"Put your hands against the wall."
She does just that, and I lift her dress inch by inch until my fingers feel her soft and smooth skin. I skim my hands between her legs and she immediately splays them wider, giving me access. I drag my thumb along the scrap of fabric covering her entrance, rubbing her over her panties in a slow, lavish movement. Pushing her hair to one side, I kiss the back of her neck as I continue driving her crazy with my thumb. Her soft moans fill the silence, and I lower my other hand to cup one ass cheek. Her skin turns to goose bumps under my grip. I love how responsive she is to me. When I feel her soak through the fabric, I take my hands off her. She swirls around, eyes wide and pleading.
///
"Blake," she protests. I scoop her in my arms, drowning her protests with a long and hard kiss, and she laces her arms around my neck, deepening the kiss. She tastes sweet, and for a moment, I consider simply kissing her the entire night. Then I lower her on the bed, and we share an accomplice smile before ridding each other of their clothes.
"Careful with the dress." She smiles up at me. "But don't worry. You can be rough with me all you want."
That smile is my undoing. My plan to take it slow just went out the window. Having her naked in front of me isn't helping my case either.
She flicks on the light switch at the side of the bed, and I love that there is no hesitation in that action. She is damn beautiful, every single part of her, and I'll make sure she knows that. I'll remind her every day and every night, worship her.
"That's it, I want to see you, babe. You're so damn beautiful."
Clara sits on the bed, and my erection is in front of her. She licks once across the crown, and energy strums through me, settling at the base of my spine. Then she leans on her back on the bed.
"You think you're the only one who can tease?" she asks.
"You can tease me all you want. But you don't make the rules, Clara. I do."
I move over her, and she spreads her legs to her side, opening up for me. I close in, fist my erection at the base, and slap one of her folds with it, then the other. When I push the tip over her clit, she digs her nails in my arms.
"You like this?"
"Yes. I like everything you do to me."
"Fuck, Clara. Grip the headboard."
"But I want to touch you."
"Grip the headboard," I repeat, and she lets go of me, doing as I instruct. "Good. If you don't keep them there, I'll tie you up."
Her eyes widen and her breathing intensifies. I pull back, lowering myself on the bed until my face is between her legs. Then I cup each ass cheek in one hand, pushing her ass high in the air until I have access everywhere I want.
I lick her from her crack to her clit. She digs her heels deeper in the mattress, her toes twitching and curling. Oh yes. I want to bring her right to the cusp before I slide inside her. I dip my tongue into her opening and feel the muscles in her ass contract under my fingertips as her inner muscles spasm around my tongue. She's gripping the headboard tighter, pushing herself on her heels like this is too much for her. I like seeing her like this: unrestrained, feeling and enjoying, reveling in the pleasure. Pulling away, I run my hands over her ankles, then kiss the same spots, first lavishing one leg with attention and then the other.
"You're gorgeous, Clara." I continue upward until I reach her navel. Her breathing is frantic, and I have a perfect view to her breasts moving up and down. Christ, she's a sight.
"Let go of the headboard."
She obeys immediately, possibly thinking she's finally allowed to touch me. I have other plans. I flip her on her stomach and then kiss her everywhere, including her scars. Especially the scars.
"Every inch of you is beautiful. These scars right here, they just show you're brave, that you stand up for what you believe in."
She sighs softly, and I can't hold back anymore, so I grab a condom from the nightstand and pull it over myself, then flip her on her back again.
I'm so hard, I can barely think straight. Her flesh is glistening, and just the thought of those soft inner walls closing in on me is enough to drive me crazy.
"Blake," she whispers, almost begging.
I position myself at her entrance and slide inside in one swift move, entering her all the way to the base. She cries out beautifully as she clenches around me, fisting the sheets. She is so tight and snug and fucking perfect.
I lift her ankles, placing them on my shoulders and move fast, watching myself slide in and out, her chest rising up and down in quick succession. She's not just fisting the sheets, she's pulling at them.
"This feels so good, so deep," she rasps, writhing and moaning as I drive inside her faster.
"You're amazing, Clara. Fucking amazing, you know that?"
Her nipples are puckered, calling to me as her breasts move with every one of my thrusts. In a matter of seconds, I change positions. I lower her feet back on the bed and lounge over her. As much as I like watching her, tasting her is even better. I kiss her chest, take a nipple in my mouth, then skim my lips up her chest and neck, her jawline. I pepper her cheeks with kisses before feathering my mouth over hers. She parts her lips, allowing me to kiss her deep and hard.
Every time we're together, she gives more of herself to me, and I do the same. Not because she demands it, but because opening up to her feels natural and right. I want to make her feel all the things I feel and don't know how to voice.
///
Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I breathe in through my nose to stave off the orgasm for just a while longer. I'm close. I can feel it in the tightness at the base of my spine. But when she starts clenching around me, I know I'm a goner. I move my hips so I grind against her clit, and she explodes underneath me.
We climax as one, a tangle of messy and sweaty limbs, our cries mingling together, her fingers tugging hard at my hair, my nails digging in her thigh. After regaining my composure, I sit up. Clara pushes herself on her elbows, and we both look at the state of the bed. The sheets are completely torn out of their corners. I can't remember who ended up pulling them out altogether. It might have been her. It might have been me. We might have done this together.
She laughs. "We're such a mess."
I kiss her forehead. "We're fierce."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Clara
Quentin: In my office. Now.
I leap from my chair, staring at the words on my phone. Not a good omen, and not what I expected. I just received the confirmation that the stars of our show will be on a famous late-night talk show, and I'm damn proud of that. It took a lot of hard work to obtain that, but it will give us a big boost. Since I just forwarded the e-mail to Quentin, I was expecting praise, and this smells fishy.
When I enter Quentin's office, his face is set in grim lines. The man usually looks like he has a stick up his butt, but today that stick must be extra-long and thick.
"What's the matter, boss? Did you read my e-mail about the talk show?"
He nods, gesturing me to sit in the chair opposite him, which I do, the back of my neck prickling with unease.
"I remember you telling me you don't know the Bennett family well." He turns his computer monitor toward me, and my entire body goes cold. It's a celebrity gossip website featuring photos from last Saturday's Bennett show. I appear on a number of those, laughing with Blake, talking to Logan or Ava. One in which Blake is clearly kissing me. My mind begins to spin. How could I have been so careless? I knew there was press there.
Then I mentally slap myself. Why should I be hiding? I didn't do anything wrong.
"You lied."
Deep breath, shoulders straight. "It's my private life. I don't have to lay it out for you."
"Damn right you do if I ask you to." Quentin is a short, thick man, and behind his desk, he looks even shorter and thicker.
"As long as my private life doesn't interfere with my work-"
"Spare me the bullshit. I asked you for dirt on the family, and you lied to my face, telling me you're not close to them."
"I also told you I don't sell people out for ratings. You asked me to betray the trust of people I care for. That's not part of my job description. Or yours."
"I've been at this job longer than you, girl. Everyone does what they can to get forward, including stepping on bodies."
"Not how I operate. And Nate got at the very top without trashing anyone."
"Saint Nate." He scoffs. "Please. If I hear anyone else in this goddamn network singing his praises, I will throw up."