Chapter 24 Whitney
Whitney
Theo’s eyes flare as the words roll off my tongue before I can stop them.
He looks a little surprised, but not upset.
He must like me calling him sir. His large hands wrap around my waist, pulling me off of his lap and guiding me to stand before him.
He remains in his chair, elegantly crosses one leg, and rests his elbow against his knee.
He rubs the edge of his jaw and arches one of his dark brows.
“Close the door.”
Need travels down my spine at his deep timbre, and I do what he says. We’re the only ones in his home tonight, but the action gives our little scene an extra level of heat with the entendre that we’re doing something we shouldn’t.
As soon as the door is closed, Theo pushes himself away from his desk and stands. He walks around the frame of his workspace and leans against the front edge, crossing his arms over his chest.
I’m still standing by the door, my hands behind my back now as I wait for what he’s going to say next.
We seem to be eying each other intently.
The room is so quiet I can hear him breathing from all the way across the room.
He looks calm and steady—like a man in control.
It does things to me that I never thought were possible, and I feel the center of my thighs flare to life.
My body thrums with anticipation. I want him to ask me to come to him. I want him to take me in his arms and tell me that he wants me just as badly as I want him. I want him to bend me over this desk and have his wicked way with me.
It doesn’t seem to matter that we’re in his office at home rather than at Nexus. I still seem to get off on this dynamic—even if it’s wrong—and I don’t know if I’ll ever get sick of it.
We stay like that, on opposite sides of the room, the only noise the sound of our breathing and my blood rushing through my ears.
Slowly, like an animal stalking its prey, Theo begins to walk toward me.
Every step he takes sets me further on edge in the best way.
I’m hyper-aware of where he is in relation to me.
The hair on my arms raises once he steps into my space, and I tilt my head up, my lips parting with a gasp when I catch sight of his eyes.
His pupils are blown wide, desire written all over his expression.
He’s staring at me again in that way that makes me feel seen, coveted, craved.
It’s a feeling I don’t ever want to end.
I want him to kiss me, to close the distance between us and ravage my mouth, staking his claim. But he doesn’t.
“Theo,” I gasp his name in surprise when he falls to his knees in front of me.
He looks up at me from under his dark lashes and gives me a wicked grin. His fingers trail up the spanse of my leg, sliding over the smooth skin of my thigh until he reaches the hem of my skirt. “Yeah, baby?”
Those fingers dip under my skirt, and my mind swirls. Leaning my head back, I cover my mouth with my hand so my moan doesn’t echo throughout the whole house—which is a ridiculous notion, given that we’re the only ones here.
Theo catches onto that fact and reaches one hand up to grab my forearm. When I look down at him in question, he gives me a sinful grin. “Don’t hold back; I want to hear every moan from those pretty lips.”
Wasting no more time, Theo removes any potential barrier between him and my center. When I’m bare to him, his hand trails up the curve of my calf and lifts the leg, hooking it over his shoulder and spreading me wide for his pleasure.
I can’t find it inside of me to be embarrassed by the compromising position he has me in. He doesn’t give me a chance before he’s diving in and licking me from the bottom of my slit to the top, paying special attention to the small bundle of nerves at the top of my sex.
He continues on this way until my legs are trembling, and my hands are clenched so tightly I suspect I’ll see nail marks on my palms. Theo draws me higher and higher up the ladder of pleasure until I’m not sure I can hold on any longer.
With my hands threaded in my hair, his eyes watch my every move, gauging where I’m at and adjusting his speed or his pressure accordingly.
Finally, I’m ready to explode when he removes himself from my pussy. I look down at him in frustration, and my breath hitches. The sight of him on his knees before me makes me feel powerful and cherished.
“Okay, Whitney, I’m going to count you down from three,” Theo says before flattening his tongue over my center. “Down from three, and then you’re going to come all over my face, do you understand?”
I whimper in response to what he’s suggesting. He smiles and then resumes his delicious torture.
“Three.”
His tongue enters me and swirls around, sending white-hot sparks of desire down to my toes.
“Two.”
With his tongue still performing its dirty task, he raises one hand and circles my clit with his fingers until my knees start to shake. I lean heavily against the wall to hold myself up.
“One.”
Simultaneously, he thrusts his tongue inside of me and pinches my clit. I see stars as I plummet over the edge of my climax. Theo doesn’t stop, continuing to run his tongue over and through my folds, lapping up every bit of my release.
When, finally, the tremors have stopped rolling through my body at an ungodly pace, Theo stands and cups my face before pressing his lips to mine. I moan, tasting myself over his mouth and loving every second of it.
He pulls away and leans his forehead on mine. His eyes are still crazed with need, and I know he’s only just started with me.
“I need to be inside of you. How do you want it, baby?” he asks before he swirls his tongue over me again.
I open my mouth to tell him exactly how I want it, but I snap my jaw shut before I manage to say anything. Theo’s eyes narrow, and he nips at my bottom lip in mock punishment. “Don’t be shy, tell me.”
I close my eyes and whisper exactly what I’ve been needing. “I want you to bend me over your desk.”
Peeking through one eye, I see Theo smirk at me. He’s enjoying this way too much. “Yeah? I think that can be arranged.”
And it is.
Theo does exactly what I ask of him and clears off a space for me over his desk. Making sure I’m still okay with the scenario at every opportunity, he bends me over the cool, oak furniture and then slides deep inside of me.
He takes me hard, and I love every second of it. Drunk on him and drunk on the sensations he knows how to give my body. He brings us both a pleasure I never thought I’d get to experience with anyone.
Later that night, we’re lying in his bed, naked and fully sated.
After we finished playing in his office, he scooped me up into his arms, bringing me into his bathroom.
He turned on the shower to a nice warm temperature and washed every inch of my body before trailing kisses over every dip and crevice.
Then, he carried me over to his big fluffy bed, wrapping me up in his arms and holding me close.
My fingers trace over the left side of his chest. His heart is beating, strong and true, as I lay my palm flat against him, feeling the rhythmic beat. I’m resting my head against his shoulder, and his right arm is wrapped under my neck, his fingers threading in my hair and rubbing my scalp gently.
I’m feeling woozy, satisfied, and blissful. Maybe that’s why I ask the question before I have a chance to really think it over.
“Have you ever been in love?”
Theo’s hands freeze against my head the second the inquiry passes through my lips. I squeeze my eyes shut, instantly regretting everything. Slowly, his hand regains its motion, and he breathes in deeply through his nose.
“I once thought I was, but I don’t think that’s what it was,” he says. I want to press him for more, but if he wanted to share, I’m sure he would’ve said more about it. “Have you?”
I shake my head against his shoulder. “I don’t think so. I guess I’m the same. I might have thought I was in love, but then—”
I stop my train of thought, not wanting to go too far into the past right now. Not when I’m here with him.
He hums and turns his head to press his lips against his forehead. “What’s on your mind?”
I feel immature and childish for this line of thought. Not to mention the inappropriateness, given how short of a time we’ve known each other. I shouldn’t be thinking along these lines just yet. “I just—I wonder how you’re supposed to know when it’s real.”
“I think that’s going to be different for every person.”
My mind flashes to the little notebook I have at the bottom of my work bag with my perfect man list. I wonder if there are other people out there who do the same thing—or maybe something similar. For a moment, I’m tempted to bring it up to Theo, but I chicken out.
What would he think? Would he be mad, or would he laugh it off before kissing me senselessly until I can no longer remember any type of list?
“I think a lot of it has to do with trust,” he continues, unaware of the back-and-forth going on in my mind. “Love takes a lot of trust in another person. Trust that they’re going to cherish and protect the vulnerable side of you that is capable of love.”
I blink a few times, letting his words sink in and surround me.
A part of me is surprised that that’s what he said first, yet another part of me is not surprised in the slightest. Sitting up from my position, I stare down into his warm eyes, searching for something.
“I trust you,” I whisper, thinking back to my revelation in the aftermath of finding out about Mr. Peterson.
His lips curve into a smile, and he leans up to give me a gentle kiss. “I trust you too.”
“That means a lot to me,” I say to him. I wonder if Theo can tell by the way that I look at him just how much it means.
With this admission, a tiny voice in my head reminds me that I’m keeping a secret from him too.
The thought of the pink, leather notebook, containing a list with his name on it flashes through my mind.
I shove it down, knowing I’ll have to tell him but choosing to save it for a later time.
His eyes soften, and my heart aches as he runs his hand over my hair. “Me too.” He urges forward and presses a kiss to my forehead before pulling back and giving me a small smile. “You should get some sleep. I don’t want you to feel worn out tomorrow.”
“Yeah, don’t want anyone else knowing you fucked me within an inch of my life tonight,” I tease.
He gasps mockingly. “Wow, those are some dirty words coming out of that mouth.”
I giggle as he rolls over onto his side, facing me. His arm is still wrapped tightly around my waist, his fingers drawing patterns against my lower back.
“I could get used to this,” he says as his heavy eyelids close.
“What?”
“You being the very last thing I see at night and the very first thing in the morning.” He peeks one eye open at me to see my reaction.
I’m sure my cheeks heat up and I tease, “Isn’t that romantic?”
“Yeah, I thought you’d like that one.” Now Theo yawns, and as if picking up on his lead, I yawn, too. “Alright, now we actually need to get some sleep.”
He doesn’t need to tell me again. Succumbing to the delicious exhaustion of my body and the warm presence of him next to me, I barely make out the sound of his whispered ‘goodnight’ before I slide into a deep sleep.