35. Zinnia
ZINNIA
N ick’s lips feel like home as they meet mine, and even though I know better than to kiss my professor—on campus, no less—it doesn’t stop me.
“Fuck, I missed you,” I say, fingers already digging into the walnut waves of his hair. He tosses his glasses onto the shelf behind me, his mouth on mine again a split second later, like he couldn’t bear us to be apart any longer.
“I haven’t slept in days ,” he rasps, hands skating down my back, my waist, over my hips. “I missed you too much. Every goddamn inch of you.” I whimper as he grips my ass, dragging me against his growing erection.
God, we should stop. We know better, both of us. Nick’s career is at stake here, and that matters to me a lot.
But it’s killed me to be away from him. I’ve hardly slept either, lying awake to stare at that crack in the ceiling, missing Nick in ways I didn’t know were possible.
The truth is, I had been wondering if staying in the city was a mistake, but I only wondered that because I couldn’t see him.
Because I was in pain. Seeing Nick now, there’s no question in my mind.
I’ve moved on from many people in my life, but I’ve never felt the deep, gnawing ache I do when Nick and I are apart. I need this man more than anything.
And I need him now.
I shove his jacket over his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and slide my hands up his chest, skin warm through his shirt.
He’s wearing his tie, and I use it to tug him closer so I can wrap one leg around his hip, rocking against his growing hardness.
I half expect him to push me away, to put a stop to this, but he looks dazed as he kisses his way up my neck, as he backs me into the low filing cabinet.
I jump on top of it, winding both legs around his waist, and he groans, dropping his forehead to mine.
“It was torture being away from you, honey.”
“I know,” I whisper, stroking his jaw. “Because it was torture for me too.”
His denim-blue eyes move between mine, wild and desperate. “I need you, Zinnia. I need you so badly I could weep.”
Fuck.
I tug his lips back to mine, tongue sweeping hungrily into his mouth, hands already on his belt to free his erection. He’s so hard, and I spit into my hand, stroking him urgently. I watch in the dim light as his eyes roll back, hips rocking into my palm, his breath growing erratic.
“Fuck,” he chokes out. “Honey.”
I drag my mouth along his jaw, relishing the scratch of his beard on my lips, his fresh, masculine scent. His cock is hot and throbbing in my hand, and I rub my thumb over the tip, loving the way he’s wet there. The proof of how much he needs me.
He shoves my skirt up, fingers slipping past the edge of my panties to push into me. My back arches as his fingers curl inside me, rough and demanding, wet fire burning between my thighs.
“Yes,” I breathe, but it’s not nearly enough. I need his cock. I need to be full with him.
Nick yanks my top down, letting my breasts spill out.
He buries his face in them, kissing, licking, sucking, frantic in his need.
I’ve never seen him so frenzied—so uninhibited—and it makes me wetter than ever.
He notices the slickness coating the inside of my thighs, his mouth going slack as his fingers plunge deeper.
“Holy… I’ve never felt you so wet.”
I moan, hips canting helplessly into his hand. “I’ve never needed you this much.”
“ Fuck .”
His eyes press closed, and he kisses me again, a wet, messy kiss of teeth and tongue, his breath hot on my neck as he presses close. He’s leaking into my palm now, and I use it to stroke, to draw a rough groan from his throat.
“Please,” he rasps. “Please, honey. I need to be inside you.”
I draw back to gaze at him in the light of the projector, eyes dark and hooded, cheeks flushed pink. He’s never looked more wrecked, more undone, and my heart squeezes tight at the sight.
“Please, Zinnia,” he begs again, as if I might actually deny him.
As if I could ever say no to this man.
I guide him to my entrance, dragging the tip of him through my wetness. His legs shake, and he braces himself on the edge of the filing cabinet, gaze locked on where we meet.
“I could come just from this,” he grits out, jaw tense.
I whimper, rubbing the head of him on my clit, his dick so hard the tip feels hot enough to burn. As much as it would turn me on to watch him paint me with his cum, I need him inside me.
I slide my hands around to grip his ass, and his eyes lock with mine, dust motes swirling between us in the dim light as he finally sinks inside me. His mouth falls open, and when he’s buried to the hilt, we both pause, reveling in finally being joined again.
The first thrust sends heat rushing into every corner of my body. I know he feels the same, because his hands come to my hips, gripping hard enough to bruise. Good. I want him to mark me. I want everyone to know I’m his.
I want things I’ve never wanted before.
“Nick,” I whisper, fingers twining in his hair.
“I know,” he rasps, breath hot as he kisses my neck, sucking on the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing and nipping at me. I hold his head there, pressing, and he bites down harder, the pain only heightening the pleasure.
“Yes,” I sob. “Leave a mark on me.”
“ Fuck . Honey.”
He grabs my thighs, leaning over me until my back hits the wall behind, and drives in deep. The filing cabinet creaks under us, but he doesn’t stop. It seems like nothing would stop him now.
“I can’t stay away any longer,” he says, voice a raw scrape in my ear. “I won’t.”
I clench around him, pleasure building from both his touch and his words. That he missed me as much as I missed him. That he feels this as intensely as I do.
“I need you in my bed.”
He thrusts hard, hitting that spot deep inside, the one that makes the pleasure crest. I moan, throwing my head back, emotion rising hot inside me.
“In my life.” His words come out choked, as if they’re stuck in his throat.
“I need that too,” I say hoarsely, chest aching as he kisses me hard, arms banding around my back.
“I’d do anything for you, honey.”
My heart presses against my ribs, and I hold him to me, taking every one of his brutal thrusts. I’ve never felt so raw, ripped open by Nick’s words.
“I feel the same,” I sob, burying my face in his neck. In that perfect warm spot I can’t imagine living without.
“I need you to come,” he rasps, fingers snaking between my legs to stroke my clit in rough circles. “I need to feel my girl come.”
His girl .
He draws back to meet my gaze, eyes dark and glassy as he pumps into me, thumb relentless on my clit. He wants to watch me. He wants to see me fall apart for him.
And that’s all it takes. Pleasure combusts in my core, radiating out from head to toe. I quake under his touch, pulling him deeper inside me, breathless and dissolving as my orgasm rockets through me.
“Oh, fuck,” Nick grunts, hips stuttering as he spills into me, eyes hot and burning, never once leaving mine.
We stare at each other, breaths rapid and uneven.
He gives me a slow, lingering kiss, then peels me off the filing cabinet, turning away.
For one awful moment I think it’s because he can’t look at me, because he said so many vulnerable things, things he didn’t mean to, but when he turns back with a crumpled tissue from his jacket pocket, I realize what he’s doing.
He always does that. Always makes sure to care for me after. My heart turns to mush.
“Thank you.” I watch him kneel in front of me to clean between my thighs. Seeing him on his knees gives me the courage to ask, “Am I really your girl?”
Nick frowns as he rises, like he can’t understand the question. “Fuck yes.”
My heart backflips in my chest. I watch him stuff the tissue into his pocket and push his glasses back up his nose. Gran called him my boyfriend. What do I call him?
“I want…” An awkward laugh slips out of me. “Maybe this is silly, but I want you to be my boyfriend, Nick. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and I want it to be you.”
He gazes at me tenderly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I want that too. That’s…” His exhale ghosts across my lips. “That’s all I want.”
I stare at him, handsome features illuminated by the projector, the image of Venus still on the wall behind us. Hearing those words means everything to me, and yet…
“But how…” I begin, unable to finish the words. As if I don’t want him to realize how impossible this is.
He releases an agonized breath. “I don’t know,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze returns to mine, and he softens, taking my hands. “But I meant what I said, Zinnia. Every word.”
“You want me in your bed?”
He nods without hesitation. “I need you there. If you want to be there.”
“Yes,” I breathe, fingers tightening in his.
“Then I’ll give you a key to my apartment.”
A key . I’ve never had a key to a boyfriend’s place before.
I’m still getting used to the boyfriend part.
“I don’t know how we’ll make this work, honey,” Nick repeats, stroking his thumb across my cheek. “I just know that I have to try.”