“Not before you tell me what you were going to say.”
“What does it matter? You’re married!” I snarled, pushing back into him. I hated the way his closeness and heat were driving lust through me, shattering my willpower. “Why don’t you go back to her. Leave me alone!”
“I can’t.” He restrained me against a shelf. I turned my head, but he caught my chin, yanking it back to him. “My life is complicated. I understand if you want to walk away. Hate me. But the truth is, my wife is dead. She died two years ago. There is no one left inside her, and I thought I was no better…until I met you.”
My breath hitched, and my head tipped back to look at him.
“I can’t walk away from you.” He let go of my jaw. “But if you want to, I get it.” He motioned to the door. “Go. I won’t stop you.”
Not even a muscle twitched, my gaze locked on him.
“I’m warning you,” he rumbled. “Go now.”
I knew I probably should. Both our complicated situations made us such a disastrous tragedy, but I couldn’t—no matter if it was right or wrong or what outcome may be in store for us.
“Spencer.”
“I can’t,” I whispered, our gazes locking. Heavy. Wanting.
A deep growl came from his chest. His hand clutched the back of my neck, his physique smashing into mine, pinning me up against the wall.
“What are you doing?”
“What I wanted to the very first day I met you.”
Chapter 11
His fingers curled into my skin, drawing my mouth to his with a crushing force. Our lips met, igniting my anger and lust into a ball of frantic energy. There was nothing sweet or slow, our mutual need combusting and splintering over the room. His mouth was desperate as it claimed mine. His hands moved down, gripping my hips, his erection pushing into my core, throbbing against me. A small groan broke from my lips.
“I woke up craving you.” His full lips were demanding between words. “All I’ve thought about is being inside you again.”
“Same.” My nails raked through his hair, pulling him closer to me, desire traveling down my spine and between my legs. “My assistant almost caught me.”
“Caught you what?”
“Touching myself, wishing it was you.”
His reaction was immediate and feral, his hands sliding up my shirt, pushing up my bra, squeezing my breasts. Our kisses went from needy to frantic. I tugged at his bottom lip, driving a growl from his throat.
“Spencer.” His voice was gravelly and full of intention—a question, demand, and warning.
Shoving his jacket over his shoulders, my hands tugged at the buttons of his jeans, yanking them over his hips, answering every implication he asked without saying anything.
His muscles along his stomach flexed as my fingers glided against his skin, running down his V-line, the tip of him already glistening and pushing out of his boxer briefs. He watched me, his breath stumbling as I palmed him, moving up and down his length.
“Fuck.” He sucked in, his eyes glinting in the dim light. He fumbled with my jeans as I continued to work him.
I wanted to taste him, to watch him crumble around me, but I knew we had limited time. The thrill that someone could open the door at any time heightened the need to urgent levels. He got my jeans down enough before he clutched my sides again, lifting me, my back slamming into a shelf, toppling small boxes, plastic bottles, and medical packages to the ground.
He gripped himself, angling himself and thrusting into me.
“Oh, god.” I moaned. My entire body arched, my lungs catching at the feel of him filling me to the point I couldn’t breathe.
“Shite.” His gripped my hips harder, pushing in deeper.
Buzzing heat and desire took over me. Whatever it was about him, he turned me into a complete feral animal. I had no thoughts of anything but needing more. Pleasure so severe flickered through me as he plunged deeper into me, our rhythm picking up pace.
Noises I had never made in my life cried from my lips, my legs and nails dug into him, matching his pace and intensity.
“Jesus, Spencer.” He thrust deeper, harder, until my eyes leaked, my climax building up.
The sounds of our need filled the closet, our uncontainable moans bouncing off the walls. Items tumbled to the ground with thuds as the shelf squeaked against our rigorous movement. If anyone walked by, they would hear us. But I couldn’t seem to care, nor could I seem to get close to have enough of him.
Friction built, creating an even more desperate need for each other. He tilted me back and drove in harder. A cry escaped my lips as I clenched down around him; a cascade of pleasure rocked through me, parting my mouth and locking my muscles as bliss dotted my vision.
A deep growl vibrated his chest, going even deeper and harder, his hips bruising my mine as he released inside me, quaking my body again, sending another small orgasm through my limbs.
It took serval moments to catch my breath, to come down. Our ragged chests, grappling for oxygen, knocked against each other. We clung desperately to each other like we would float away in pieces if we didn’t hold on.
“Fucking hell, Spencer.” His lips grazed my collar bone, drifting up to my ear in a low rumble. “That was...” He broke off, leaving it up in the air. I understood. I had no words for what was between us. All I knew was the intensity was rising, not being sedated.
“This is going to be a big problem.” He nipped at my neck before easing me down his body. Like last time, the moment he left, I wanted him back.
“Yes, it is.” I took in a shaky breath, wagging my head as I tried to steady myself back on my trembling legs. “Did you kind of hope this time it would have just been okay?” I pulled back up my jeans, straightening out my clothes.
He tugged up his own jeans, his head lifting, his eyes locking onto mine. In the minimal light, they glinted, making him look like a wild animal. Hungry.
“It would make things a lot easier.” His intensity never left me.
“Yeah.” I exhaled, leaning back against the wall. My muscles still felt like taffy. “It would.”
He moved back to me, his form enveloping mine, his heat snaking over my skin.
“I realized sex before was good. Great, even.” He placed his palms on either side of my head, his mouth only a breath away from mine. “But with you?” His lips grazed mine, my body instantly reacting, needing its drug of choice. “Like I said, this is going to be a problem.” His mouth moved over mine sensually, teasing.
His hand slid down my left arm, his finger hooking through mine, drawing it up and flattening it against the wall, twisting the object decorating my ring finger.
“You may wear another man’s ring.” His other hand ran down my body, dipping into my pants. “But this is mine.”
I heaved in a breath, my body tingling at his words. Normally, I hated possessiveness and any man claiming ownership of a woman like we were property.
With him, it turned me on because I felt the same about him.
“Really?” I tipped my head, trying to act like he wasn’t spearing fire through my veins by his touch. How quickly he could draw desire from me again.
“Yes.”
“You may be married to another woman.” I reached out with my free hand, rubbing it down the buttons of his jeans, feeling him twitch underneath. “But this is mine.”