Tempting(32)

She let out the tiniest whimper when I briefly touched my tongue to hers, just a slow lick. It was the spark that detonated us both. Hands started gripping harder, hers on my scalp and mine around her waist, one hand cupping her ass and fitting her tight against my aching erection.

This felt so different, so authentic. Just Nathan kissing Adele, regardless of who we were or what we might want to acquire from each other. It wasn’t fueled by desperation like it had been for me that first night, that gluttonous give and take of orgasms, the first from anything other than my hand in almost four long years. I spun us around and hefted her onto my desk, her legs immediately wrapping around my hips. I hitched my hand around one of her thighs and pulled it higher around me so I could grind myself against her core.

Her mouth broke away and she dropped her head back. “Oh fuck, that feels good.”

I latched my mouth onto the skin beneath her ear and sucked hard. My hand slid up underneath her shirt, and while I had no intention of actually undressing her in my office, as I wasn’t a complete imbecile, I wanted to feel the parts of her that might be the softest. And the patch of skin just beneath the clasp of her bra was sleek and smooth where it wrapped over her spine. I desperately wanted to spend hours just feeling every inch of her, so badly that my hands felt like they were about to start shaking. I wanted the intimacy with her.

Adele wedged her hand between us and tried to make quick work of my belt.

“Woah, hang on. Not in my office. It’s too risky.”

She pushed out her bottom lip in a slight pout, using her clever fingers to wrap around my cock. I groaned and dropped my head onto her shoulder, tilting my hips into her grip. That rocking movement took me straight from craving intimacy to wanting to fuck her until she lost her voice from screaming. Until she couldn’t walk for days. Get inside her so deeply that neither one of us felt like we could pull away. That feeling was top-of-the-roller-coaster scary.

“Oh come on,” she whispered, lips grazing the shell of my ear. “I’ll just take the edge off now, then we can go somewhere else.”

I lifted my head, still grappling for control, but losing whenever she tightened her hand and my hips pitched forward in response.

“How far away is your place?” I asked in a rough voice.

Adele smiled. “Don’t you remember?”

“Hey, I was a little busy trying not to fuck you against a wall in the alley. Cut me some slack, okay?”

She kept her lips pressed closed and hummed in response, taking her hand away. I tried not to curse, honestly I did.

“I guess it depends on what you want to happen next?”

I was too busy watching the movements of her lips, finally snapping my eyes up to hers when I realized she was waiting for an answer.

“Next, what?”

The soft pink tip of her tongue swept across her bottom lip and then she smiled again. There it was, that victorious, slow widening of her mouth. She damn well knew she had me.

“Where do you want to be?” She leaned forward, dragging her tongue up the side of my neck, only stopping when she sucked my earlobe into her mouth. “When you come next?”

“Uhhhh,” was the most articulate response I could come up with. I felt so fucking out of my depth. It was foreign and terrifying and exhilarating.

“Do you want to come in my mouth?” A kiss under my ear. “In my pussy?” Another kiss at the side of my mouth. I turned to capture her lips and she pulled back. “On my tits?”

“You little fucking tease,” I ground out, then devoured her waiting mouth, sweeping my tongue against hers. I pulled back, smirking when she followed after me with her kiss-reddened lips. “I choose all of the above. I’ll meet you at your place in ten minutes. And you better not make me wait a second longer.”





Chapter Seventeen





After slamming the door of my apartment, I ran around the room, shoving the pile of used tissues under the couch, the dirty dishes into the sink, and throwing the comforter I’d left on the floor back on my bed. I straightened the wrinkles, fluffed the pillows and wiggled out of the jacket I was wearing.

Looking around my apartment, I suddenly had the oddest of doubts. What would he think upon seeing my apartment in the light of day, with my threadbare thrift store sofa, my mismatched bar stools and my scratched and dented computer desk? I’d seen his home, taken in his things. His walls weren’t covered in patches from previous tenants; his floors didn’t look dull from age and neglect.

“He’s a man, Adele. He’s not going to give a shit if you have fine china because he’ll hopefully be too busy banging you into tomorrow.”