30. James
Chapter thirty
James
“ Y ou ready for tonight?” Dameon barges into my office at four o’clock, his grin so wide that I want nothing more than to wipe it off his face. He knows everything that went down two weeks ago—the standoff with Cora at Eden and the call from the police station. He’s been enjoying this far too much.
I exhale heavily, reclining in my chair and pinching the bridge of my nose. “Honestly… no.”
He sniggers. Of course he’s eating this up. Over the last couple of weeks, he’s been the one working closely with Cora on tonight’s gala—Hayes her body trembles.
My hand slips beneath the high slit of her dress, tracing the edge of her thong. She’s soaked, just like I knew she would be. I pause for a moment, enjoying the way her body responds. Her breath quickens and her eyes flutter shut, anticipation thrumming between us like a taut wire. I could rush this, take her quickly like I want to, but this moment demands more—demands that I make her feel every second of it.
“Perfection,” I murmur, slipping two fingers inside her, relishing the heat that envelops me. Her head falls back against the wall and her lips part in a soft gasp. I pick up the pace, curling my fingers to hit that spot that makes her fall apart.
Her body moves against my hand, her nipples straining against the dress. The sight of her like this—so vulnerable, so desperate—makes me snap. I tug the fabric of her dress down, exposing her breasts, and take one nipple into my mouth, biting gently at the tip. Her taste drives me mad. I pin her against the wall, feasting on her as she rides my hand. Anyone could walk past the bathroom to our little alcove and see us, but I couldn’t care less. She’s riding my hand like her life depends on it with her tits exposed, bouncing up and down. I want everyone to see her being pleasured by my hand and mouth, to know who she belongs to.
“Are you mine, Cora?” I rasp against her skin.
“Yesss,” she hisses, her body trembling, her climax close.
“I didn’t hear you,” I taunt, curling my fingers deeper inside her.
“Yes!” she cries out, her voice breaking as she unravels.
“Atta girl.” I smirk, watching her come undone, her body arching, her walls tightening around my fingers as she crashes over the cliff. I milk every last wave of her orgasm, reveling in the feel of her in my hand.
As she comes down, her breath heaving, I watch her. She’s stunning—flushed, and completely wrecked in the best way. Every time I’m with her, I feel it—the pull, the need to be near her. Two weeks apart felt like a lifetime, and now, standing here with her, I know I can’t let her go.
Maybe this is love, this aching need to be close to her. Maybe I’m too far gone to care.
Cora opens her eyes, giving me one of those smiles that makes my heart clench. Her cheeks are flushed, her body glowing. I crash my lips to hers, kissing her with all the pent-up desire and frustration I’ve held in for weeks.
Footsteps echo down the hallway, snapping us apart and back to reality. I pull my fingers from her pussy, helping her smooth her skirt while she tucks her tits back into her dress. Her hair is a mess, her lipstick smudged. She’s perfect.
“We got lucky,” she whispers, her eyes wide as the footsteps veer off into the bathroom.
I chuckle. “Very lucky.” My cock throbs painfully, but we don’t have time. “As much as I’d love for you to walk around with my cum on your tongue or dripping from your gorgeous pussy,” I murmur, adjusting myself, “we don’t have time. The scent of you on my fingers will have to be enough.”
She shoots me a sultry smile before slipping into the bathroom.
Forcing myself back to the party, I swipe a drink from a passing waiter and join Dameon, who’s deep in conversation with the senior management team. I nod along, pretending to care, but my mind isn’t here. My eyes keep drifting to the hallway, waiting for my brown-eyed goddess to reappear.
Finally Cora steps out, looking flawless—her gown smooth, hair fixed, and that post-orgasm glow still lingering. Seeing her like this, surrounded by people who have no idea she was just pleasured by my hand, sets fire to my blood all over again. The urge to claim her, to pull her back into that hallway and mark every inch of her skin with my cum consumes me. I might control her body, but it’s a fragile illusion. The way I crave her, the way my world narrows when she’s near—it’s not control. It’s surrender. Whether I like it or not, I’m already hers.
Dameon, ever the observant bastard, catches the direction of my gaze. He lets out a low whistle, leaning in close enough that only I can hear him.
“Looks like someone made up.”
I smirk, lifting the glass to my lips. “You could say that.”