind me. I was anxious as I waited for the elevator to arrive, my heart racing. I was afraid when it came he might be on it. My nerves were getting the better of me. I let out the breath I was holding when the doors opened and the cab was empty. My shoulders relaxed, a tension I didn’t realize I was holding evaporating.

  Fifteen minutes later, I pulled into my normal spot in the parking lot and froze when I saw his car was already there. It felt like I was on trial, heading to receive my sentence when I’d done nothing wrong. Other than inwardly swoon at a gorgeous man and let him take me against a wall, that is.

  My heart was hammering against my chest and my hands were shaking as I walked down the hall, the office door in view. I let out a sigh when I found it empty, giving me at least a small moment to compose myself. Scanning the room, I could find no evidence of the previous night’s activities, and was shocked to find the remnants of the cup had been removed. No buttons from our shirts that had flown around, the papers all back in their stacks, the painting on the wall straightened.

  My face flamed at the memory of him tearing my shirt; one of the most erotic things ever done to me.

  A noise from behind startled me. I turned to find a wide-eyed Nathan standing in the doorway. We stayed in place, staring at each other as time seemed to stop. Neither knowing what to say or do. A range of emotions crossed his eyes, so fast it was hard to keep up: fear, anger, sadness, and, the strongest, regret.

  Stepping to his right, Nathan moved to sit at his desk, eyes to the ground as he greeted me in an almost whisper. He sat; our interaction was over, and he continued with whatever he’d been working on. I shook my head to clear it from channel Nathan, forcing my body to respond to me, not him, and sat at my desk.

  As I placed my purse in the drawer next to me, I caught a glimpse of a stray white button that had been missed. I picked it up, twirling it between my fingers. My focus was trapped on the button, but I could feel him watching me, staring at it himself.

  I set it down and turned on my computer. My eyes never left the small piece of plastic, causing the tension in the room to rise. I could feel how high-strung he was, like he was waiting for the explosion or something equivalent to happen. The need to quell his fears and put him at ease was a strange feeling in me. Despite how the previous night ended, it was still a very enjoyable experience.

  “Nathan,” I said, my voice low. “I like my job. Do you like yours?”

  I turned my passive gaze to him. His eyes were trying to read me, but I knew he was smart enough to understand the meaning behind my cryptic words. The tension melted from his shoulders, and I relaxed a bit as well.

  “I do.”

  “Good.”

  My attention turned back to my computer. We could move on, keep things professional and maintain our dignity along with a defined working relationship.

  At least I could. I hoped.

  Over the next few days the tension did not dissipate like I expected. Every day he would stare at me before slamming something, then his attention would divert back to his work. The way our office was set up caused us to be in one another’s peripheral view all day long, making avoiding him impossible.

  The Boob-Squad had been intelligent enough to notice he was having a bad week, and so their visits became less frequent and were work related only.

  I said nothing. He said nothing. But we would stare.

  I wished he would just tell me what he wanted. I wasn’t going to tell anyone, if that’s what he was upset about. Nor would I ask for a repeat. He’d made it clear that evening with his actions and temperament, it wasn’t going to happen again.

  I tried to pretend we didn’t have sex; I had to. My job would not be lost over a momentary indiscretion.

  “What is going on with him this week?” Caroline asked during lunch one day at our favorite bistro.

  “I don’t know,” I lied. I didn’t know what his problem was, so it wasn’t quite a lie, but I knew what triggered it. “I wish he would get the fuck over it. It’s hard enough to work with his ass when he’s in a good mood. Though I will say, it’s been nice without the Boob-Squad around so much.”

  “His pissy mood is rolling out of your office; I don’t know how you can stand it in there. Maybe he needs to get laid.”

  I tried not to gag on the bite in my mouth at her words. If I’d been taking a drink, it would have ended up all over her. “With any hope he’ll get over it this weekend. I’m surprised Jack hasn’t called him up to have a chat.”

  “He did.” She seemed surprised that I didn’t know. “He apologized, said it was a personal matter and would work this weekend to put it to rest.”

  I wondered if I was the only one that sensed a double entendre in his words. I was the one who caused his mood, and I became nervous at what he was going to do to “put it to rest.” I didn’t want to swim with the fishes. I was certain there were things I wanted to do in my life.

  I almost laughed at the absurdities my brain was creating. Caroline would have, if I’d let it escape.

  “Speaking of getting laid…” She trailed off with a wink.

  “Shelve that conversation.”

  “Lila.”

  “I said shelve it!” My tone was harsher than I’d intended. I didn’t want to have that conversation with her again. I was tired of her harping on it almost every week, not because I did it just days before. The need to tell her was great. She was the closest person I had in my life, after all. At the same time I wanted to keep it a secret that Nathan Thorne had been with me and no one else in the office.

  I chastised myself for even thinking it. I shouldn’t be proud of that.

  Nathan was damaged, not the perfect being they pined after, and I was the only one who knew it. He guarded it so well, kept his façade secure. Even with his temperament that week, no one suspected. Everyone had a bad day or week; they all thought he’d be right as rain the next. I wondered if he’d ever be right. If he’d be able to defeat whatever haunted him, or move past it.

  Like I was one to talk.

  “Earth to Lila,” Caroline called, pulling me from my internal musings.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

  She smiled at me and took my hand in hers. “I just want to see you happy, you know. You haven’t been happy since…well, since
Drew.”

  I sighed when his name crossed her lips. I missed him, very much.

  Drew was always a ray of sunshine in my dreary life. We tried to stay friends, we did, but even the best intentions sometimes fall to the wayside. My increased hours and inability to get together anytime he called only aided in the rift.

  Those were the main reasons that caused it, and he couldn’t handle the darkness in me sometimes. My self-worth was already at the bottom of the scale, and plummeted further after our breakup. I had nothing to offer anyone, so why would he stick around?

  I threw my napkin on top of my food, my appetite gone with the conversation and the souring of my mood.

  “I’m sorry; I know he’s still a sore spot.” She perked up as an idea hit her. “You should come out with us on Friday!”

  “Can’t.”

  “Don’t you even dare tell me you’re busy, because that is shit and you know it.”

  Her tone was startling. Caroline only raised her voice on rare occasion, and when she did, it was directed at her boyfriend, Ian.

  “Next week. I promise.”

  She sighed and gave me a small smile. “I’m holding you to that. I’ll drag your ass out if I have to, and I will employ people to help.”

  My lips quirked up into a small smile at the image of some mob coming to get me with Caroline at the lead. “Cross my heart and hope to die. Better?”

  “Better. But I’m not sticking a needle in your eye. That’s just gross.” She laughed.

  I laughed with her, my mood improving.

  When we returned from lunch, I found Nathan struggling, squirming to get away from a member of the Boob-Squad and her obvious advances. She was determined to be the one to cheer him up.

  He inched his chair away from her. “Kelly, I’m sorry, I need to get back to work.”

  I smirked at his predicament. I’d hand it to her, she was tenacious.

  “Oh, hi, Kelly!” My voice surprised her, and she jumped down from his desk. “Are you here to pick up the contract to take to the Lowry’s? I know Amanda Lowry is anxiously awaiting it.” My voice was dripping with sickening sweetness as I asserted my position.