Everything about Corrine is intense, stronger, heavy,deeper. And the nervous, twitchy guy in me can’t take it.
“Wait,” I say. Her exhales tickle my lips and chin. “When you invited me over tonight, it was for sex, right?”
There’s no sound, until Corrine drops her forehead to mine and laughs. It’s really more of a series of quick exhales through her nose, but she smiles too and that somehow makes them louder.
“Yes,” she whispers, her voice shaking.
“Thank god. I was worried you wanted me to format another spreadsheet for you.”
She scoffs but the smile is still there and this doesn’t feel as heavy now. I can carry this. Our mouths come together and our hands move with purpose, pushing fabric off shoulders, pulling it over heads, rubbing between skin and cotton.
She sighs when I glide two fingers over her lips, her skin getting wetter, warmer. Her eyes close as she starts to rock over me. She pulls my pants down, my cock out.
“Pocket,” I growl. “In my back pocket.”
I lift my ass and she pulls my wallet out from beneath me. She flips it open with one hand, stroking me slowly with her other.
“Here.” I hold my hand out to her so I can suit up while she finishes undressing.
I hold myself up for her as she straddles me again, her shirt and tights thrown to the side. With her hands on my chest she sinks down on me, and before she can move I grasp her hips, holding her in place. I close my eyes against the sight of her on top of me: the flush that covers her chest; her nipples, larger and darker than I thought they’d be, surprise me every time I see them. They make my mouth water.
I let her take over, now that the urge to rut up into her and come with teeth-cracking hardness has subsided. Rubbing her body on mine, she leans forward, kissing my collarbone, scraping her teeth over my nipples, until she gets a sound from me.
My hands skim up her legs until my thumbs meet over her clit. Her rhythm gets shorter, tighter. Her hair tickles my chest and my face as we both watch my hand move between her legs, my cock disappearing over and over again.
She’s quiet the whole time until she whispers, “Don’t stop.”
I don’t. “Like this?”
“Don’t stop,” she says, more urgent than before.
I really, really don’t.
She takes a hiccupped breath. Her palm creeps up my chest and she presses her middle and index finger against my lips. I open my mouth and she slips them in.
Her eyes are dinner plates, the Roman Coliseum, the fucking moon. “Oh,” she says. Her body squeezes me, hot and tight.
“I’m not stopping,” I say, not until she releases a long-held breath and shakes on top of me. Then I hold her hips in my hands, and press up, up, up, until she cries out and I cry out and something like an aftershock moves through her.
Corrine falls forward. Her lashes brush my chest with each blink. I stroke her hair and wait for this to feel weird or wrong. I wait for this to feel like I just fucked my boss. But that feeling never comes. The only thing wrong with any of this is that my skin is prickling from the cold air and I am just starting to notice and uncomfortable floor sex shouldn’t be just as good as bed sex. Or desk sex.
She rolls to the side and I roll with her but have to stop when I almost roll onto my glasses.
“You kept your glasses on for sex,” she laughs.
“Youkept my glasses on for sex,” I tease. “My hands were busy.” I cup her breasts and make a distinct honking motion and this somehow pulls a laugh out of her.
I shiver. “Are you cold?” I gather her closer for warmth.
“No.”
“Yeah, me neither.” She smiles. I think I like her smiles better.
Chapter 28: Corrine
Wesley isn’t gone five minutes before he knocks on the front door again.
“Just a second,” I yell, my voice echoing among the tile, but I doubt he can hear me from my en suite bathroom.
