Page 7 of Tight End
I punched the elevator button with more force than necessary, and when it opened, I pulled her inside with me.
The second the doors slid shut, my patience deserted me.
I backed her against the wall with my body, bracing my hands on either side of her head, and waited until her eyes met mine. Her breath hitched, and her chest rose against mine, her fingers curling into my jacket, like she needed to ground herself before she let go.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” I muttered. Then I crushed my mouth to hers.
Her gasp was something I’d chase for the rest of my life. I kissed her like I owned her, as though I already knew every inch of her body and couldn’t wait to map it again.
She kissed me back like she’d been starving for it. Hot, open, and needy.
Her hands slid under my jacket, her fingers curling around the hem of my shirt as though she was going to tear it off. I growled into her mouth, catching her wrists and pinning them to the wall above her head. She whimpered, her thighs pressing together.
I felt it all, every pulse of heat from her body and flicker of innocence behind her kiss. It made my chest tighten and my cock throb.
I wanted to devour her. Mark her. Brand her with every part of me.
Her body fit mine perfectly. Everything about her—curves, scent, the breathy little noises she made as I devoured her mouth—set off something primitive inside me.
The elevator dinged, but I didn’t move at first. Just kept kissing her like I’d die if I stopped. When I finally pulled away, her lips were swollen, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were glazed.
We stepped into the hallway in a daze. I walked her to my door, unlocked it, shoved it open, and pulled her inside. My living room was dark inside, save for the soft glow of the moon and the city lights bleeding in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
She reached for me immediately. No hesitation. Her fingers curled in my shirt again, and I kissed her as I kicked the door shut behind us. Every kiss turned wilder and deeper. Hands tangled in hair, pulling clothes free. Her sweater hit the floor, and my hands slid under the waistband of her jeans, palming the curve of her ass before I pushed them down as she fumbled to get my belt undone.
Then she stood there in nothing but a lacy green bra and matching panties, her hair messy from my hands, her lips kiss-bruised, and her eyes filled with need.
Slowly, I reached around her and flicked open her bra. She let it slide down her arms and fall to the floor. I groaned, watching her nipples tighten in the cool air. My mouth was on them before I could stop myself, sucking one between my lips and biting gently until she moaned. She clawed at my shirt, getting it over my head, then I lifted her by the thighs and pressed her back against the wall.
Her legs wrapped around my waist, and I nearly lost it right there. Her pussy pressed flush against my cock, and the heat from her center burned through her panties and into my jeans. All I could think about was how wet she must be. How hot and tight she’d feel when I finally pushed inside her.
I ground against her, slow and hard. Her head fell back with a gasp that sounded more like a plea. She rutted against me without meaning to, her breath hitching every time my hands squeezed her ass or I ground her closer. Her heels dug into my lower back, her body writhing between the wall and my chest.
“Fuck,” I growled against her throat as I carried her to the bedroom, her mouth finding my neck, her teeth dragging against my skin and fraying my control at the edges.
I lay her down gently, my eyes roaming over her flushed skin and tousled hair. She looked like a goddess sprawled across my sheets. She was radiant, her eyes dark with need—but something else was there too. A flicker of uncertainty. A split second of hesitation, of vulnerability. The second I saw the look in her eyes, I knew. My gut clenched, and I braced my hands on the bed.
“You’re a virgin.”
It wasn’t a question.
Her breath caught, her lips parting. She blinked up at me, wary but not ashamed. Then she gave a small nod.
I exhaled a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding.
"Thank fuck," I muttered, more to myself than her.
She blinked again. "What?"
I leaned in and kissed her forehead and temple, then settled my weight beside her and ran a hand down the curve of her side. "Now I won’t have to put my career in jeopardy by hunting down every guy who’s ever touched you."
She huffed a soft laugh. "You’re ridiculous."
I didn’t reply. Just kissed her again—this time slower, deeper.
She gasped when I palmed her breasts, my thumbs flicking over her nipples until she writhed beneath me.
"You’re so damn beautiful, Marissa," I rasped.
