22. Celine #2
The kiss is urgent and deep, almost rough. There’s nothing careful in the way Zane kisses me now. His hand grips my jaw firmly as his tongue slides against mine, tasting like the whiskey he drank at Orlov’s house.
I kiss him back just as hard, my fingers curling into the front of his suit jacket. All the words we didn’t say in the car pour into this moment. The question I asked. The answer he wouldn’t give. Everything we’ve been circling for months crashes together right here in the dark penthouse.
He makes a low, rough sound in his throat and walks me backward, never breaking the kiss. My back hits the wall near the entrance, and I gasp into his mouth. His body presses against mine, solid and warm through his suit. I can feel how hard he already is.
“Tell me to stop,” he says against my lips, voice low and strained. “Tell me right now if you don’t want this.”
I don’t tell him to stop. Instead, I pull him closer and bite his bottom lip. “I want you.”
Zane groans and kisses me harder. His hands slide down my sides and grip my hips, pulling me against him.
We move together, stumbling a few steps deeper into the living room. The only light comes from the city glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It casts everything in cool silver and deep shadow.
He shrugs off his suit jacket without looking, letting it drop to the floor. I attack the knot of his tie, loosening it until he yanks it over his head. My fingers work on the buttons of his dress shirt as he finds the zipper at the back of my evening dress.
The sound of the zipper sliding down is loud in the quiet penthouse. Cool air hits my skin as he peels the dress down my body. It pools at my feet, and I step out of it, left in nothing but my heels and lace underwear.
Zane pulls back just enough to look at me. His breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling. His eyes move slowly over my body in the dim city light.
“Fuck, Celine,” he says, voice rough with want. “Look at you.”
He kisses me again, deep and hungry, then trails his mouth down my neck. He sucks hard at the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, hard enough that I know it will leave a mark. I moan and tilt my head to give him better access.
His hands cup my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they tighten. I arch into his touch, my own hands pushing his shirt open so I can feel the heat of his bare chest.
He walks me backward until my back presses against the cool glass of the massive window.
The city sprawls fifty-three floors below us, endless lights twinkling in the dark.
Zane drops to his knees in front of me, still wearing his unbuttoned dress shirt and suit pants.
He looks up at me, eyes dark and intense.
“Spread your legs for me,” he says, voice low and commanding.
I do. He hooks his fingers into my underwear and drags it down my legs. Then he leans in and licks a slow, broad stripe up my center.
I cry out, my hand flying to his hair. He groans loudly against me, the sound vibrating through my body.
“So fucking wet already,” he murmurs, then buries his face between my thighs.
His tongue is relentless. He licks and sucks at my clit with perfect pressure, then pushes two thick fingers inside me.
I moan loudly, my head falling back against the glass. My legs start to shake inside my heels. He fucks me steadily with his fingers while his mouth works my clit, sucking and licking like he can’t get enough.
“Zane,” I gasp, my fingers tightening in his hair. “Oh god.”
He grunts against me and curls his fingers, hitting that spot that makes me see stars. My thighs tremble harder around his shoulders. The wet sounds of his mouth and my moans fill the dark living room as pleasure builds fast and overwhelming inside me.
He keeps working me with his mouth and fingers, steady and relentless, until my legs are shaking so hard I can barely stay upright in my heels. The pleasure coils tighter and tighter inside me.
“I’m close,” I gasp, my voice breaking. “Zane, I’m so close—”
“Come on my tongue,” he growls against me, the words vibrating through my core. “Let me taste it, baby.”
The orgasm hits me hard. I cry out sharply, my back arching against the cool glass as waves of intense pleasure crash through me. My thighs clamp around his head, and my fingers tug desperately at his hair.
Zane groans loudly, licking me through every pulse, drawing it out until I’m trembling and whimpering.
He rises to his feet, breathing hard, his mouth shiny with my arousal. His eyes are dark and wild in the city light. Without a word, he turns me around so I’m facing the window. My breasts press against the glass, the cold surface making me gasp. I brace my hands on it as he presses up behind me.
I hear the sound of his belt and zipper. Then his thick cock is sliding between my legs, hot and heavy. He rubs the head along my soaked folds, teasing me.
“Tell me you want this,” he says, voice low and rough near my ear.
“I want you,” I breathe. “Please, Zane.”
He pushes inside me in one deep thrust. We both moan loudly at the feeling. He’s so thick, stretching me perfectly. He stays buried deep for a moment, his chest pressed to my back, one hand gripping my hip while the other slides up to cup my breast.
“Fuck, Celine,” he groans, breath hot against my neck. “You feel so good. So fucking tight around me.”
He starts moving, slow at first, then deeper and harder.
Every thrust pushes me against the window, the city lights sparkling far below us like we’re floating above the world.
The contrast between the cool glass on my front and his hot, strong body behind me is overwhelming.
I moan with every stroke, pushing back to meet him.
His hand slides down between my legs, fingers finding my clit as he fucks me harder. His other arm wraps around my chest, holding me tight against him.
“You drive me crazy,” he rasps, voice strained with pleasure. “You know that? Ever since the beginning. It’s always been you.”
His words hit something deep inside me. I cry out as another orgasm starts building fast. He keeps thrusting deep and steady, his fingers circling my clit perfectly while he pants against my neck.
“Come again for me,” he demands, voice rough. “I want to feel you squeezing my cock while I’m buried inside you.”
I shatter with a loud, broken moan, my walls pulsing hard around him.
Zane groans deeply, his rhythm faltering as my orgasm triggers his own.
He thrusts deep one final time and comes inside me, hot and thick, pulsing as he fills me.
His arms tighten around my body, holding me close as we both tremble through it.
For a long moment, we stay like that, still joined, breathing hard against the window. The city continues glittering below us, indifferent and endless. Zane presses soft kisses to my shoulder, his hands stroking over my skin with surprising gentleness.
He slowly pulls out and turns me around to face him. His forehead rests against mine as we catch our breath. Neither of us speaks about the question in the car.
It still hangs between us, heavy and unanswered. But right now, in the dark with his arms around me and the city lights painting our skin silver, it doesn’t feel quite as impossible as it did before.