Page 75 of Beauty
The move tugs at an invisible tether linked directly to my core, and the sensation pulls a moan from me.
“It’s hard to believe you’re real. That you’re here,” he grits out. “You, after all this time. You’re absolute perfection.”
As if my lower half has a mind of its own, one foot moves, dragging along the floor, creating more space between my legs. He slots a leg between mine, bending his knee, and my hips roll forward, pressing into him.
His eyes flare, the blue of his irises burning with need. “Still so reactive. So obedient,” he rasps. The praise is another reminder that he remembers every detail of our weekend together.
I can’t help the needy whimper that it pulls from my throat.
He drags the back of one finger over my breast and down to my belly. His touch is barely there as he skims along my pubic bone, but when he reaches my clit, he adds the tiniest bit of pressure and rolls a knuckle over that spot.
“Fuck,” I breathe, squirming against the wall.
“Are you going to come for me, butterfly? You know how much I love it.” His breath ghosts over the shell of my ear, eliciting a full-body shiver. And the kiss he plants on the sensitive spot just below lights up my nerve endings.
“Touch me, please,” I beg.
He licks the spot and nips at my earlobe before he drags his lips back to my mouth. As he fuses his mouth to mine, he slides his hand beneath my dress and trails the rough pads of his fingers against my thigh slowly, dragging out the moment, torturing me, making the burn that much hotter.
I shouldn’t want this. We shouldn’t be doing this. As of today, I’m his boss.
But he’s so much more than a member of the hockey team I’m now overseeing. He’s my Noah. The man I’ve spent years searching for.
When he reaches my panties, he growls into my mouth. “It’s like coming home. Fuck, can I come home, baby, please?”
The way he begs, when I know he never does, cracks me wide open.
I nod, my nose brushing his. “Yes. Fuck. Yes, just touch me.”
With his teeth sunk into his lip, he pushes my lace panties to the side. Then, without warning, he spears me with two fingers.
We groan in unison, and my pussy throbs.
“You’re so fucking tight, Sienna. Fuck, I missed this perfect cunt. Your silky heat owns me.”
The indecent wet sounds we make are loud in the quiet room.
God, after all this time, he still knows exactly how to touch me. Exactly how to get me where he wants me.
I tug on his hair, pulling him closer. He could be inside me, and he still wouldn’t be close enough. Irrationally, I worry he’ll disappear from beneath my fingertips. Like a mirage. Like he was never here to begin with.
With a groan, he grinds against me, his thick, hard cock trapped in the confines of his pants as he fucks me slowly with his fingers and kisses the goddamn life out of me.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “The feel of your tight little cunt squeezing me is enough to make me come, baby—” His words are cut off by a guttural noise. When his mouth drops open and his eyes flare wide with heat, I come undone. My vision goes spotty, and I spasm, sinking beneath the surface of this sexed-out abyss. All the while, he rasps out my name and comes against my thigh.
When I can breathe again, I drop my head back against the wall and laugh. “Holy shit.”
He squeezes his eyes shut and groans. “Sorry, I?—”
I push at his chest. “Let me grab something to clean up.”
The moment his body isn’t pressed up against mine, awkwardness seeps in. I push down my skirt, and with a half smile, I hold out the glasses I’m still clutching in one hand.
He takes them without breaking eye contact. If he’s uncomfortable with cum coating his pants, he doesn’t show it. No, the man watches me like he’s worried I’ll escape if he looks away.
That’s exactly what I did last night, so I guess I can’t blame him. And suddenly, I’m considering the tactic again as I pluck a few tissues from the box on my desk.
As I turn back, my attention snags on the stack of folders. On the one on top, with his name emblazoned on it.
