For 100 Days(90)

I don’t want to consider how he actually manages to cross the city so quickly, but, true to his word, Nick is standing outside the fifth floor apartment door in record time. I make good on my promise too, opening the door to him naked and utterly shameless.

He steps inside, looking urbane and handsome in his dark gray suit and white business shirt. His attire may be boardroom sophisticated, but the look in his stormy blue eyes is pure animal.

“Hi,” I say, smiling up at him. “What took you so long?”

His answer is something close to a growl. He drops his leather bag on the foyer floor and kicks the door closed behind him. As soon as he’s all the way inside, I lose all patience for my game. I just need him. I launch myself at him and he catches me in his arms, holding me aloft as I wrap my bare legs around him and attack his mouth in a desperate kiss.

He carries me like this, kissing me with equal ferocity as he effortlessly navigates the hallways of the apartment, bringing me into the guest bedroom where I’ve been staying since I began living in Claire’s place. Nick’s hands are firm under my ass, his expensive suit soft and silky against my bare breasts and torso. He is strong and protective and utterly in control, yet I can feel his measured discipline burning away under the fever of our joined mouths.

His eyes are turbulent with passion when he finally tears his lips away from mine. “I can’t go slow right now.”

“Don’t,” I say, as much a command as it is a plea. I moan with the force of everything I’m feeling. “Nick, I need—”

“I know, baby. Me too.”

Tossing me onto the mattress, he quickly strips out of his clothing. Then, gloriously naked, he steps toward the bed where I watch him, reclined on my back and levered up on my elbows. He looks so beautiful, so magnificently male, it makes my mouth water and my sex clench hard and wet with desire.

After a week without seeing him, now I gorge my senses on the sight of his muscled body and smooth, suntanned skin. I know every inch of his powerful physique. I have traced each honed plane and valley, memorized the taste and texture of every delicious inch. His clean, spicy scent is imprinted deep within me, so much so, that just the faintest inhalation now wrings a whimper of unabashed need from my lips.

He doesn’t make me wait a second longer. Thank God.

Retrieving a condom from the box I now keep in the nightstand beside the bed, he takes the packet between his teeth and climbs on top of me, straddling my hips. His erection juts high and proud and immense from the dark thatch at his groin. He is virile and gorgeous, and, right now, he belongs solely to me.

“This time, let me do that,” I tell him when he starts to open the condom.

He hands it over and I reach out to roll the protection over his length. My fingers slide down his thick-veined shaft with the condom, and I can’t resist cupping the heavy sac beneath. My touch draws a moan from his lips and a shudder of pleasure from his body.

I love that I have this effect on him. I love that he makes me believe he is as wild for me as I am for him.

I love . . .

Oh, God. I love so much about this man.

I glance up to his face and find him staring at me—staring through me, as he’s managed to do from the moment we first laid eyes on each other. Can he see what he means to me? Can he possibly know how hopelessly I’m falling for him?

“Lie back,” he commands me, his voice gruff.

When I obey, he draws back from me, positioning himself between my legs and parting me wide. I’m already soaked and ready for him, but he bends to kiss my sex as if it’s a temptation too strong to resist. He strokes me with his tongue, penetrates me, sucks at my clit in a deep, urgent rhythm that has me writhing beneath his mouth.

Just when I think I can’t bear another second of pleasure and torment, he releases me and guides his cock to the slick opening of my body. I cry out as he enters me, my sheath gripping him tightly as he pushes inside, plunging to the root in one delicious thrust.

I gasp his name and then I am lost, overcome by sensation as our bodies crash together in a desperate, almost violent tempo. All the weeks we’ve been apart, the hours of longing, are obliterated by the intensity of our joining now. I’ve missed him, missed this fierce intimacy that connects us.

Nick’s hot gaze holds mine as we rock and claw and strain together, both of us surrendered to the enormity of our hunger for each other. I let go first, unable to stop the massive wave of pleasure as it rolls up on me. Moaning under the force of it, I spiral over the edge in a shattering orgasm.

Nick’s control is stronger than mine, but I can see in the savage beauty of his face that he’s losing the battle too. A ragged shout boils out of him and he drives into me again and again, each thrust harder, deeper, until the pressure is too great, even for him. He comes on a wordless roar, a sound that’s raw and unhinged, beyond erotic.