When they both needed to take a breath, he pulled back, still gradually, letting his hands fall from her hair and down to the buttons on the pale gray blouse she wore. Undoing one button at a time, he watched the inhale and exhale of her breathing, the rise and fall of her chest. When he was done, he pulled the blouse from where it was tucked into her skirt and pushed it off her shoulders, his gaze rested on the blushing mounds of her cleavage.
Wait.
The word was a gentle whisper in his mind. An instruction he was determined to follow. Letting the blouse fall to the floor, he reached around her, pulling her body flush to his. She gasped and wrapped her arms around his waist while he worked the zipper on the back of her skirt down. When he stepped away from her to push it over her hips, she pulled the tail of his shirt up and undid the button and zipper on his pants. The feel of her fingers lightly grazing over his already-stiff erection was pure bliss, and he momentarily closed his eyes to enjoy it.
She left his pants undone and went to his shirt, unbuttoning it before pushing it down off his shoulders. The undershirt he wore went next, and her hands immediately went to his pectoral muscles to squeeze.
With her hands on his chest, she pushed him down to the bed where he removed his shoes and socks. As he angled up toward her, she nudged his shoulders again until he was lying back on the bed. She removed his pants and boxer briefs, rubbing her hands along his legs and brushing a kiss over his hard dick. She eased away from him then, going to find his wallet where she retrieved two condom packets that she tossed onto the bed before straddling him.
“Okay, you can have a bit of control, Ms. Des.”
She smiled, a slow lifting of lips, a glimpse at straight white teeth and that light he loved to see rising in her eyes. “I like the sound of that.”
Yeah, he was sure she did. Des was definitely a woman who liked control—he’d known that from the first day he’d met her. Tonight he’d learned that she needed the control to keep from believing she’d lose herself if she didn’t have it.
Coming partially off the bed, he reached around her back and undid the black bra she wore. All that was left was a slip of lace that was supposed to be her panties—but was more like the bane of his existence at the moment. She reached for a condom packet then and eased off him while tearing it open.
He knew what was coming next, and still his mind exploded with pleasure as soon as she wrapped a hand around his dick. Expecting her to glide the latex down over his length, he almost passed out when she moved quickly, covering his tip with her mouth instead.
“Shit!” She had a perfect mouth. There was nothing else he could say about it, and no other words were coming out, anyway. Only the moans and groans that coincided with just how good it felt when her tongue swiped over his slit, then slid down his length like she was enjoying a favorite lollipop.
“You gotta stop that,” he murmured when it felt like his eyes were going to get stuck as they rolled to the top of his head. “Please, Des. You gotta stop.”
She pulled her mouth from him with a plopping sound that had him groaning one more time. “Payback’s gonna be a bi—” The word was cut off as she came forward and kissed his mouth.
This may have been the hottest kiss he’d ever experienced, with full open mouths, twisting tongues, and her hand still wrapped around his dick.
Wait.
There was that damn word again. He was getting pretty tired of it right about now. Flipping her over easily, he ran his hands down her torso when she was on her back. Climbing between her legs, which she eagerly spread wide for him, he dipped his head and took each puckered nipple into his mouth for a quick suck. He freed them with a sound reminiscent of the one she just made when she’d released his dick.
“This is killin’ me,” he grumbled and lifted her legs until her ankles were on his shoulders.
She didn’t have a chance to respond because in the next second he was burying his dick inside her.
What the hell was she doing?
Was she falling for him? For Maurice?
The way he eased in and out of her so excruciatingly slow, his dick hitting every spot deep inside that made her shiver in delight. The way his hands held her legs tightly against him while staring down at her as if he could see straight through to her soul. The way he whispered her name as he circled his hips and continued to dive in, pull out and then dive in again.
What would happen if he wasn’t falling for her? How would she survive that?
But then he was spreading her legs wide, easing out of her, and then moving ever so slightly so that when he sank in deep again, it was from a different angle, pressing against a different spot that had her biting her bottom lip with the same urgency. Why was he doing this? Why was he stroking her, spending time with her, understanding her, acting like this was more than just sex?
And why did him doing all those things feel so good? He was filling a space in her she’d purposely left empty, making her feel alive again in a way she’d sworn she’d never do.
The urge to give him something he’d never had before filled her
