“Lexi. Fucking hell. You taste so damn good.” His voice has become rasped with lust and … not indecision, but turmoil over a decision already made.
I want more from this beautiful, god-like beast than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. He pulls me closer to him and I stand up. His gaze rakes sort of … adoringly over my body.
“You’re so beautiful.” He sounds awed. Just like that, like I’m already his, he pulls off my dress, so all I’m wearing is my panties and my heeled sandals.
I feel like I’ve just climbed out of some underwater seashell and been reborn as a lusty nymph who has no inhibitions, who’s made purely of hot, wet physical sensation. I know the thin, clinging fabric of my panties is revealing to him … pretty much everything.
Rafe’s dark eyes are heavy-lidded as he reaches slowly to slide his thumb across the saturated silk. I gasp because it feels … so good. He licks his lips. “You’re so wet for me, baby. I want to see you.”
Rafe Black clearly isn’t into second guessing things, because he rips my panties, with hardly any effort at all, tossing the tiny shred of fabric away.
This is happening. This is going to happen.
At the thought, I feel … happier than maybe I ever have in my life.
“Lexi. My God. You’re unbelievably fucking gorgeous.”
A hint of shyness—some vanishing piece of my old self—loosens. I want him to see me. It’s beyond crazy, but I want to entice him.
I’m standing between his knees. My breasts are close to his mouth. He takes them in his big, warm hands, plumping them to his mouth. Watching my eyes, he eases his hungry mouth around one of my nipples, licking and sucking in lusty pulls.
Oh my God.
I moan. It’s too good, too rife with sensation. Each tug sends a wash of molten feeling deeper, lower. I feel unbearably hot and ripe, there, like I’ve been dipped in warm honey. I feel like I might … be close to the edge. Already.
His strong hands clamp onto my hips—and holy hell, he’s strong—pulling me onto his lap, holding me exactly where he wants me. Our eyes lock in a connective link. A strand of his black hair has fallen over his forehead, somehow softening his severe beauty. I touch the thick silk of it, as our gazes hold, and a startling thread of tenderness passes between us, strengthening the lust, stoking it. “You’re so damn sweet,” he murmurs.
Tentatively, because I have never, ever done anything like this before, I ease my palm over the massive ridge of his hard-on. It’s stunningly hard, and hot, even through the layer of his clothing. I try to unzip him, fumbling with the fastenings, too hazed in a trancelike eagerness. He helps me and I gasp when he’s fully revealed to me. At the sheer size and perfection of him.
I touch him tenderly, taking his hot length in my hands, exploring and feathering with my fingertips. “Oh, fuck,” he groans. A bead of moisture seeps out of the tip of his cock. Is he about to … ? I’m completely new at this and have no idea what to expect. I touch my fingers to him, swirling the wetness it until he’s slippery.
Rafe’s hand takes mine. “I’m going to come if you keep doing that, honey. Come here.”
Rafe pulls me onto him and positions me so I’m straddling his hips. Then he begins to move me, closer, until—oh, God—he’s touching me. There. I let him move me along his length, until his cock is slick with my own juices. Rafe’s thumb circles, centering, skating over the tiny nub, which feels electric and hyper-sensitive, igniting a sweet, slow swell. If he does that again, I’ll lose it completely.
Instead, he guides the broad tip of his cock to my snug, slippery entrance, easing the head of his cock barely inside me. It’s too much. Feeling him there. The pleasure is unbearable. My orgasm starts slowly. I’m riding some sort of precipice. My inner muscles flutter around him, drawing him deeper. “Lexi. Oh, baby.” Then he grasps my hips in a firm grip and, using the rhythm of my own body, pushes into me. I’m too tight, but the wetness and his thrusting drives force his thickness deeper. And deeper. His fingers glide over my clit, and the pleasure explodes in a rich, crazy rush. It feels excruciatingly good. I feel blinded with it. Needy and totally overcome. Each ripple of my orgasm pulls him deeper and we move together, grinding, needing more, until I’m fully impaled, riding the huge, thick length of him. His bold fingers work a soft rhythm, spinning my climax further, deeper, higher. Aware of nothing but the astounding pleasure, my body grips him tightly, and he groans like he’s in pain. He’s saying something but I can’t comprehend it. Wait. You’re too beautiful. I can’t hold on. But my body is too possessive, too slippery. I’m riding him, pulling him deeper. I feel the flooding wetness, the thick, hot pulse of him deep inside me. The silky jets of his climax take me over another edge, the rush of spiraling waves milking him softly, again and again.
Oh.
Wow.
Just wow.
I’m floating.
I think I might be in love.
Is it possible to fall in love this fast?
With a complete and total stranger?
We stay there for a long time, rocked by the intensity of what just happened. Of what’s still happening. Rafe’s burly arms are wrapped tightly around me. He’s still deep inside me. My head rests on his hard chest. I can hear his heart beating.
I’m fully aware that, only a few short hours ago, I would have been shocked by my total abandon. I barely recognize myself. The consequence of what we’ve just done can—and probably will—be far-reaching, but I feel surprisingly removed from any of that. All I am is this moment. I feel supremely, ridiculously peaceful. I’m warm, and euphoric, cocooned in this haven high above the bustling city, wrapped in the arms and still wetly connected to a total (and unbelievably beautiful) stranger. I don’t want to move. I don’t want to break this bubble of bliss that, even now, holds on.
I don’t know why I abandoned every sane, reasonable thought to get as close as possible to Rafe Black. All I know is that he’s mine. I want to keep him. And I’ll do it all over again if he’ll let me.
It doesn’t make sense, but that’s just the way it is.
After a while, I move a little. With the small change in position, Rafe’s barely-softened cock slides deeper inside me. I’m a little surprised that he’s still as big—and hard—as he is. I have no experience with these things, but I think this might be kind of unusual. In a subtle adjustment, he moves me, causing his cock to swell even deeper in a vague, circular rub that triggers—oh, God—a new, instant heat. I’m not sure how I can be so easily turned on—again—and so soon after what we’ve just done. He obviously feels the same way. He doesn’t care about reason, just this. It’s too powerful. It’s too insanely good.
It seems amazing to me that he’s still almost fully clothed. I want to get closer. I unbutton the top buttons of his shirt, breathing in his masculine scent, layered now with sweat and musk and lust. I touch my tongue to his skin. He’s salty and mouth-watering.
“Kiss me,” he says. “Give me your mouth.”
I do, and he dips his tongue into me in a synced rhythm as he thrusts his big cock deeper.
He hugs me against his body, gripping me and easily lifting me. Still deep inside me, he lays me onto his desk. His messed-up hair frames his heart-breaking face. I love this: the cool, unapproachable top-floor CEO turned untamed, beefed-up sex god. His dark blue eyes glimmer and his gaze is tender under his lust. He kisses me again, like he can’t get enough.