He was all masculine confidence, used to the riches around him. He was at home here, the same as he was riding bikes with his nephew or walking through town. When our meal was cleared, he signed the check with a flourish before standing, his brow raised, his hand stretched palm up to me.
I stood resting my hand in his, more than a point of contact, it was an offering of my trust to him. Trust he’d take care of me tonight and maybe in the future. I wasn’t thinking about whether this fairy tale would end at midnight. We walked hand in hand out to the valet stand. His sports car pulled to a quiet hum in front of us. He opened the door for me, helping me into the low seat.
I pulled my dress around me so he could close the door, watching him round the hood. Black tux, shiny black sports car with its butter soft leather. He was sexy, and for tonight, all mine.
He slid into his seat, the door shutting softly. “Where to?”
“My place.” I’d never been surer about anything.
Glancing at the rearview mirror, he pulled into traffic without another word, as if determined to meet my request as swiftly as possible. We rode in silence, his hand alternating between the gearshift and my thigh. The warmth of his palm was a contrast to the cool silkiness of my dress. I imagined what it would feel like if he pushed my legs apart, my dress falling away so he could run his hand up my bare leg to the strip of silk panties separating him from my pussy. I bit my lip, wanting more.
He parked in front of my building, turning the car off, before turning to me. “May I come in?”
“Yes, please.” I loved that he’d asked so politely, even when I had every intention of inviting him up.
“I want to kiss you here, but I won’t be able to stop.” His door was open before his words left his mouth, rounding the hood with quick, sure strides. My door was open before I registered much else, his hand pulling me to my feet. The door shut behind me as I stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Keys?” He held his hand out to me as I pulled the key from my tiny clutch.
He unlocked the door, holding it open for me, his brow raised in silent question. If we stepped across the threshold, it would be the beginning or the end of something bigger than me, my wants, and desires.
I stepped forward with one heel, a silent acceptance that being here with him was what I wanted. He shut and locked the door behind us, flicking on the overhead light. I lifted my dress, walking carefully up the stairs, conscious of my sharp breath in my ears, the weight of his gaze on my ass. When I stepped on the landing, his fingers gripped my hips. “Don’t turn. Not yet. I want you. Tell me you want me too.”
Heat pooled in my belly, anticipation formed as well as wetness in my panties. “Yes. Please.”
He lowered his head to my shoulder, pushing my hair to the other side, while his lips ghosted my neck, the heat of his chest on my back. “Say my name when you tell me you want me.”
I arched my back, silently begging him for more, my hand reaching behind me to grasp his thigh. “I want you, Griffin.”
He groaned, his teeth running down my neck, his hand leaving my hip to slowly drag the zipper down. My heart beat hard and fast in my chest, my blood roared in my ears, tingles ran down my spine as he stepped impossibly closer, his hardening cock nestled against my ass.
I wanted to moan in desperation. I wanted to turn in his arms but I didn’t. I waited for his seduction. I wanted it. I needed it. I was desperate for it. “Griffin,” I begged, pleaded. “Please.”
His tongue licked a light, barely perceptible trail down my spine as my zipper continued its descent. The dress gaped open when it stopped at the swell of my ass. His bare hand covering the base of my spine, warm and steady. “No bra.”
I wanted to say I couldn’t wear one with this dress. That it was built in, but no words left my parted lips. My breath came in short, rapid spurts as I waited in anticipation for what he’d do next. Would he pull my dress the rest of the way off, or would he turn me in his arms, taking my lips with his? I teetered on my heels, sucking in a breath, waiting for him to decide.
He pushed the shoulders of my dress down my arms, over my bare breasts, my nipples puckered as they met the air, down over my hips until it was a puddle at my feet. “You’re so sweet.”
His hands ghosted up my hips, the dip of my waist, the sides of my breasts. My body trembled in anticipation. I was bared to him with the exception of a tiny strip of thong.
He kissed my neck again while I silently begged him to take my breasts in his hands, cupping them, lifting them, flicking a thumb over my nipples.
“Griffin.” No one had ever made me feel so desperate. I could have turned, taking things into my own hands but I didn’t. I wanted him to take control, to show me what he wanted. I’d never allowed a man to take charge in the bedroom or anywhere else. I trusted him to take care of me. “I want you, Griffin.”
My words sprung his fingers into action, he cupped my breasts as my head fell back on his chest, my eyes closing at the exquisite pleasure, the nerves sending a signal to my pussy. Pleas fell from my lips that I couldn’t begin to register. When his thumbs brushed my nipples, I sunk back into him, giving him my weight. The starch stiffness of his tux a stark contrast to the soft skin of my back.
“You’re so fucking sexy.” Everything about his words, his touch, were real, were honest. There was no act, only lust and passion for me.
I whimpered, unable to form intelligent words.
His fingers drifted down my quivering belly, playing with the band of my black silky thong before he plunged inside, my head exploding with anticipation. I widened my stance, turning my head, begging for his lips on mine. He dipped his head, meeting the silent plea on my lips, while two fingers confidently separated my folds before sliding inside. My legs threatened to buckle. It was erotic, sexy, too much, yet not enough.
He held me up, pumping into me in a steady rhythm, the fabric of his suit chafing my back, his other hand kept my nipple hard and aching. The need built inside until it was a living, breathing thing. I needed more. I wanted more. His thumb pressed hard on my clit as his fingers kept up its pattern until the orgasm crashed over me like the waves on a cliff, hard and rough. Soft moans fell from my lips, as my limbs turned to liquid in his arms.
He removed his fingers, leaving me wanting before swinging me easily into his arms. I kissed his neck, his collarbone, wanting his bare skin on mine. Tossing me onto the bed, I bounced once, before moving to kneel in front of him, conscious of my heels digging into my ass as I watched him unravel his tie, loosen his collar, slowly releasing each button. My thighs slick with my sweat moved restlessly beneath me. I wanted to help him, but I didn’t. This night would unfold the way he wanted.
The feeling of offering myself to him, mind and body, was achingly sweet. I’d been numb for so long that when I opened myself to feelings, they washed over me like a pulsing thing, getting stronger with each second. I bit my lip, stopping the plea that threatened to escape.
He undid his cuff links before dropping his shirt to the floor. “Don’t hold back.”
“I don’t want to rush you.” I shifted on my knees to the edge of the bed, closer to him, my nipples still hard and aching. I spread my legs, settling onto my haunches, wanting to feel my skin against the fine hair on his chest.
His eyes dropped to the space between my legs, his fingers moved faster, throwing his shirt on the floor, unbuckling his belt. My gaze drifted down his sculpted chest to the trail disappearing into his pants. He unzipped his pants, pushing them down over his hips, revealing black briefs barely containing his erection.