“Too fucking right I’m checking you out. Walk ahead of me,” he encouraged.
Knowing he was watching caused goosebumps to ripple across her skin. It felt voyeuristic of him, yet she felt safe under his heavy gaze.
When she reached the elevator, she pressed the button as his hand slid around her waist. Connor pressed his lips against her skin. “When we get into the apartment,” he murmured. “All bets are off. You asked me what I wanted to do, and I told you. The fact that your panties are wet tells me you want what I’m offering. You change your mind, let me know. Otherwise, this goes how I want it.”
A shiver trickled down her spine at his words. It was perhaps the most erotic warning she’d ever been given, and she couldn’t wait.
“Connor,” she breathed.
The elevator doors opened, and she caught sight of the two of them in the mirrored walls. Connor dressed in all black behind her, the blood red of her dress. As she stepped inside, Connor pressed the button for his floor and then spun her around. Her back hit the mirror as he slammed his lips against hers. She could feel every muscle, every part of him pressed up against her body…so close it felt as though they were one person.
Their teeth hit, their tongues dueled. Connor thrust his fingers into her hair, holding her exactly where he wanted her. She couldn’t move, pinned in place by every part of him.
The elevator slowed, the characteristic gentle bounce before it came to a stop, and Connor moved to stand alongside her. She bit her lip, holding back the grin of excitement as he reached for her wrist, slipping his fingers around it instead of holding her hand.
It felt like an ownership of sorts, the sort that shouldn’t be so much of a damn turn-on.
“When we get into the apartment, I’m going to slide those panties down your legs in the hallway, and then you have the sum total of five seconds to hop on the stool in the kitchen. Do not remove your heels,” Connor said.
“Can I say one thing?” she asked.
Connor stopped in front of the apartment door. “Always,” he said, his voice sounding as though it were loaded with gravel and whiskey.
“I really like this side of you, Connor. I feel safe pushing boundaries with you.”
He looked off down the hallway for a second, but he wasn’t fast enough for her to miss the grin that crept onto his face. When he looked back at her, the grin was gone, replaced with a need and urgency that was hard to miss. He ran a finger along her cheek.
“Nothing between the two of us is wrong as long as we agree we want to try it. You’ll tell me if something isn’t right?”
Emerson nodded.
The door unlocked with a click, and Connor pushed it open, leaving her no option but to walk beneath his arm to step inside. He turned the lights on as the door shut behind them.
As good as his word, Connor silently inched her skirt up her thighs until he reached the lace waistband of her thong. Slowly, he slid it down her legs.
“Step out,” he said.
Without being reminded, Emerson walked to the leather stool in the kitchen and hopped onto the seat. She crossed one leg over the other and leaned her arms back on the counter.
With her red underwear still in his hand, Connor stalked toward her. He loosened his tie, sliding it from around his neck before he placed it on the table. Stalked was such a perfect word. Every step had purpose, his eyes never leaving hers. And it was she that he was coming for.
“You and this dress,” he muttered as he got close to her. He reached for her knees, his fingers tickling the soft spot behind them, and she uncrossed them at this gentle pressure. His palms pressed her thighs open.
Emerson watched as he rolled the hem of her dress higher and higher until she was exposed to him. The temptation to close her knees, to pull her dress down, was great. The vulnerability she felt was overwhelming her. But the look of adoration on Connor’s face kept her pinned in place.
“Beautiful,” was all he said.
His hands skimmed along her thighs until his thumbs reached her clit. She gasped as one thumb pressed against her wetness, before sliding up to her clit, then his other thumb repeated the action. A steady drumbeat of pressure and release.
Pressure and release.
Emerson allowed her head to drop back, and Connor wasted no time in pressing kisses along her collarbone, nibbling, biting, and leaving a trail of sensitized skin.
When his finger slid inside her, she reached for him, grasping his bicep as he worked his way deep inside her.
“Connor,” she gasped.
He slid his finger out of her and placed it in his mouth. “You taste so good,” he said, before sliding back inside her. More firmly this time. Two fingers stretching her wide. He curled them upward, reaching the place within her that caused her muscles to tighten and the telltale signs of a pending orgasm to rush down on her.
Emerson began to move against him, but Connor grabbed her hip, holding her exactly where he wanted her.
She groaned in frustration.
“Patience, Em.”
Connor pulled a condom from the inside pocket of his suit jacket before unzipping his trousers. Freeing his length, he rolled it on. He reached behind her, grabbing her ass and pulling her toward the edge of the seat, lining them up at the perfect height.
“Watch,” he instructed, his own eyes focused on the place where his cock rubbed against her.
With a single firm push, he slid all the way inside her.
“Ah, god. Connor.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “So good every time.”
With his thumb circling her clit, he proceeded to withdraw and slide back home.
Home.
She’d never been more certain that with Connor she’d found it.
Ignited sensations started to flame to life. A loud roar that overtook her ability to think
