The summer heat hits me as we exit the building, but it’s quickly replaced by the cool air in the back of Oz’s limo. He shuts the door and walks around, climbing in on the other side, and never once have I given him permission to do this.
His scent assaults me, and suddenly the two small glasses of wine I had are making me dizzy with lust. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. He gets in, and the sight of him so close to me makes me weak. God, I hate that I’m not strong enough to tell him no, because if he touches me, I’ll dissolve. Everything I’ve said about waiting and talking and wanting to know the truth will go right out the window. And he knows it.
“Oz.” I stop. I don’t know what I’m going to say. Apologize for sneaking away from him? Beg him to hold me? Beg him not to?
He shakes his head and I stop the words. I know they’re useless when it comes to him. He crooks his finger at me to come to his lap, and like the slave I am, I go.
I crawl onto him, sitting with my legs together and my ass pressed against his erection.
“Did you drink tonight?” he asks, looking down at my mouth.
I nod, knowing his meaning. We’ve had sex. Unprotected sex. And this could very well mean I’m carrying a baby. I know where his train of thought is going, so I try to put him at ease.
“Two small glasses.”
He nods, and then runs his hand down my cheek. “No more. Not until we know for sure.”
His words are whispered in the dark, and if I close my eyes, I can almost pretend I don’t hear them. But I do, and I know that I’ll give him what he wants. Like I always do. I’ve been fighting a losing battle. As much as I pretend to hate how overbearing he can be, a part of me loves it, too. My rational brain tells me all these things aren’t okay, but deep down I know I’m only lying to myself. When I think of all the things he’s done for me, and how he’d do anything and everything to have me, I love it.
His big hands, which could nearly span my waist, rub up and down my back. The air in the limo grows thick with desire. I need to talk to him, but when his hands are on me, I can’t form a coherent sentence, let alone stop the tidal wave of need that is about to crash on me. If he kisses me, I’ll beg him to take me right here on the floor. That’s how much I need him right now. I’ve gone too long, and I’m a drug addict coming off the wagon and looking for a fix.
“Oz.” His name is nearly a moan as he pulls me closer. My voice is pleading, and he knows he’s got me right where he wants me.
“Shhh.”
His sapphires look my body up and down, devouring me every inch of the way. He stares at my neck, and he reaches over and grabs something. He pulls out the orange linen pocket square from his dark gray suit and dips it into a glass of water he has sitting on the side bar. Then he proceeds to wipe my neck, where Eric put his mouth.
He doesn’t say a word as he cleans me, and then throws the linen to the floor in near disgust.
The next thing I know his mouth is on me in the same spot, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin and his full lips sucking me into his mouth. He’s angry that someone else touched me, so he has to cover it up with his own touch. In a weird, twisted way, I understand it. And I welcome it.
I cling to him as he assaults my neck. Moaning into the quiet of the limo is all I can do as I take what he gives me. His hand runs between my legs, and the heel of his palm grinds against my panty-covered pussy. I shudder against the feeling, needing him. He puts more pressure in the most perfect place and I grind my hips against him while his mouth devours my neck.
“Oh, God,” I gasp, nearing a climax I’m not prepared for. It’s been too long since he’s really touched me. A wave of emotions floods me. The building pleasure is close, and I dig my nails into his suit jacket to try to keep it from happening, or to try to pull it closer. I have no idea which. But as he kneads his palm against me, he bites my neck and I come apart in his arms.
I cry out as the pleasure of my orgasm liquefies my bones, and I’m left a wrung-out heap of warmth in his arms. What he does to me is too good, and I won’t ever be able to get enough. Even now, as my climax gives its last pulse and soaks my underwear through, I’m already thinking about how many more he can give me before I pass out.
Before I realize what’s happening, Oz is carrying me out of the limo and into my building. Well, our building. I try not to blush as the night doorman waves at us and Oz nods to him.
When we get to the elevator, I expect him to put me down, but he doesn’t. He walks in and stands there, cradling me in his arms.
“I don’t suppose you’re taking me to the third floor?” I ask, looking up at him through my lashes.