Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Rayne
DK steps out of the shadows, and my mouth waters as my eyes eat him up. He’s breathtaking—a big, beautiful presence in the semi-darkness. His jacket is off, folded over the stair rail, his glasses inside the pocket.
“You got that warrior glow,” he says, approaching. The sound of his footsteps strike like thunder.
“I might have done a little conquering.”
“It suits you.” His gaze rakes over my hair, my face, and the cream blouse tucked into my taupe skirt.
He doesn’t stop as he nears me, his body on a collision course with mine.
I’m not the only one who has conquered. On the phone last night, he sounded charged, and I see it now in the flesh.
The man who used to hold all that guilt and shame—whose mind wouldn’t quiet enough to let him sleep—that’s not the man standing in front of me.
We’re two forces, shedding our pasts and reclaiming our power.
I hook my bag on the rail just as he takes that last step. I surge into him, my hands sliding up his chest to find the heat of his neck, pulling his mouth down to mine.
No one has ever kissed me the way DK does. It’s hot and demanding, his tongue a searing plunge that’s as sexual as when he’s sliding it between my legs. And yet there’s also tenderness, a kiss that makes me feel both cherished and desired.
I move against him, the tight press of his chest adds an unbearable friction to the disks. He feels the buzz, too. Lifting his mouth, one of his hands moves to my neck, wrapping the column of my throat. “You’re vibrating.”
“Mhm.”
“Show me.”
I unbutton my blouse and open the front. My cleavage spills over the V of my bra, the nipple shields visible beneath the smoky lace.
His pupils blow wide, making his eyes appear almost black. “Ms. Webber,” he drawls, tracing the outline of the disks with his fingers. “Were you in the meeting like this?”
“No. I wore them just for you.”
His teeth graze the curve of my breast, then sink a little deeper into the flesh.
My body responds, trained to associate that sharp sting and the slow drag of his tongue that follows with the hottest of pleasures.
I moan, hiking up my skirt to ride his hard thigh, grinding myself against the cool, crisp grain of his slacks.
He makes a rough sound as he shoves his hands inside my bra and squeezes my swollen breasts, pressing his fingers into the skin around the shields. “Christ, you’re so perfect,” he murmurs. “Come for me just like this.”
I stroke my clit up and down his thick thigh, straining toward the impending bliss that’s right within my reach. “DK,” I gasp when he shifts his leg, the movement hitting just where I need it.
Desire pours out of me—not just from pleasure, but from the swell of emotion. Unable to contain it, I climax with a breathless cry, trembling as ecstasy explodes through my body. I writhe against him until the sensations ease.
“Beautiful.” His hands gentle on my breasts. “Touch yourself. Let me taste you.”
My blood leaps. Still shaking, I reach between my legs and gather my wetness.
Then, bringing my glistening fingertips to his lips, I paint them with my essence.
It’s smoking hot, seeing my juice on him, and the way he slides his tongue out to slowly lick his lips before holding my wrist and sucking each finger into his mouth.
“Mmm,” he moans, dragging his hands down my waist to my hips as he lowers to his knees.
He nips at my damp inner thigh, conveying his animal need for me.
“You’re an addiction,” he says, the light tugs on my skin sending heat spiraling through my system.
“Your taste, your scent. Everything about you.”
Then he plunges two fingers into me, and my sanity shatters.
The lancing thrusts shock my body, priming me to take him.
I squeeze my breasts, the disks buzzing my nipples, my breaths hitching higher with each thrust. When his tongue joins in, massaging my clit and taking the hood into his mouth for the tenderest suction, an orgasm rips through me, emptying my mind and stealing my balance.
Without stopping, he holds me up with his other hand while my limbs quake and my heart hammers.
“DK.” I grab at his hair. “Fuck me. Now.” It’s as much a plea as an order.
He stands and grips my bare ass in his hands, bringing himself flush with me. The wall is cool against my back in contrast to his hard heat against my front. “You want my cum filling you, Mnandi?”
“Yes.” The word comes out ragged.
Slowly, his lips move over my throat, forging a hot trail to my mouth. I hear the erotic rasp of his zipper lowering. “Take me inside you.”
I love how he gives me the lead without losing a shred of his own command.
My hand circles his thickness as he bends his knees, lining himself up for me.
He’s big and throbbing, an audacious display of how much he wants me.
I stroke the wide crest through my cleft, making him slick with my arousal before pressing the first steely inch of his dick into my body.
“Luna,” he groans. Then, with a flex of his hips, he fills me up. The stretch is a welcome burn. The connection is like the scorch of the sun.
He drapes my thigh over his forearm, opening me wider as he begins to move.
Pinned against the wall, every thrust takes him deeper and presses his chest harder against the vibrating shields.
The double pleasure is exquisite—being fucked relentlessly while my nipples are being constantly sucked by the toys.
I wobble on one leg, perched in a six-inch heel, clenching around him, helpless to meet his grinding lunges.
“Tell me you want more,” he grits, driving into me.
“Yes,” I whimper, my nails clawing beneath the back of his shirt, scraping hot flesh and muscle. “You fuck me so good.”
He curses and presses my leg higher, angling me as he skillfully strokes over the live wire of nerve endings, reaching that magical spot he’s memorized—the one that’s been aching for his touch.
I moan from the pleasure of being dominated and serviced both at once.
Our gazes lock on each other as the tension tightens between our joined bodies.
Except for my open blouse, we are both fully clothed in business attire, wildly fucking two floors down from where people are working—the place where, in three months, I could be governing.
I find that as illicit as the carnal sounds he’s making.
It’s like the pleasure is too extreme for him to form words.
For me, that’s even sexier than dirty talk.
DK is just as lost in me as I am in him.
With both hands on my ass, he commands the rhythm, driving the big crown of his shaft into me, each thrust harder than the last, taking me to my limits.
I tighten around him, so turned on by my primal lust, my teeth clamp down on the meat of his chest, catching his skin through the fabric. He hisses and keeps thrusting like a man possessed. I hold onto him, hot and slick, my body offering no resistance to his ruthless need.
I watch him through the haze of my orgasm, needing to see him lose it. His features tighten, his breaths coming in bursts, his eyes blurring as his climax builds.
“Loo-nah.” He pounds into me, yanking my hips to meet him before he comes with a guttural roar, shooting so hard I can feel the hot, thick rush of his release shaking his large frame.
He works to catch his breath, and I watch his features soften with a tenderness that echoes the way I feel.
Stripped down to the basest emotion. No walls or defenses.
He lowers my leg and wraps his arms around my waist, crushing me to him. I cup his jaw, kissing his face, his mouth, softly stroking his tongue with mine to soothe us both.
“You destroy me every time,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Me?” I say between kisses. “I didn’t do anything.” Other than take exactly what he was giving—and that had been sexy as hell.
“You hot, wet, and moaning… that’s my undoing.”
I smile and hug him. Being in DK’s arms is one of my favorite things. But beneath the intimacy is the awareness that with the workday ending, we need to get out of the building without being seen coming from the stairwell.
DK helps relieve me of the shields, licking each nipple before tucking me back into my bra.
He uses the wipes from my purse to clean me up, taking his time with the aftercare.
He pockets the cloths, not leaving any evidence behind, and closes the folds of my blouse.
Then he smooths down my skirt before adjusting his own appearance.
Watching him pull himself back together makes me miss him already.
It’s the lakehouse all over again. The end-blues.
“I hate this part,” I admit, annoyed for complaining about a situation I agreed to. “I hate that we have to part ways until we can figure something out. I hate how pissy that makes me sound.”
“You don’t sound pissy.” He catches me around the waist, pulling me back into his warmth. “I hate this part too. I want more than a quickie and a goodbye,” he says. “I want real time together.”
“So do I. But how?”
“Come home with me next Saturday.”
I blink. “To meet your family?”
“Yes.”
“It’s your grandmother’s birthday, DK. I can’t impose.”
“My family’s already excited about meeting you. They’ll probably have us engaged by Sunday.”
I know he’s joking, but not gonna lie, the idea of marrying DK has already taken shape in my mind. I realize it’s too soon, but I was that girl who dreamed of becoming President while also planning her wedding and naming her future children.
“Luna?” His voice pulls me back, his brows tugging together. “I wasn’t serious about the engagement.”
Talk about a misread. “You’re the one who should be scared. I had my wedding colors picked out before I even got my driver’s license. I used to play house with my dolls. Baby Alive with her afro puffs—she could eat and actually pee—that girl was elite.”