Текст книги "The Play"

Автор книги: Karina Halle

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

It’s just after nine when I pull Justine aside and whisper in her ear. “How do you think I did? Be honest.”

She just smiles coyly and runs her fingers over my tie, pulling me close to her. “I think you sold him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he invests.”

I can’t help but flash her a smile. “Good.”

She doesn’t let go of my tie. “Want me to get you a glass of champagne?”

“Nah,” I tell her. “I’m good. Actually, I have to get going.”

Her bottom lip juts out in a pout. “Why?”

“Dogs,” I tell her, tugging at my ear. “I have dogs. If I don’t take them for a walk, they’re going to shit everywhere.”

“When did you get dogs?”

“Yesterday,” I tell her. “I rescued two strays.”

She makes a face. It’s the reaction I thought I’d get. “Strays? You took in two strays and put them in your apartment?”

I shrug. “It’s the least I could do.”

“They might have fleas. Rabies. Who knows what disease?”

“They needed my help.”

She lets go of my tie but tries to look pleasant, giving me a thin smile. “Huh. Well, aren’t you just a giving man.”

“Someone has to be,” I say, an edge creeping into my voice.

“I guess,” she says, and steps away from me. “The world needs more people like you.”

I raise my brows. “Does it?” I can read the insincerity in her voice. It’s the line that people say when they don’t really believe it. It’s what they say in order to make themselves look like they care.

She takes a sip of her champagne and starts looking around for someone better to talk to. Who knew that just mentioning stray dogs would turn her off? If I’d known that, I would have talked about Lionel and the organization from day one. Then again, it wouldn’t have led me here to right now and I still have to do what I can to make sure it goes through.

I give her most charming smile, and from the way she blinks at me, I can tell she’s dazzled by it. I rarely use it, and when it’s sincere, it’s never meant for people like her. “I really want to thank you, Justine,” I tell her, grabbing her wrist delicately. “For inviting me here. This means a lot to me, and to Bram, just to have your father want to do good in a world that needs it. His help is really appreciated. And yours has always been.”

She softens a little bit, but she’s still regarding me with a wariness that wasn’t there before. Gone are the days of footsie under the table and eager hands in the back of a cab.

I lift her hand to my lips and kiss the back of it. “Take care,” I tell her. “And if you don’t mind, I’ll have Bram get in touch with your father.” With my other hand, I show her the business card her father gave me.

“Sure,” she says. “I’ll let him know. Take care, Lachlan.”

And that’s it. Though it was a lot to get through, it’s over now. It’s not quite time to celebrate, not until Bram and Justine’s father talk and work out the kinks, but I have a feeling it’s going to work out. The man was sold on what I was selling him.

I quickly exit the ballroom at the hotel and get into a waiting cab. I should go home to the dogs first, but the reality is they’ve probably already made a mess, so what’s the difference? I might as well tell Bram the good news.

It’s not long before the cab is dropping me off at the Lion. It’s a Monday but it’s still surprisingly busy.

I stride into the noisy, dimly-lit bar and immediately get a lot of looks. It takes me a minute to realize I’m wearing a suit and tie and I stick out like a sore thumb here.

“Look at you!” Linden hollers from a booth in the back. He’s sitting with Bram, Steph, and that fucker James. “Secret agent man, working for M.I. Six!”

I walk over to them and stand at the end of the table, hands jammed into my pockets. “Do you want to hear the good news?” I say to them, rocking back on my heels.

Bram’s eyes widen. “How good?”

I shrug. “Nothing is a done deal. But here.” I toss the business card on the table. “That’s his info. I had a very lengthy conversation with him. He wants to invest.”

“What?!” Bram yells, nearly jumping out of his seat.

I raise my palms. “Don’t get excited, mate. As I said, nothing is certain. But he’s interested. He heard me out. He wants to help. The ball is in your court now.”

Linden looks at his brother. “I think this is a cause to celebrate.” He looks back at me questioningly. “You do think we can celebrate, right?”

“If you want,” I say. “If we’re going on vibes and feelings alone, then I’d say yes.”

Bram lets out a whoop of joy and Linden pats him on the back. James gets up and says he’s grabbing some drinks so I slide into the booth next to Stephanie. She’s being oddly quiet, smiling at Bram and Linden but not quite looking at me.

Of course this in turn makes me want to look at her.

“Where’s Nicola?” I ask. “And Kayla?” I add, as if it were an afterthought.

It wasn’t.

Stephanie looks at Bram. “Well, Nicola is at home because Ava wasn’t feeling well. And Kayla was here…” They exchange a loaded look. Finally Stephanie sighs and turns to me. “Look, Linden told me you were on a date with Justine.”

My head whips around to look at Linden, who shrinks from my gaze.

“And,” Stephanie continues, “I told Kayla that.”

Now I’m staring accusingly at Bram. “You know that wasn’t a date. You practically forced me to do it.”

“I know!” Bram exclaims. “I know. By the time I got here, they’d already told Kayla and she’d left. She was upset.”

I groan and place my head in my hands. “It was just to secure the investment. That’s all.”

“I tried to text her that but she’s not answering me,” Steph says. “The messages aren’t being delivered. She must have turned her phone off.” She briefly puts her hand on my shoulder. “I only told her because she asked where you were and I didn’t want to lie. I know she likes you…I just didn’t think she had it that bad for you.” She pauses. “Honestly, she’ll kill me for saying this, but you’re making her behave like…I think she’s head over heels.”

Hearing that makes me both warm and cold at the same time.

“Did you and Justine…” she starts. “You know…”

I glare at her and she moves an inch away from me. “No, we didn’t. But still.” I get up just in time to see James approaching with a bottle of sparkling wine. “Tell me where she lives,” I say to Steph.

“What? You’re going to go over there?”

“Yes,” I say, bringing out my phone. “What’s her address?”

She tells me and I enter it into my phone. “Thank you,” I tell her, then I turn on my heel and walk off. Bram calls after me but I don’t turn around. Let him celebrate. This is his baby, his project. This is his passion.

I need to go fix mine.

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Kayla

I floated through the entire day, as if on cotton candy clouds. It didn’t matter that I’d only had a few hours of sleep or that my eyes were rimmed with plum colored circles. I didn’t care that it was Monday, that I hate where I work now, that I won’t be joining the ranks of the writers on the other side of the office.

I know I should care about all of that. I know that on Sunday morning it was still a big fat splotch on this new future I had somehow built in my head.

But Lachlan, he’d erased everything. He’d taken over everything in me and had replaced all the shit with…well, I don’t know what. Something to look forward to. Something to look back on.

Fuck, I needed to see him again. He’d said we could do coffee this week, but I didn’t want coffee this week. I wanted him now. I wanted to quit work and just go back to his apartment, show up at his door like they do in the movies, and maul the shit out of him. That kiss was everything and still just the tip of the iceberg. If his lips could leave such an imprint on me, I couldn’t wait to see what else they could do.

I checked my phone obsessively throughout the day, wondering if he would text me. Wondering if I should text him. I lamented that the normal Kayla, the one who had no problems chasing after men, was missing in action. I was scared to hear the word “no.” I was scared to fuck something up before I even had a chance to have it.

On the other hand, I knew he was leaving soon. Very soon. So there wasn’t really anything to fuck up. I just wanted to see him again.

But he didn’t text, and I didn’t either. Nicola and Steph did though, completely freaking out. When my phone finally charged this morning, I had a billion frantic texts from them all pouring in at once. I didn’t want to divulge too much information, so I told them that my phone had died and that we’d rescued some dogs. Neither of them knew what to say to that.

Later, Steph told me to come to the Lion for a drink. And stupid, silly me, I did. Because I thought there might be a chance that Lachlan would be there.

I decided to make myself look extra pretty. Put a few waves in my hair. Contoured up my face. Slicked on liquid liner. I squeezed myself into a snake-print leopard skirt, black high heels, and a black lace top. I looked pretty damn good.

I sashayed my way into the Lion, electric flutters in my stomach, my eyes casing the joint, hoping to see the big, bad Scot somewhere. Steph and Linden were in a booth, but I knew from the moment they spotted me and Steph gave me a hesitant wave that something was off.

I slowed my pace, my fingers anxiously twitching at my side. “Hey,” I said.

“Looking good, Kayla,” Linden commented, and I eyed him suspiciously, wondering if that was the truth or he was just trying to “be nice” like Steph had told us to.

“Thanks.” I looked at Stephanie, but she wasn’t meeting my eyes. “What’s wrong?” I asked her.

“Well, nothing,” she said. She patted the seat beside her. “Sit down. You look pretty. Is there a special occasion?”

I gave her the stinkeye. “Do I normally not look pretty? Why would I need an occasion?” I sat down. “So…” I looked around. “Is Bram here?”

“Not yet,” Linden said.

I stared hopefully at Steph, hoping she would read my mind. She looked down at the cider in her hands instead.

I cleared my throat. “How did you guys like the rest of the concert?” I asked. “I missed the last part...”

“It was good, yeah. Good.” Linden took a swig of his beer.

I sighed and bit the bullet. “Do you guys know if Lachlan is coming here later?”

“I don’t know,” Linden said. A little too quickly.

I turned to Stephanie and punched her lightly on the arm. “Hey, what’s going on? Why are you guys being all weird?”

Steph exchanged a look with Linden and chewed on her lip before facing me.

“You and Lachlan,” she said cautiously. “You guys just kissed last night, right?”

I jerked my head back. “Yeah. What…why does that matter?”

She swallowed thickly and looked at Linden again. “Well, I just wanted to make sure how freaked out you would or wouldn’t get. If you just kissed, then you should be fine with it.”

“Fine with what? What the hell, Stephanie? Just say it.”

“He’s on a date with Justine,” she said, and then quickly downed the rest of her cider.

My heart lurched. Actually lurched, like it was saying goodbye to my chest and moving on out. “What?”

She shrugged. “Linden told me.”

I turned to him, as if it was all his fault. “Bram told me,” he said defensively. “Sorry, Kayla. I’m sure it’s just for business. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Ugh. I wanted to be sick. “How do you know that?”

“She doesn’t seem like his type.”

“Well, neither do I and…” I paused and shook my head. “Fuck. Fuck this shit. I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re not,” Steph said. “It’s just a date.”

“No, I know that,” I told her, rather harshly. “He’s leaving soon, so what’s the difference, right? I’m just such an idiot for caring. Like, Jesus. One kiss and I’m fucking broken-hearted that he’s gone on some date. Who is this Kayla? I don’t like her.”

“Hey,” Steph said, putting her hand on my shoulder and shaking me. “It’s okay to care, you know. I’ve never seen you care before. Maybe it’s a good thing…to know what you want in the future.”

I shrugged away from her. In that moment I didn’t want to hear any of that crap. “But what I want is now on a date with some rich bitch he’s been on a few dates with before. I just…ugh. Whatever. I’m out of here.”

I angrily slid out of the booth and got to my feet. I left the bar in a cloud of defeat and went straight back home. I kept berating myself over and over again for the feelings that were moving through me like a swarm of hornets.

This was exactly what I didn’t want. This was why I decided to shun off men. I thought that by avoiding sex I could avoid disappointment, but I hadn’t even had the chance to fuck him yet, and here I was, disappointed as hell.

So now I’m in my apartment, curled up on the couch with a few glasses of wine in me. I’m “Netflix and chilling” without having anyone to chill with. The wine is dulling the anger, but not that weird sickly feeling in my chest. I go through nearly an entire season of New Girl, hoping Schmidt and Nick will make me laugh, but finding myself getting sadder. More pathetic.

This is bullshit.

I lie back on the couch and stare at the ceiling. I want to rewind the last few weeks and pretend I never went to the Lion that one night, that I’d never seen Lachlan McGregor because before that, I was doing fucking fine. Then I had to see his goddamn stupid beautiful face and become an obsessive, desperate horndog. How could this man, how could any man, do this to me, render me so bare and vulnerable? That was never part of the plan. I wanted to get under his skin, not the other way around. I was supposed to come out of this game on top, fighting through the challenge of it all and getting what I wanted.

I was supposed to be the player here.

I want to pull up the edges of my black heart and pull it around me like a blanket. From now on, the moment I feel myself being lured by anything other than the physical, I’m out. I’m sticking to my damn vow, and if it ever does break one day, it’s for just sex and nothing more. Anything more than sex isn’t Kayla friendly.

I start to drift off, feeling better about my new plan, my new resolve. I want the dreams to take me away and tomorrow I’ll start a new me. The old me.

The apartment buzzer goes off, making me jolt. I inhale sharply and look at my phone for the time, but I turned it off a while ago, not wanting to be disturbed. It’s probably Steph coming to check up on me. I could have used her earlier in the night when I was a ball of rage, ready to bitch and ramble on, but now I am more subdued, sleepy, and kind of drunk, and not in the mood to talk about anything.

I walk over to the buzzer and press the button.

“Steph?”

“Uh, no,” says the deep Scottish brogue over the speaker. “It’s not.”

I freeze. My heart hammers.

Oh shit. Lachlan?

“Hello?” he says again. “Kayla? Can I please speak with you?”

No, no, no. Definitely not. Think of your plan, the new old you, I tell myself.

But I still press the button to let him in.

Fuck.

I look down at what I’m wearing. The fucking t-shirt he lent me and nothing else.

Oh god. I need to change. I need to fix my face, my hair. I need to not let him in.

But seconds later he’s knocking at the door.

I breathe in deeply, trying not to let those dumbass, unwanted, unwarranted emotions get the best of me. Be cool, girl, I tell myself. Like ice.

I slide the chain across and open the door.

Lachlan is standing there. In a fucking suit and tie. Hair slicked back, just enough stubble on that angular jaw. Perma-frown. Towering over me like some well-dressed god.

Oh my god. I am so doomed.

“Just come from a wedding?” I attempt a joke. My mouth is drier than a desert.

“Can I come in?” he asks, his shoulders hunched up. “Please?”

Be cool, be cool.

“Sure,” I say, opening the door wider with a shrug, pretending I’m not hurt, not mad, and definitely not wearing just his t-shirt.

He walks past me and all I want to do is breathe in his scent. Well, that’s not all I want to do.

I shut the door behind him, resting my forehead briefly on it and gathering courage before turning around to face him.

He’s standing in the middle of the room, staring right at me. Jesus. He’s so beautiful to look at it almost hurts. It does hurt.

“I need to explain something.”

I cross my arms. “What?”

“I know what Stephanie told you,” he says. “About me and Justine.”

I shrug, trying to play it off. “Oh well, that’s cool.”

His frown deepens. “I heard you were upset.”

I give him a tight smile. “I don’t get upset,” I tell him and walk over to the kitchen to busy myself with something.

“Yes, you do,” he says, eyes following me. “I’ve seen you get upset. I know your voice when you’re upset.”

I want to challenge him, to tell him that he doesn’t know me at all. But I don’t want that. I want him to know me. I want him to think he does.

“And so I’m upset now?” I say. “Why?”

He chews on his lower lip for a second and finally looks away. “Because. You want me.”

I can’t help but let out a shocked laugh. Obviously it’s true, but I can’t believe he has the audacity to just say it so bluntly.

His eyes slide to me again, feverish and hard. “Don’t you?”

Suddenly it’s not so funny anymore. I lean against the counter, my hands gripping the edge while my mind tries to think of what to say, how to possibly answer that. Finally I tell the truth. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “So?”

“So,” he says, voice low, almost delicate, “last night was something I’ve needed…for a long time. It may have been just a walk in the park and a kiss to you, love, but to me…it was far more. And I want to know if it was more to you.”

I can only stare back at him, locked in the intensity of his gaze. He’s looking at me like he’s peeling back the layers, determined to get to the core.

My throat is dry and my heart pounds with excitement and anxiety. What is he doing? What am I doing? There is so much space between us, and I don’t know how to bridge the gap or if I want him to, because if it happens it’s going to be so much more than I can handle.

“You’re leaving on Sunday,” I tell him. “That’s less than a week.”

“So?” he says. “What does that have to do with anything?”

I cock my head. “It means…well, what can happen between now and then?”

“I can fuck your brains out,” he says gruffly. “That’s what can happen.”

Holy shit.

Did he seriously just say he could fuck my brains out? I stare at him with wide eyes, dumbfounded and turned on in an instant. It’s hard to swallow. It’s hard to think. “Uh…”

“But before I do,” he says, starting to loosen his tie. He takes a step forward. Oh god. “I need you to know that tonight I was helping Bram. Justine was never anything other than a favor, and no, I didn’t fuck her. Not even close. Whatever it was though, it’s done. And for the next week, the only thing on my radar is you.” He takes another step toward me, pulling off his tie and tossing it at my feet. “On this counter, in your bed, against the wall. Whatever way I can.”

Oh Jesus.

My legs start to tremble and I tightly grip the edge of the counter. I’ve wanted this more than anything, and now that it’s slowly walking toward me, like I’m the prey, I’ve turned into a mute chicken shit. It was so different when I was chasing him. Now that he wants me, he actually wants me…I’m terrified that I won’t survive it.

He’s only a foot away and I can feel the heat of his presence as he begins to eclipse me. He shrugs off his suit jacket and tosses it on the counter, his eyes never leaving my body. My skin smolders under his gaze as he slowly looks me up and down. “You’re wearing my shirt,” he says, his voice soft and rough at the same time.

He reaches out, grabbing the end of it, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. He’s so close now. I’m still a statue made of throbbing blood and a wildly beating heart, and I can’t move an inch. I can’t do anything but watch him, every movement, every breath, every look. He’s so physical, immense—he’s become my world.

His eyes drift lower. He leans down into me, his mouth at my ear, his hands moving down my thighs. “Another no pants party?” he murmurs. I shiver, goosebumps from his breath and the bass of his voice. His large, warm palms trail back up my bare skin, lifting up my shirt and skimming over the lace of my underwear.

“Depends what you mean by pants,” I manage to say.

His lips close gently around my earlobe, teeth razing my skin, the heat from his breath lighting firecrackers down the expanse of my neck. His fingers curl around the edge of my underwear, pulling them down my hips, lifting me forward slightly so he can get them over my ass. I’m between both of his hot hands and it makes me realize how damned small I am compared to him.

My underwear falls down to my knees, then down to the floor, and I’m naked except for the shirt. He licks his lips and I want to shove those fucking lips down between my legs and hold him there until I come. I swear it won’t take long.

His grip on my hips intensifies. He lifts me up effortlessly, placing my bare ass on the cold counter, and moves forward between my legs, my underwear dangling from one foot.

He places his beautiful hands on either side of my face, holding me in place, his nostrils flaring as he breathes in hard. It’s as if he’s trying to restrain himself, and I want him to let go and unleash it all on me, everything that he has. The furrow between his brows only deepens as he tries to drink me in with his eyes. I’m holding my breath, wanting so much, and he keeps searching me, trying to read me.

Just fucking take me, I want to say. Read this.

My mouth parts.

His eyes drop to my lips.

His gaze burns.

Carnal.

Predatory.

Unwavering.

It’s the flash of light before the bomb hits.

Then it hits.

He pulls my face forward and his lips crash against mine, fevered, crazed and wild. His hands sink into my hair and my hands fumble for the buttons on his shirt. Our mouths are lost to each other in a race, a battle, where both of us win. It’s breathless, desperate. This kiss is nothing like the other kiss—it’s pure molten heat, wet lips and hard pressure, like we’re creating a diamond.

My toes curl.

My heart somersaults.

I’m lost to him.

I’m drowning under the onslaught of his tongue, each hot, torrid stroke inside my mouth making me absolutely drenched.

I wrap my legs around his waist, greedy and eager, and I pull him to me. We both moan into each other’s mouths. He’s as hard as cement and pressing against me in all the right places. With just the slightest movement, the fabric of his pants brushes over my clit and I almost lose my mind.

One hand makes a fist in my hair, tugging at it and making me shiver, while his lips bruise me, our mouths messy and hard, teeth hitting teeth in our uncontrollable need to devour each another.

I’m absolutely rabid for this beautiful man. With his white shirt unbuttoned, I drag my nails over the hard planes of his chest, over the tuft of hair and the expanse of inked art. I reach down to the waistband of his pants and undo the button, while his mouth goes for my neck again, sucking, biting, and I throw my head back to give him better access.

I deftly undo the button and zip down his fly before sliding my hand over his hardness. Holy fuck. He does go commando. The long, heated length of him pulses beneath my palm and he lets out a low, rough growl that vibrates down my spine.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, breathing hard into my neck. “I’m already going to explode.”

“That makes two of us,” I tell him. He’s so fucking huge, and just touching his cock is bringing me to the edge. I don’t know how I’ll survive it inside of me but I’m dying to try.

I wrap my hands around firmer and free it from his pants. I curl forward, glancing down to see. He grows harder, firmer in my hands, the tip dark, flushed, and gleaming. Oh god, I just want to put it in my mouth, all of it, sucking, tasting every inch of him.

At the same time I want him deep inside of me, as far as I can take him, even though he could break me in two.

What a fucking predicament.

I start stroking him, running the precum over his silky hot ridge, pausing at the round and full tip, before going back down again, one hand going further, down over his balls. Lachlan’s got a fair amount of hair on his arms, chest, and treasure trail, so thank god for manscaping. I gently cup his balls in my hand and he shudders against me.

“Oh love,” he says, raspy, sucking in his breath. “Don’t ruin me just yet.”

I bite my lip and smile at the effect I have on him. I want to ruin him and I want him to ruin me. The need, the power, is intoxicating.

He pulls back for a second, watching with a delirious look in his hooded eyes as my hands work him up and down. His scrapes his teeth over his lower lip then slowly looks up at me. “You’ll have to stop that or I’m going to come right here and now,” he warns.

I pause and grip his gorgeous cock tighter. His eyes roll back in his head, and the muscles in his thick neck are corded, straining. “Make me,” I tease.

He grunts and moves back into me, ripping the shirt over my head, causing me to let go. My nipples are as hard as pebbles, and he cups my breast, licking a path to the center. He takes one in his mouth and I’m swept away by the warmth, by the fire-laced nerves that radiate out from me.

“Oh god,” I cry out softly.

He makes a noise of agreement against my breast, causing more nerves to incinerate. He slips his hand below, sliding it over my clit which is slick as sin.

“You’re fucking soaked” he says huskily before taking my nipple between his teeth and pulling slightly. “I knew you’d have a greedy little pussy.”

I moan, trying to tell him that it was pretty obvious that I did, but my words are ripped from my mouth as he pushes one big finger inside of me, the roughness igniting my screamingly sensitive skin. The heavy penetration seems to roll through me and I automatically jerk my hips forward, bringing his finger further inside.

He makes a low, guttural sound and pulls out slowly before adding another finger. I bite my lip to keep from yelling his name as he expertly slides his fingers over the swollen bundle of nerves that threatens to destroy me from the inside out.

“Fuck,” I moan, my mouth open and gasping as my senses are nearly blinded.

“That’s coming,” he says before flicking my nipple with his tongue. “And so are you.” He pulls his fingers out and then pushes three in and I’m breathless and shaking. Crazed. His fingers are so thick, it’s nearly unbearable. It’s the size of an average cock, and from the way he plunges them in and out, he works them like one, too.

His thumb brushes over my clit and I’m seconds from losing my mind, from losing everything.

“Wait,” I cry out desperately. “Please. Not yet, not yet. I want to come around your cock. I want you to feel me squeeze you as I come.”

He pauses and lifts his thumb away. He takes his mouth away from my breast, his beard wet with moisture as his heavy eyes gaze at me. “I plan on making you come all night long, love.”

I’m breathing hard, my hand going to the back of his thick neck that’s already damp with sweat. “The first time I want you inside me. As deep and hard and fast as you can go. Fuck me into oblivion. Then make me come again and again and again after that.”

“So fucking greedy,” he mutters. He shakes his head slightly, a hint of a smile on his glistening lips. “You’re going to bring me to my knees, aren’t you, gorgeous?”

“I’ll be on my knees first,” I say, leaning forward and grabbing his lower lip between my teeth and tugging. “I’m going to put your massive, swollen cock in my mouth and suck you off until you don’t know your own name.”

“Jesus,” he curses roughly, the heat in his green eyes growing hotter. “Fucking little dirty talker you are.”

I bring my mouth to the soft spot where his jaw meets his neck, the stubble brushing against my bruised lips. “Give me dirty and I’ll keep talking.”

“You may regret saying that,” he says between moans as I suck at his neck. “I’ve got a lot to give.”

It occurs to me that he’s talking far more now than he was before. If my strong, silent beast turns into a filthy blabbermouth in the bedroom, there will be no complaints from me.

He pulls back slightly and reaches into his pocket, his pants slung low on his hips, his throbbing cock beating against me in time with his heart. He pulls out a condom. The foil crinkles as he tears it open, and for a moment I wonder if he’d always planned to see me tonight.

I watch eagerly, holding my breath as he slides the sheath on, loving the ease in which he handles himself. His pants fall to his ankles and he positions his tip against my wetness, hesitating, teasing. He grins at me, biting his lip, sly eyes appraising me, as he rubs his engorged head up and down over my swollen skin.

“Stop being a fucking tease,” I whimper, my hands going around the hard lines of his waist, grabbing onto his ass. God, it’s just how I thought it would feel—firm, hard, round, and filled with power waiting to be unleased. I press my palms against his skin and pull him toward me, his cheeks bunched beneath my hands.

My world opens.

With a hiss, he pushes his cock into me with one sharp, searing movement. If I wasn’t so fucking wet, there is no way I’d be able to accommodate him, and even now I feel so deliciously full, I might burst.

“Oh love,” he says with a raspy groan. “Fuck.”

I can only gasp, feeling my toes curl as he slides in further.

It’s better than I imagined.

It’s perfect.

He’s perfect.

With each thrust, his cock drawing in and out, I move backward across the counter. He puts his palm behind my head, firmly holding me in place, allowing him to go deeper and deeper and deeper.

My mind is shattering, I am shattering, the sensation of having him so joined to me, so thick and thorough and all-encompassing, takes over my every thought. I am just feeling and raw, desperate with need. And I want more. So much more.

I’m a greedy, greedy girl.

I grab hold of his biceps, hard as concrete slabs, as he works me in and out. I hold him, still in awe, desperate to hold him close to me. This man, this beast, for now is all mine, and I’m going to have to work hard to be worthy of this.

His mouth joins with mine, moving together in deep, searing kisses in a rhythm that his body matches as he thrusts his hips forward, his cock driving deeper and deeper inside. Every nerve in my body is being pulled inward, swirling into a hard knot, live wires needing the slightest hair trigger to set me free. Each deep shove of his body threatens to undo me.