God, I want to see how far we can go.
Katya didn't want to wait a week. She didn't want to wait another second. What if he disappeared? What if old-Katya reared her ugly head? She didn't want to take the chance. She wanted to be that girl from the made-up-profile again, so she decided to go for it. She took a deep breath, then reached under her dress. Felt around for the edges of her underwear, then dragged them past her hips. Let them fall to the floor. She stepped out of them, then balled them up in her fist.
I can do this. I can really do this. What's the worst that can happen? He laughs at me? So what, then I take the train to Liam's house and work out this sexual tension with him.
When she came out of the bathroom, the first thing she noticed was that some shading had been pulled low over the windows. They were sheer, but they dulled the glare and made it almost impossible to see outside clearly.
Then she saw that Wulf wasn't sitting at the bar anymore. He'd moved to an old piano that was tucked against a wall, taking up a lot of space in the narrow bar. He was plunking out a tune, something she didn't recognize, though she was surprised he could play. He sounded decent and she stood behind his shoulder for a moment, watching his fingers move over the keys.
“I thought you were going to be in there all night,” he finally said, though he didn't bother looking back at her.
“It was two minutes, max,” she replied, though she still felt a little breathless. He must have heard, because the notes on the piano died down, slowing to a stop. He climbed to his feet, throwing back the last of his brandy, then he put the glass on top of the instrument before turning to face her.
“More like five. You sound nervous, Tocci,” he called her out. She nodded.
“I am.”
“Why? Scared of me?”
“Not scared.”
“Then what?”
She took a deep breath. A second one. Wouldn't let her eyes move away from his as she lifted her hand.
“I don't want to wait a week,” she said plainly, all while she tucked her hot pink panties into his chest pocket, crushing the pocket square he had there.
Wulf glanced down at the fabric poking out. It only took him a fraction of a second to figure out what she'd just done. Then his lips twitched, quirked up into a sly little smile, and he raised his arm, snapping his fingers.
“Tom,” he said, not looking away from her. The bartender cleared his throat. “Ten minutes, please. I need the room.”
Nothing else was said. The bus boy stopped clearing tables and made his way to the back of the bar, disappearing through a heavy wooden door. The bartender went and locked the entrance, then quickly went through the same door as the bus boy, and Katya could hear it get locked behind him. They were completely alone.
“Do you live close by?” she asked. Wulf pulled her underwear away from his blazer.
“Not close enough.”
She watched as her panties were folded up, then shoved into his pants pocket, and she halfway wondered if she'd ever see them again.
“When I said I didn't want to wait a week, I didn't mean I couldn't wait five more minutes,” she tried to joke, then her breath caught in her throat when his hands smoothed over her hips.
“Pity, because I can't.”
He forced her backwards, pressing his body against her. He wasn't overwhelmingly tall, maybe six foot, but his strong physique was intimidating, and his sheer presence filled the entire room. Made her feel small and helpless and overwhelmingly feminine. She braced her hands on his forearms, allowing him to move her so her back was pressed into the bar.
One of his hands ran down her leg, then gripped her thigh roughly, lifting her. Her hands flew behind her as she was sat on top of the bar. He spread her legs, moving into the space between them, and making her ridiculously aware of the fact that there was nothing between the front of his pants and her crotch.
He was slow and methodical in the way he handled her, as if they had all the time in the world for him to explore her body. As if she was a sculpture he'd bought and paid for, something that belonged to him, was his to touch as he pleased. Her teeth cut into her bottom lip while his hands moved over her dress, briefly cupping her breasts before moving back down to her thighs, spreading them wider still.
“In a million years,” he sighed when he leaned in to kiss her neck. “I would never have imagined Katya Tocci giving me her panties.” She laughed softly while she combed her fingers through his hair.
“Hey, I never said you could keep them.”
“Katya, the moment you showed up at the restaurant the other night, all your panties have belonged to me. You had better get used to that idea.”
Then his hands were on either side of her head, holding her in place while he kissed her, slowly and thoroughly. Stole every molecule out of her lungs. She wasn't sure what she'd expected from him – something a little wilder, a little more scary. But what he was doing was so much more. The anticipation, the expectation, he was driving her insane, building up something inside her. She didn't know how to deal with it, how to react to it. She wanted to whimper and cry, to strip herself bare and just hand herself over to him.
Too late.
When she was actually squirming and writhing against him, her fingernails leaving permanent marks on the back of his neck, he finally moved. Kissed his way to her neck while one hand returned to her breasts. His head followed suit and she soon realized he was pushing her. Forcing her flat on her back. Her head hung off the other side of the bar, so she was looking at the bottles from upside down.
Then his mouth was hot against the inside of her knee, his teeth sharp, causing her to yelp. She tried to sit up, wanted to be an active participant, but his hand came down flat between her breasts, forcing her to stay down. His tongue traced a line from her knee straight to the center of her legs and she let out a long moan.
Once again, the man blew her mind. He was such an arrogant, selfish prick. Not waiting for her at dinner, then making her wait at the bar. Not offering an apology, not offering an explanation. And yet, when she was throwing herself at him, ready to sleep with him right then and there, he was forcing her to stop and he was going down on her, giving her pleasure while taking none for himself.
Wulfric Stone – so generous. Who would've thought?
It was such an intimate act, it usually made her uncomfortable, and she'd only ever had one ex-boyfriend do it with her – she and Liam had never gotten around to it during their night, and she wasn't sure she would've allowed it to happen, anyway. It was just too intense, and she hadn't ever enjoyed it very much, so it wasn't worth it to her to explore it with other men.
All those feelings flew away under Wulf's very experienced tongue and fingers. He was making her see colors she hadn't known existed. She groaned low in her throat, whispered his name. Panted it. Used one hand to hold onto his hair, and the other to grip the side of the bar. Her shoes had long since fallen off, clattering to the floor, and she lifted her leg, balancing the ball of her foot on the heavy oak.
Jesus, she was in a bar. It was a little after eight o'clock at night. The window shading offered some privacy, but if anyone outside decided to crouch down and look underneath the screens, they'd see her spread out on the bar with a man's face between her thighs. The thought made her tremble, and remembering there was kitchen and wait staff lurking just behind the back door made it all the worse. Or better. She didn't know anymore. She cried out and then both hands were in his dark hair, holding him to her.
“Ms. Tocci,” he sighed when he pulled away. She was panting and shivering, trying to catch her breath while he pushed her dress up over her stomach. “You are so sweet, in so very many ways.”
He'd moved away from her and she whimpered at the loss of his weight and heat. Rubbed her legs together, trying to finish what he'd started by using friction alone. Then he grabbed her arm roughly, and before she could open her eyes, he was yanking her upright.
The kisses were still slow, but hot
ter than anything she'd ever experienced, burning her clear to her soul. She wrapped her tongue around his while she slid her hands under his jacket, feeling the plains and lines of his muscles. While she explored his body, he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other around her hips, lifting her off the bar. He was carrying her around, and she didn't even care where they were going. He could've taken her outside and laid her on the hood of his car, and as long as he finished what he'd started, she wouldn't care.
He sat her on the edge of a table and she had to lift her chin to keep kissing him. Had to reach to shove his jacket away from his shoulders. While he worked on getting his tie off, she nibbled on his earlobe and took apart his belt. He unzipped the back of her dress, then pushed her back, pulling the material away from her chest. When it was all pooled at her hips, showing off the matching bra to the panties he now owned, he pulled her to the very edge of the table top, kissing her hard.
It was so quiet in the bar. The music had long since stopped. Neither of them were saying anything. There was only the sound of their breathing, panting and gasping as they were. The semi-silence should've been unnerving. Liam had been a chatty cathy, and she didn't know why, but Katya had expected Wulf to be somewhat the same. But it seemed he didn't need words. The confidence in his touch, in the way he kissed her, was enough to get his message across.
She had been preoccupied with unbuttoning his shirt, so lost in the moment, that she didn't even realize what was happening till she felt his erection between her legs. Then he was kissing her at the same time as he was forcing himself inside of her. She cried out, unable to maintain the silence anymore. He was big, and much thicker than anything she'd ever experienced. Completely foreign to her body.
So fucking amazing.
She quite literally felt impaled. She needed time to adjust, and he wasn't giving it to her, and she didn't care. She dropped her forehead to his chest, groaning in time to each thrust as he forced himself deeper. She locked her legs around his waist, squeezing with her thighs, and he returned the favor by gripping her by the ass, forcing her harder against him.
By the time she remembered she should be a helpful partner, she was already halfway undone by him. She wanted to take off the rest of his clothes, peel off his undershirt so she could see his amazing body. But that would mean pushing him away, and she couldn't stand the idea of not touching him, of not being pressed against him. She bit at his chest through the thin material of his undershirt, finally earning a sound from him. He groaned out her name, then took a deep breath.
“Look at me.”
Another thing she'd never done during sex – staring into someone's eyes. But when she looked up, it was to find that he wasn't looking back at her. He was staring between them. One of his hands moved to her jaw, his thumb wrapping around it, forcing her to keep looking at his face. Then he was kissing her again, and she could feel his restraint starting to slip. She was heady with the knowledge that she was responsible for making his cool demeanor slip and she moaned into his mouth, forcing her tongue hard against his. Began working her hips back against his, meeting him thrust for thrust.
She wasn't sure if it was because he was about to break, or if he had a master plan, but he abruptly stopped moving. She started to moan in protest, but then was stopped short when he started scooting her backwards. He climbed onto the table with her, then laid her down flat, every inch of her covered by him. She coiled her arms around his shoulders, finally able to at least push his dress shirt off his body.
“God, Wulf, I -”
She was cut off by his tongue in her mouth. He wouldn't let her talk. It was like some sort of dark magic was expanding between them, and he didn't want anything to break the spell. She didn't mind at all and kissed him back, shoving her hands underneath his shirt, finally touching his skin.
His own hands weren't idle, burning up different paths on her body. Gripping her thigh, holding it high against his hip, allowing him to thrust deeper. She tossed her head back and magic or wait staff be damned, she began moaning loudly. She couldn't keep something that amazing inside. She clawed against his back with one hand, and with the other, she reached down and gripped onto his belt, yanking on it to urge him faster.
His mouth was on her breast when it started. His teeth grazed her nipple, though her bra, and the scratchy friction kicked off the first tremor. She said his name, and she could almost swear she heard him chuckle. Probably because he knew exactly what he was doing to her. His mouth went back to her nipple, soaking the material separating him from her skin, his tongue flat and hard against her. Her whole body started to shake.
“Wulf,” she whispered his name, her entire body coiling around him in tension. In preparation for the explosion that was coming.
“So, so, sweet, Katya,” he sighed into her skin. “So fucking good. You are so incredibly fucking good. Do you have any idea?”
Words were gone from her vocabulary. She could only moan and cry and beg. So much begging.
“From now on,” he began to pant while he spoke. “No panties when you're with me. I will be doing this whenever, wherever, I want, and I don't want anything in my way. Understood?”
She hoped her orgasm was a good enough answer. The back of her head hit the table painfully as she shrieked, and she was pretty sure she ripped his shirt down the back. She couldn't help it. She felt like she was going to die, but in the best possible way. He was so thick inside her, that every time a fresh wave from her orgasm had her clenching down on him, it actually intensified the feeling. She was almost sobbing by the time her body started to come down from the high.
She dropped her legs flat against the table, absolutely useless to help him or give anything back to him. He'd fucked her into another state of being. Old-Katya was officially gone, he'd killed her with that orgasm. And if she wasn't positive about it right that moment, when he painfully squeezed her breast at the same time as coming inside her, she was definitely sure.
Buh-bye, old-Katya. Can't say I'll miss you. Thanks for all the beige clothing.
She was still in orbit somewhere, but Wulf was able to pull himself together and climb off the table, pulling his pants up as he moved. She still felt like a puddle of goo, but he grabbed her arm and dragged her to her feet. While she struggled to get her arms back through her dress, he pulled off his tattered and torn undershirt. Her mouth went dry at the sight of his body. She'd just been touching that!? Jesus, with a body like that, he could charge people to touch him, and here she'd had the chance to do it for free and she'd been too preoccupied with silly things like orgasms.
“Keep staring at me like that, Tocci, and we won't make it out of here anytime soon.”
He didn't bother giving her a chance to respond, he just turned her around and zipped up her dress. Then while still buttoning his shirt, he led the way out of the bar, unlocking the door and letting her walk out ahead of him.
“Should we tell them we're leaving?” Katya asked while she hopped around, trying to put on her shoes.
“I'm sure they'll guess we've gone, once they realize you're not screaming anymore.”
Flames raced across her face.
“I don't normally do things like that.”
“I know. C'mon, I'll give you a ride home.”
He handed her his tie while they walked, so he could put on his jacket. She slipped it over her head, smoothing her fingers over the silk. He wasn't saying anything, and she wondered if maybe sex in a restaurant wasn't anything new for him. It certainly was for her. She couldn't even believe she was walking around without any underwear on.
“You work in this place?” Katya asked after they'd walked for about three blocks and he turned towards the parking garage for a large, imposing looking office building.
“I own this place. Our offices are on the top floor,” he told her, then he put his hand on her back and guided her through a security door into the garage.
“Must be an amazing view,” she sighed.
“I'l
l have to show you sometime.”
Wulf didn't seem to be the biggest talker. Conversation had flowed between them during both their dinners, but it was like when he was done, that was it. Time to talk was over. She was stuck feeling like maybe she should fill the silence.
“Have I mentioned how much I love your car?” she said after she was seated in the Mercedes again. He glanced at her as he pulled out of his parking spot.
“No, do you?”
“So much.”
“You're not one of those girls who needs a man to have a nice car to be worthy of her, are you? I don't have patience for that,” he said. She shook her head.
“No, I've never cared about what kind of car a man drives. But this isn't a car, Wulf. This is art. Sex on wheels,” she explained. He snorted at her, but as they pulled onto the street, his hand moved onto her thigh.
“Sex on wheels, huh,” he finally said after they'd driven for about five minutes in silence.
“It's just so sleek and smooth and … sexy,” she laughed, running her hand over the curve of her door. “You have to take the top off for me sometime.”
“I'll see what I can arrange. So tell me something,” he started.
“Anything.”
“This other guy you see – would you fuck him on a table in a restaurant?” he asked. She was a little shocked at his bluntness, but then realized she'd better learn to expect that, if she was gonna be the kind of chick who shoved her panties into men's pockets.
“Uh,” she stuttered a little. “I don't know. It's not like I planned on doing that with you.”
“Hmmm.”
She chewed on her lip and it felt like his hand was going to burn a hole through her leg.
“To be honest,” she couldn't stop herself. “If it wasn't for him, I probably wouldn't have done that with you.”
“Really. Interesting.”
His tiny vocabulary was driving her insane.
“Yeah. Until this week, I was like a three-dates-minimum-before-kissing kind of girl. It was like I just couldn't be that person anymore, then I met him, and he told me I didn't have to be, so I guess I'm not,” she tried to explain.
Neighbors (Twin Estates #1) Page 9