Page 13 of Devil Wears Nada
“Next time,” I murmured in his ear as I worked him open with careful fingers, “I’m designing you pants with easier access.”
He laughed, the sound turning into a gasp as I found that spot inside him. “Forward-thinking design. I—ah!—approve.”
We had to be quick, which meant less preparation than usual. But Van was eager, pushing back against my fingers with impatient sounds.
“Now, Lucas,” he demanded. “I need you now.”
I withdrew my fingers and quickly freed myself from my trousers, using the precum leaking from my cock to provide additional lubrication. Then I was pressing against him, pushing inside with a careful thrust.
Van’s head fell forward, a shudder running through his perfect body as he took me in. “Yes,” he hissed, “exactly what I needed.”
I established a rhythm immediately, one hand on his hip, the other reaching around to stroke him in time with my thrusts. The position was awkward, the space confined, but the risk of discovery only heightened everything.
“You have no idea,” I whispered against his ear, “how incredible you looked tonight. Every person in that room wanted you, but you’re here, with me.”
“Yes,” he gasped, meeting each thrust. “Only you, Lucas. Only ever you.”
The words sent a shock through me that had nothing to do with physical pleasure. Before I could examine it, Van was clenching around me, his body shaking with the effort of staying quiet as he came over my hand. The usual glass-breaking was limited to a single lightbulb above us, which popped with a soft sound.
“Getting better at control,” I observed breathlessly, still chasing my own release.
“Practice makes—ah!—perfect,” he managed, continuing to move against me even as he recovered from his own climax.
When I came moments later, burying my face against his neck to muffle my groan, I felt something shift between us—something that went beyond the physical connection we’d established.
We cleaned up quickly with tissues from a box on a nearby shelf, adjusting our clothes with the efficiency of those who might be caught at any moment.
“How do I look?” Van asked, smoothing his hair.
I studied him—flushed cheeks, slightly swollen lips, eyes bright with satisfaction, clothes somehow still immaculate despite what we’d just done.
“Perfect,” I said honestly. “Infuriatingly so.”
He grinned, that genuine smile that always caught me off guard. “One of my many talents.”
I reached out to adjust his collar, letting my fingers linger against his neck. “We should get back before people notice we’re missing.”
He caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm in that way he’d taken to doing recently—a gesture that felt almost reverent.
“Let them wonder,” he said, but he moved toward the door anyway.
I caught his wrist before he could open it. “Van, wait. What you said in there…”
“Heat of the moment,” he said quickly, a flicker of something like panic crossing his face. “A figure of speech. Don’t read too much into it.”
But I had heard it—that raw honesty in his voice when he’d said “Only you.” And judging by how quickly he was trying to dismiss it, he’d heard it too.
“Right,” I said, letting him go. “Of course.”
We slipped back into the event separately, me first, then Van a few minutes later. If anyone noticed our brief absence or my slightly rumpled appearance, they didn’t mention it.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of networking and congratulations. By the time we left, I had more business prospects than I’d dared hope for and a sense of impending success I’d never experienced before.
In the car ride home, Van was uncharacteristically quiet, looking out the window at the passing city lights.
“Thank you,” I said into the silence. “For tonight. For all of it.”
He turned to look at me, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “I told you I’d be an asset.”
