Chapter 13 Sloane #2
His other hand comes up, and now he’s cradling my face, hungry eyes steady on my mouth. My lips are tingling, and I know my skin is flushed. I can feel the heat creeping into my cheeks, burning up underneath the rough skin of his palms.
“Is that a problem for you, angel?”
“Yes.” No.
“Why?” He licks his lips, and the quick swipe of his tongue sends my mind into a free fall. Vivid images of all the obscene things he could do to me with that tongue bombard me, and another warm rush of arousal slips down my spine.
“We’re not like that, Dominic. We can’t be like that.” Can we? Please say we can.
He takes another step forward and steals every bit of air from my lungs when his erection presses into my stomach.
And oh my God, the feel of him, hot and hard against me, has me biting my lip to stifle the moan clawing up my throat.
My eyes fall closed of their own accord, but I can still feel his gaze on me.
“Stop biting your lip and look at me, Sloane.”
But I can’t do it. I can’t look at him. He releases my face, and his hands glide down my neck, coasting over my shoulders and arms. It’s like he can’t stop touching me, and nothing in me wants him to.
His fingers feel exactly how I imagined: rough from years of physical labor and hot enough to brand me.
“You’ve thought about what it would feel like for me to touch you?”
Fuck, I said that out loud?
My eyes pop open, and my reward for the delayed response to his command is diving headfirst into two liquid pools of pure desire and need.
A look so raw and carnal I want to look away again, because if I don’t, I’m going to explode right here in James’s unfinished bathroom.
I start to turn my head, but his hand comes up and catches my chin between two long fingers—forcing me to look at him, to bear witness to the unexpected desire pouring off of him.
“Answer me, Sloane.”
Another command. One that matches the heat and severity of his gaze.
My lips part, but the words won’t come. I don’t know how to tell him his touch has been in my mind for days on end, that I’ve dreamed of him touching me just like this except with a lot less clothing between us.
Putting those words into the world would make them too real, so I settle for a small nod.
His answering smile makes my knees weak.
“I want to kiss you. I need to know if you taste as good as you do in my dreams.”
What? The confession is a low growl, one that has me squeezing my legs together in a laughable attempt to quell the ache between my thighs.
Before I can say anything, he dips his head and presses his lips to mine, rendering me motionless.
Warm and wet lips work against my stiff and stunned ones.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve welcomed a kiss from a man, but damn if this doesn’t feel amazing.
Dominic’s kiss is hungry yet gentle. Both of his hands are back on my face, tilting my head so he can slant his full lips over my mouth.
A moan rings out, and it takes a second for me to realize it’s mine.
He laughs, and it’s a sensual, dark sound full of promises I shouldn’t want him to keep.
“Quiet, angel,” he whispers against my lips.
“Do you want everyone to know what’s happening in here right now? ”
His words should scare me. The idea of any member of his team walking in on us like this—with Dominic’s dick pressed into my stomach and my body soft and pliable against every hard inch of his—should be like having a bucket of ice water poured over my head, but it just intensifies my need, making it a tangible thing in the room.
I want to feel his skin under my hands and find out if my touch affects him as much as his affects me, so that’s what I do.
I run my hand down his face, over the hairs of his beard that are tickling my face.
And then, when it’s not enough, I fist his shirt in my hand, tugging hard to bring him closer to me.
Dominic releases a groan of satisfaction.
And then that wicked tongue swipes over my bottom lip, coaxing me to open for him.
My body obeys his command without any direction from my brain.
Suddenly he’s tasting me, groaning into my mouth like a starving man who’s just had the first bite of an amazing meal.
I want to laugh at the way he’s disregarding the warning he just gave me, but a shiver rolls down my spine at the sound.
It’s so damn sexy. Dominic traces the path of the shiver over the thin fabric of my blouse, and that familiar zip of energy races through me.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m screaming at myself to stop—telling myself it doesn’t matter that my body feels alive under his touch or that I’m so turned on the evidence of it must be soaking through the lace of my thong—because this isn’t right.
I pull back. “Dominic.”
“Sloane.” He draws it out. It’s similar to the way he did on Sunday, when the sight of his mouth curling around my name set my soul on fire.
His lips move to my neck, and he takes a deep breath, inhaling my scent before dropping more kisses down my throat to my collarbone.
My pulse pounds in my ears, stealing all of my thoughts.
“Dominic, please…” The desperate plea hits the air, and Dominic freezes. He pulls back to search my face, and I wonder what he sees there—desire, hunger, panicked need that matches his own.
“What is it?” Another kiss to my lips. Soft and quick like he knows he’ll have the chance to do it again. “Tell me what you want, angel.”
My eyes fall closed when he pulls my bottom lip between his teeth, bites it, and then releases it.
Suddenly, I’m all sensation, trembling in the hands of my husband’s best friend.
Dying for his lips to coast over mine again.
For his hands to touch me, to do something about the incessant need that’s like a heartbeat between my legs. Why am I stopping this again?
Oh, yes. We’re at work, and this is Dominic “Asshole” Alexander. The man who has spent more than a decade insulting me, glaring at me, taking every chance he got to let me know just how much he disliked me. “You don’t like me,” I whisper. “We don’t like each other. Why are we doing this?”
Another dark chuckle rumbles in his chest as he rolls his hips into me, letting me feel how turned on he is. His dick is a bar of hot steel against my stomach. I moan—a strangled, erotic purr I’ve never heard myself make.
“Every time I’m around you lately, I have one of these. Just from being near you, breathing in your scent, seeing your smile, and now just from kissing your pretty mouth.”
My cheeks heat at his words. I had no clue I affected him this way. Something close to feminine pride swells in my chest.
“I think we’re well past the point of discussing whether or not I like you. As for how you feel about me…” He starts moving, forcing me backward until my back collides with the wall. “Well, you could say you hate me right now, and I’d still want you to sit on my face.”
“Dominic!” I gasp, slapping him in the chest and trying to sound horrified instead of turned on at the thought of his face between my legs.
I don’t know why I even bother. It’s clear to me how thrilled I am at the idea of Dominic liking me.
Wanting me. That dangerous swell of feminine pride in my chest expands.
Encouraged by the heat of his body soaking into mine, mixing headily with a need so intense it has my nipples tightening into hard peaks I know he can feel pressing into him.
I can’t tell if I’m devastated or relieved that he can’t feel the way my clit is throbbing, begging for his attention.
For a release I somehow know only he can give me.
How can I be so certain of that?
Dominic sees right through my act. His sinful mouth curls into a devilish grin before swooping down and sealing over mine again.
He dips his tongue into my mouth with imploring strokes that mimic the way his hips are subtly thrusting into me, branding me with the evidence of his desire.
Both his hands slide down my body and reach around, gripping my ass and then lifting me up.
He pins me in place with one powerful thigh wedged between my legs and the pressure is exquisite.
I roll my hips, rocking shamelessly against him to chase the familiar building of pressure that promises an earth-shattering release.
“Fuck, Sloane, look at you,” he whispers hoarsely, breaking the kiss to take in the sight of me riding his leg.
His eyes are narrowed and full of heat, the set of his jaw tense and the muscle in it ticking in the most familiar way.
I lean forward, intent on scraping my teeth across that infuriatingly beautiful muscle, but Dominic pins me to the wall with one hand on my hip.
His fingers are rough as they dig into my waist, but I don’t care, because now he’s directing my movements.
Urging me to angle my hips forward so the demanding bundle of nerves is rubbing against his leg with every swirl of my hips.
And the idea of us working together like this—as a unit, a team—with my pleasure as its sole focus has me half crazed with wanting him.
Dying for more than his powerful thigh between mine, his commanding hand at my waist, and his reverent lips on my skin.
Even as my orgasm builds, I’m hyperaware of the empty ache inside of me.
Of the hungry clenches of my walls that won’t be satisfied this way.
“Dominic, I need—”
“I know, angel.” He brushes his lips over mine, tasting my plea. “But I can’t give you that now. Not here.”
The promise of another moment like this with him sends a wave of panic through me, but it’s quickly swept away as his other hand comes up to grip my breast and nimble fingers tease my nipples.
Plucking and strumming them until I’m panting and frantic with the need to come.
More, my body screams. More. More. More.
As if he can read my mind, Dominic tightens his grasp on my waist. Moving me in slow, intentional swivels that have me whimpering desperately into his mouth while he presses his leg harder against me.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re about to come.” His gaze is hot on my face, molten lava that burns me up from the inside out. “I can’t wait to have you like this again, but next time, you’ll be coming on my dick. Do you want that, angel?”
I can’t answer, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t need a verbal response, because my body is telling him everything he needs to know.
“I know you do.” He leans forward and plants a hot, wet kiss on my collarbone.
“This feels amazing, but it’s not enough for you is it, baby?
Next time, we’ll have hours. I’ll strip you down with my teeth, so I can see every inch of you while I fuck you against the wall. ”
My pussy ripples around the empty pressure building in my core.
The image Dominic paints of us with his words pushes me to the brink.
I lean forward, burying my face in his neck and biting hard to muffle the strangled noise being ripped from my throat as my orgasm shatters me, slamming into me until I’m nothing but tiny fragments of lust and desire, and the only thing holding me together is Dominic’s large body caging me to the wall.
His rough voice, reverent and worshipful, as he runs his hands up and down my back.
I come back down slowly, shivering into the crook of his neck and trying desperately to pull in a lungful of air that isn’t obstructed by the lump in my throat.
I swallow several times in hopes of clearing it out, but the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach lets me know it’s not going anywhere.
Not before it destroys me.
Panic grips me first. Rooting me in place so guilt and shame can latch on to me with ease, washing away every remnant of the thrill and exhilaration I felt just moments ago.
Without the fuzzy haze of lust clouding my mind, I can’t hide from them.
I can’t beat them back or shut them down, and I feel like I’m being eaten alive.
My heart starts to pound. Tiny beads of sweat dot my hairline. And I still can’t fucking breathe. I’m vaguely aware of my arms dropping from Dominic’s neck, of my hands at his chest pushing him away from me while tears slip down my face.
Stay calm. You’re okay. You are okay, the rational part of my brain croons, but the other part—the part screaming for me to get far away from this man so I can cry my eyes out—is louder.
And I have no choice but to let it win.