Grounded (Up in the Air #3)(93)

"Yes," he murmured, undoing his slacks to pull out that delicious cock. It was hard as a poker and ready to go, as ever. "I've told you this. It's unfortunate that you had to see me at my worst to believe it." He ripped off my panties as he spoke, making the words come out harsh and raw.

He impaled me on his arousal forcefully, not checking if I was ready-not letting me respond. It didn't matter. I shuddered with the pleasure, and the pain, of his possession. 

He didn't move once he'd seated me to the hilt, but held me there, looking up at me with his heart in his eyes. I loved those eyes so much.

I cupped his cheek. "You're so different with me," I repeated. "You never made me look down; you never let me look away from you. You never walked away from me."

He shook his head. "Never."

"I loved your eyes first," I told him, repeating his words from a few weeks ago back to him, because it was true, and because we were two halves of a whole-we had been all along, and he'd been so clever to know it right away. I used to think it was insanity, but now I was beginning to think that it was pure brilliance. "I see it, too, James. I see the other half of my soul in you."

He jerked against me suddenly, grinding me against him. He never broke eye contact as he came inside of me.

He pulled my forehead to his, giving me a self-deprecating grin. "Well, that was embarrassing. I feel like a teenager. I'll have to make it up to you."

I smiled back, far from upset about it. I loved affecting him so powerfully that he lost control like that.

"I have no doubt that you will," I said, meaning it. If we were keeping score on orgasms, I was in the lead by four to one, at least. The man always could play my body like a drum.

He slid a hand between our bodies, moving his thumb in soft circles over my clit, circling his hips to move his thick length inside of me in an intoxicating grind.

"Touch me," he said roughly. I relished the chance. It seemed like more often than not only he did the touching.

I ran my hands over his chest and up to his shoulders. I cupped his face in my hands before running my hungry fingers to the buttons of his shirt. I loosened it clumsily, popping a few unfortunate buttons as I went. I moaned when I got his chest bared enough to stroke that perfect golden skin.

He brought me like that, with those little circles of his hips and that clever thumb, his skin under my hands. It was a gentle wave of sensations.

He grabbed my hips firmly and thrust harder as I still quivered around him. Big hard thrusts turned into rough bucks. He bucked me nearly off his length before yanking me back onto him. What had started gentle turned into a deliciously rough ride as I was still recovering from the first orgasm.

His eyes turned from tender between one hard thrust and the next, taking on a possessive gleam. He didn't even have to say the words. I knew what he wanted. "I'm yours, James. Yours."

Those tarnished depths glittered at me as he made me fall over that fine edge again. He didn't let up, pounding me until I knew I'd be deliciously sore, topping me from the bottom, controlling my body's movements without having to utter a word. I loved that the most, that I could put myself into his control and, at least here, like this, he always knew just what I needed.

He brought me again and watched my eyes as I fell apart before he let himself pour into me with that rough little moan that I loved best.

He was pulling himself out of me when he froze. His eyes shot to mine, his concerned. "You're bleeding," he told me.

I grimaced. "Ich. I'm starting my period. Sorry. I think maybe we jumpstarted it."

He laughed, looking relieved. "As long as I didn't do it. And don't be sorry. I don't mind."

He pushed my hips back against the edge of his desk, pushing my dress up high. I tried to bat his hands away.

He laughed again. "This is where you draw the line? I'll never understand why some things are more taboo than others."

"And that's what makes you so kinky, the fact that you don't see the difference."



       
         
       
        

He just shrugged. He was at peace with the kinky part. "Lift up your leg. Let me look at you."

I batted his hands away again, cringing when I saw the blood on his suit. "I don't even want to know the price of the suit we just destroyed."

He looked down at himself and shrugged. "I don't give a fuck about the suit. I do give a fuck about that scandalized look on your face. You have to realize that's just like blood in the water for me."

"Literally," I muttered, still batting his hands away.