Chapter 6
chapter
six
Thorne
She laughs, and I feel the sound everywhere. Up my limbs, through my veins, pounding in my chest. What is it about this woman that makes me feel so much? If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’d bewitched me.
“Okay, so you’re certain you can give me a toe-curling kiss?”
I lean forward, getting further into her space. “I am certain I can give you a kiss that will dampen your panties.”
She sucks in a breath. The black of her pupils widens, swallowing up the pretty brown of her irises.
Then she suddenly comes to her feet. “What would you be getting out of this scenario?” she asks.
Time spent with her. In her orbit. Getting to touch her, explore those plump curves that make my mouth water. Watching her fall apart. Hearing her cry out my name.
That’s what I could tell her. But that’s all too much considering we’ve known each other for less than a week. I’d rather not get hit with a restraining order for coming on too strong.
I’m still unclear what this pull is between us. I might write about happy endings, but I’ve never pursued one in real life. While my parents are still married, I’m not sure they’ve ever truly liked one another. As stereotypical as it is, Brits don’t emote very well. That’s how I was raised.
“I’m a man,” I say, as I close the distance between us. Now I’ve nearly got her pressed against my desk, though I’m not yet touching her. “You are a beautiful woman.” I let my eyes take in all of her facial features. “Why wouldn’t I want to share some pleasures with you?”
She licks her lips, and my eyes track the movements of that pink tongue as if national security depends on it.
“What about the whole virginity thing? Is that a turnoff?” she asks.
I want to be her first and last. That’s the thought playing on repeat in my brain. Again, I won’t be confessing that.
“A turnoff? Fuck no.” I pick up a strand of her silky, soft brown hair and twirl it around a finger. “Why would that ever be a turnoff?”
She shrugs. “I went out with a guy in my graduate program, and when I mentioned it to him, he thought it was super weird that I was in my twenties and still a virgin.”
“He sounds like a complete knob,” I say.
She laughs. “Your accent is rather inspiring when I think about my English Duke and lady.”
“I can whisper whatever you need me to get the scenes just right.” I softly grab her chin and stare into those chocolatey eyes. “Not only is you being a virgin not a turnoff, I find the prospect of being your first intriguing and very alluring. I’ve never actually had that particular honor before.”
She nods, slowly. “Okay… so how exactly do we proceed with this… uh… research?”
Her voice trembles slightly on the last word, and the sound goes straight to my groin.
I tilt my head, letting my gaze drag over her lips. “That depends. What kinds of things are you hoping to explore?”
Her eyes widen just a fraction, but she doesn’t shy away.
“Well…” She glances toward the door, then back at me. “Kissing. Definitely kissing. Maybe… some, um, grinding?”
“Dry humping,” I correct, my voice dropping.
Color blooms high on her cheeks. “Right. That.” She swallows hard. “And oral sex. Both kinds. Performing and receiving.”
Jesus Christ.
My pulse stutters. My restraint, usually ironclad, stretches to the breaking point.
“Addison,” I say, the word rougher than I intend. I drop my hands from her face. “You need to stop talking and go back to your office. Right now.”
Her brows knit together. “Why?”
“Because if you don’t,” I murmur, stepping even closer, “I’m going to go down on you right here. And I assure you, I take my snacks very seriously.”
Her lips part, a soft gasp slipping out. “Oh.”
“Precisely.”
For a moment, we just breathe each other’s air—my self-control dangling by a thread.
Then she blurts, “I also have a list.”
I blink. “A list?”
She nods, fast. “Of, uh… positions. Stuff I might want to try someday.”
I groan quietly, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You are determined to test the limits of my professionalism, aren’t you?”
Her eyes sparkle, a mix of nerves and teasing. “Maybe. Is it working?”
“Fuck yes, it’s working. Give me your hand.”
She holds it out to me, and I lower it to the front of my trousers. There is no way she is missing my raging erection pressing against the zipper.
“Oh,” she breathes.
“Yes, oh.”
Her fingers flex slightly, wrapping around my length. I groan.
“I wasn’t jesting with my threat. If you don’t want me to put my head beneath your skirt, you need to leave my office now.”
She swallows visibly. “Would you kiss me first? On my mouth?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” I reach for her, sliding my hand along her jaw, my thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. Her lips part on a shiver, and for a heartbeat we just hover there—heat, want, tension so thick it could crush me.
Her breath catches. The sound is soft, almost fragile, but it’s the last tether on my restraint snapping loose.
“Addison.” Her name leaves my mouth on a low rasp, half warning, half prayer.
“Yes?”
“Tell me to stop.”
She shakes her head, just once. “I don’t want you to stop. Kiss me, Thorne.”
That’s all it takes.
Then I lower my head and kiss her.
The first feel of her soft lips and all of my intentions flee. My kiss isn’t a practiced thing; it’s hungry and uncertain and absolutely real. She tastes like sugar and nerves and everything I’ve been trying not to want.
She makes a tiny sound—half sigh, half surprise—and I’m gone. My hand cups the back of her neck, her fingers twist in my shirt, and the world narrows to the places where we touch.
Our tongues meet, and suddenly, this feels like my very first kiss. I remember nothing that came before her. Or maybe it’s just the first one that matters. She whimpers into my mouth, and one of my hands drops to her round backside. I squeeze her, pressing our bodies together.
When I finally pull back, she’s blinking up at me, lips flushed, eyes wide.
“Yeah, I’m going to need to do that a few more times, but first I need to check something,” I say.
“My toes curled.”
I grin at her. “Good to know. But the real test.” I reach down, then slide my hand up the impossibly soft skin of her calf, then under her skirt and over her thigh.
Her breathing comes out in strained little puffs, the further I explore.
“Part these thighs, love, let me have my proof.”
She obeys, widening her stance.
I slide my knuckles over the gusset of her panties and feel the tell-tale wetness of her arousal.
“I was wet before the kiss,” she admits.
“And wetter now, I assume?”
She nods in confirmation.
“I want to taste you.” I look into her eyes to gauge her reaction.
Her lips are parted, and she already looks the part of the wanton.
“Hop up on my desk and spread your legs. I’m going to make sure the door is locked so we don’t notify the entire building that we’re possibly violating some health codes.”
She giggles behind me.
I shift my erection in my pants to try to alleviate some of the pressure. When I’m once again in front of her, I cup her cheek and kiss her again because I can’t help myself. Her palms slide up my chest, and fuck, have I ever been touched like this?
I cup her tits over her blouse, and she arches into my hands.
“You know what else you should put on your list?”
“What’s that?”
“These beauties are perfect for fucking.”
She gasps. “That sounds hot.”
I grin at her. “It is hot.” Then I lower myself to my knees. “You’ll need to hold your skirt up and out of the way. Can you do that for me?”
She nods, grips the fabric, and slides it up her thighs.
I finally get a peek at that wet spot on her panties when I spread her legs even further. My mouth waters. I pull the fabric to the side, revealing her cunt.
She’s trimmed neatly, not waxed, and she’s nearly dripping with her need.
“Oh, Addison,” I purr. “That is a beautiful pussy.”
“Oh God,” she whispers.
She nearly levitates off my desk when I swipe my tongue through her wetness.
She’s tangy and sweet, and I already know I’ll never have my fill of her. That thought should be alarming. Should make me back off and run the other direction. Instead, I wrap my arms under her thighs to angle her better. The new position forces her to lean back on one elbow.
Then I bury my face and eat her like it’s my fucking job. Her little mews and sighs and whimpers are giving me life, and my world narrows to my only goal: making this woman come.