Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
H e sank his teeth into the flesh between my shoulder and neck and released my wrists. He pulled me off the glass and turned me around to face him. “Oh, it won’t be over fast.”
I found a bit of courage somewhere in the morass of pleasure. “So you say.”
His eyes flashed as he slowly lowered to his knees. I stared down at him, my thighs quivering. Even on his knees, he was huge.
When I’d started this day, I definitely didn’t think this was where we’d end up.
He shifted forward and lifted my leg, hooking it over his shoulder. His gaze never left mine as his mouth traveled along my inner thigh. His grip tightened on my waist the closer he got to my center. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.
I wanted to say no. It was too much, too intimate, but my body was shrieking yes and had overruled every chance at a veto. I couldn’t even give a halfhearted no. Because I really did want this. To know what mindless pleasure was.
I’d never been able to let go, but then again, I’d never had a man like Blake show me there was a reason to.
Everything in his eyes matched the anticipation winding around my senses. And right then, I was so very happy he was so freaking tall. He trailed a teasing road from my waist to my breast before cupping me. His thumb brushed the underside of my nipple as his breath grew warmer the closer he got to my swollen slit.
Breath lost to the mounting tension, I shuddered out a sob when he tugged on my nipple at the exact time that he licked me from my swollen center up to trap my clit in a ruthless suction. His body tensed and, once again, gold fire obliterated the green in his eyes.
I didn’t know what to do with my hands. With anything.
He seemed to want me completely on display for him, but, oh, God.
I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t remember how my lungs worked.
Where the teasing had been a slow burn, this was absolute detonation. He licked and sucked as if I was the only sustenance he ever needed.
His other hand went around my ass to hold me still.
I hadn’t realized I was bucking up against him. I was completely separate from my body, winding tighter and tighter until I had to be sucking up all the oxygen in the room.
Finally, my hands wouldn’t be denied. I sank them into all his soft, thick, silky hair and tried to pull him away. He wouldn’t listen.
He drew back for a moment, and his chin and lips glistened.
With me.
With what he’d been doing to me.
But then whatever I’d thought was the definition of ruthless was replaced with the reality of Blake.
He lashed at my clit with his tongue even as his lips kept it hidden away. The heady, overwhelming emotions turned to panic as I climbed past pleasure into the first shimmer of pain.
I tried to inch away, but he wouldn’t let me go. Both hands fastened onto my hips, and the suction faded. The blood returned to my clit and erupted in a mind-bending release. Tears shattered me, and suddenly, he was there, around me. I couldn’t breathe through the maelstrom inside me.
It was as if he’d dragged every emotion out of me and replaced it with pleasure. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t possibly hold it.
He scooped me up and backed into the corner of the vestibule. He slid down until we were on the floor. He’d twisted me so my body was tucked into his, my knees drawn up against me. I pressed my face into his neck. “I’m s-s-sorry. I can-n-n’t.”
“Hush.” He draped an arm over my thighs and pulled me in tighter. “I pushed too hard.”
I breathed in the spicy citrus scent of him, slowly calming. Shivers softened to shudders, and then the quiet sound of his heart replaced my jangling nerves.
I don’t know how long we stayed like that. I couldn’t stop breathing him in, nor could I give up the contact. I was starved for it, and unfortunately, he was the handy recipient.
I tried to move. His grip tightened, and he groaned.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, Ms. Copeland.”
I couldn’t tell if he was still hard. Had he lost that sparking need that had been firing between us? I wondered if I could get it back if that were the case. I found myself smiling into his neck. “Even after all this, you can’t call me Grace?”
He rubbed his chin over the top of my head. “Hush now.”
I peered down at the three buttons opened at his neck to his crooked tie. I didn’t want to analyze my reaction to him. Only I would turn a sexcapade into another reason to cry my eyeballs out.
Instead, I inched the tail of his tie out of the perfect Windsor knot.
“What are you doing?”
“Making you more comfortable.” I slid the tie out from his collar and draped it around my neck. Thanks to the streetlights, I could tell his watchful eyes had faded back to cool green. His eyebrows lowered, as if he needed to study me or figure me out.
I peered up at him, conscious of the material sliding across my skin. I tugged the ends of the tie until the wider end was longer. “I admit to a fascination with ties. So many different knots.”
His Adam’s apple jumped as I crossed the wider end over the skinny side and carefully built a knot. My heartbeat ratcheted up with each pass of the silk across my skin as I slowly formed the Eldridge knot. It was thicker and a little more complicated. It helped me focus through the nerves that were building again.
He was so watchful.
So very intense.
I finished it and tugged it up closer to my neck. “See? The light sheen to your tie makes it look especially kick ass.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked as he lightly traced the intricate folds down to the dimple in the silk under the knot. He tightened his fingers around the material and yanked me to him. “I was trying to keep myself in check.”
My pulse rocketed. “I appreciate that, but I’m fine now.” I shifted in his lap until I knelt next to him, just a little taller than him for this one moment.
He kept a hold of the tie and jerked me down to him. “Now isn’t the time to play.”
“Maybe a little bit of play.” Bold now, I straddled him. His jaw was so tight it looked like it pained him. I touched the full lower lip with the tip of my tongue. Just a little taste. I licked at that mixture of hard and soft. The slash of his upper lip and the achingly smooth lower.
His fingers trailed liquid fire between my shoulder blades to the dip at my lower back. I tucked my hand into the space where his buttons had gaped. Smooth skin. So hot and warm. Muscles rippled under my palm, and I couldn’t stop the curiosity that burned into me.
Ink.
So much detail.
Too much for me to capture when his mouth was doing all those delicious things to my neck. I wanted to rip the buttons open and explore him, but he had other plans. He hissed when my hand drifted down to his buckle.
His tattoo was forgotten in the urgency that unfolded between us. The outline of his shaft arrowed up until there was no stopping me. I definitely didn’t have to worry about his interest.
I needed his skin. Needed that part of him in my hands.
I flicked open the hook front of his dress pants. Oh, so beautifully made to create smooth lines, except now it was keeping him from me. I reached in, and there was steel under cotton waiting for me.
The only outward reaction was how still he became.
Then his fingers gripped my hips tighter. I needed him inside me. Needed him out of these stupid pants. At least enough for me to get him where I wanted him. I snaked into the opening of his underwear and groaned.
Blood pulsed under his skin as he filled my hand. I stroked him lightly.
This was the part I was unsure of. Missionary position with occasional spooning were pretty much the extent of my sexual knowledge. And tonight, I’d learned just what a mouth felt like, and how much I wanted to revisit the whole standing thing.
But here and now, there was Blake in my hand and a restless urge to take every part of him inside me. Skin, sweat, cock. I wanted to see him break.
Not just watch.
Not just get me off.
I wanted to be the one who found his lock.
He groaned and moved his hips restlessly.
“Like this?” I asked and twisted lightly along the base of his shaft and stroked up.
“Fuck.”
I smiled when a flush branded his chest and streaked up his neck with each caress.
“Ms. Copeland…”
“Grace.” I got to the top of his shaft and a drop of wetness slid over my fingers. “Say my name, Blake.”
The shadows were lengthening, and now the street was empty. No headlights to break the spell, no people sharing the moment, no regrets riding me.
All I wanted was this man to say my name. To know it was me who was in this moment with him.
He gasped out a groan as I palmed the head of his shaft and used the wetness to glide easier.
I leaned closer, the tie and my breasts flush to his skin as I breathed against his neck and up to his ear. “Say it.” I squeezed, excited by the tensing of his muscles.
Could he be strung any tighter? But he was frustratingly quiet.
The rasp of his beard against my skin, the heat of him in my hand, the solid body under me—all of it drove me a little more insane. I followed instinct, listened to his breathing, and risked a look at him.
Passion exploded between us. His fingers raked through my hair and tangled at the back. He drew my head back and feasted on my neck. He was reaching for something next to us and finally, I figured out it was his suit jacket.
For what?
He hadn’t let me cover up for what felt like hours.
I whimpered when his beard abraded my neck and moved down my chest. The material of his slacks rubbed against my inner thighs and swollen flesh up higher.
I ached. I’d heard the term before, but now I knew what it meant.
It wasn’t exquisite or exciting—the books got it wrong there. It was unending and crazy-making. It was as if my skin didn’t fit. This kind of ache would end with madness.
Worse than before, when I’d been teased within an inch of murder—that was nothing compared to how wound up I was right now.
Then I heard the crinkle of something and whispered, “Yes, thank God.”
Condom.
Finally.
“Stand for me, Ms. Copeland.”
Stand?
Was he on drugs? My legs didn’t work right now. I was on the verge of another freaking orgasm, and he hadn’t even touched me.
The verge, goddammit.
“Please.”
I shuddered out a breath at his hoarse plea. I used his shoulders to stand, my legs quivering as cramped muscles stretched, and my pins-and-needles feet regained a measure of circulation. But I wouldn’t let him see my discomfort. He already had far too much power tonight.
His nostrils flared as he used the corner of the vestibule to get to his feet. I lifted my chin and met his gaze. My skin was flushed, and I was a moment away from screaming, but I stood there and let him look his fill.
He walked toward me, his dress shoes on slate the only sound in our little haven. Well, the only one I could hear around the heartbeat that had climbed between my ears. I backed up. Not like there was anywhere I could go. We were in a ten-foot-by-ten-foot cage.
My shoulders hit the opposite corner, a few feet away from the door.
He ripped open the condom and took himself in hand.
I swallowed.
I’d wrapped my fingers around him, but within the shadows and folds of clothing, I hadn’t really gotten a good idea of just how…substantial he was. My fingers were small, but his were not. He looked down at himself for a second, then he watched my face as he rolled the condom down his length.
Suit pants and dark boxers framed his shaft. He wasn’t even going to take that much off?
And yet, that’s what made it so much worse for me. I didn’t want him to.
What did that say about me? That he was just an instrument of pleasure? That I was using him as he used me?
No.
No, Grace…that is definitely not the truth.
I wasn’t going to just let him take control of the entire situation this time. I moved into him as if he was my own personal polarized magnet. He met me halfway and leaned down enough for me to wind my arms around his shoulders. He lifted me, and my legs went around his waist.
No hesitation.
This was happening.