“Were you on your knees?”
She shook her head. “No. You straddled my face. You fucked my mouth like that,” she said breathlessly, as she rubbed herself against the toy.
He hissed in his breath. His teeth pressed into his lips, his eyes dark and wild. “Did you come like that?”
“Yes,” she said on a pant. “I called out your name. I came tasting you.”
His chest rose and fell, as if he were exercising every ounce of self-restraint right now to concentrate on her orgasm. “I jacked off to you that morning too. To making you come. Do you want to know how I made you come?”
“Yes.”
“Rock into this and I’ll show you,” he whispered harshly, and she moved with him, riding the vibrator as he dropped his other hand between her legs, sliding his fingers across her, then thrusting one into her, and another he slowly pushed into her rear.
She cried out, first in shock, then in pleasure, as the twin—no, the triple—sensations shot through her. A burn, like the first taste of whiskey, then pure, unabashed ecstasy from the vibrator on her clit, and then his fingers playing her insides like a fucking pro, her whole body beholden to the sheer prowess of his hands as he drew another shattering orgasm out of her.
She called out his name, gripping his shoulder and clawing her nails into his skin as her climax rocketed through her.
When she finally could focus again, he spoke first. “I fucking love watching you come. I love what I do to you.”
“Me too,” she said, and for some reason it felt like an intensely vulnerable admission. As if there was more going on than him showing her pleasure. It was as if he needed to do this to her after their brief conversation. He’d revealed the tiniest bit of himself minutes before, and that was probably hard for him. So he’d needed to chase that with sex, mix it with pleasure, so he could watch her give in to his hand, to his toys, to his tricks.
She gladly gave into him. He made her feel so many things.
It was her turn to make him feel. To keep up her end of the deal. She wasn’t going to enact her morning-after solo fantasy right now. That might be too intimate for where they were. But she had no problem dropping to her knees, freeing his erection, and taking him deep into her throat until her name became some kind of chant as he lost control, just the way she wanted him to.
A few minutes later, after they’d both straightened up, she grabbed her purse to leave.
With a hand on her back—he always seemed to place a hand on her back, a possessive gesture and one she enjoyed—they walked down the plush carpeted hallway from his penthouse apartment to the elevators.
“Do you have a busy day tomorrow?” he asked.
She nodded. “Always. You?”
He laughed lightly. “Yes. The same. Meeting after meeting, including far too many about politics.”
“Politics? In your line of work?” she asked curiously.
He shook his head, a look of disdain flashing across his cool blue eyes. “I hate politics. What’s on your agenda?”
“Oh, you know, just planning my trip to Paris to keynote a conference. That’s all,” she said, giving him a saucy sashay of her hips. His palm landed hard on her ass as he pressed the down button to the elevator.
Her eyes widened, inviting more slapping.
“If you tempt me like that, beautiful, I will insist on you staying the night so I can spend more time with you and your gorgeous ass,” he said, back to his playful self.
“I better not tempt you then, since we’re both so busy.”
“How ever will you fit me in tomorrow?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as they stepped into the lift.
Reaching for the collar of his shirt, she tugged him close, and lowered her voice to its sexiest purr. “The same way I fit you in this week. All that wetness,” she said, grabbing his hand, and placing it between her legs as she lifted up her skirt, savoring the reaction her words elicited from him. Another groan. Another press of his body against her. She removed his hand as the elevator shot down. “But I’d hate to tempt you anymore.”
“I’d hate it if you didn’t tempt me,” he growled, and then lifted her up against the elevator wall, wrapped her legs around his hips, and gave her a tease of what would likely happen the next night.
She expected him to continue on like this for the whole ride down, but instead he gently lowered her to the floor, and leaned in to her neck, whispering in her ear. “I’m having a great time with you. I can’t wait to see you again.”
Instinct told her to toss out a witty comeback, to say, Presumptuous, are you? But tomorrow sounded damn good to her. So she simply said, “Me too.”