When he felt her orgasm building on his tongue, those telltale whimpers and shudders that had him on the verge of coming himself, he pulled back, ignoring her protests. He stood up and kissed her again, wrapping her tightly in his arms and guiding her away from the door.
As the backs of her calves hit the couch, she pulled away.
“Wait,” she said breathlessly. “My hair. Max will kill me.”
“What?”
“I need to be on top.”
“Okay. Right. Okay.”
He sat down, palming himself through his jeans, groaningloudly at the sight of her bending over to pull her underwear off in one fluid motion before climbing up and straddling him.
“You better be quiet, or these are going in your mouth,” she said, dangling the lacy fabric from one finger.
“Promise?”
She threw her head back and laughed, and something about it sent a strange twinge through him. Fuck, he’d missed her. Missed making her laugh just as much as he missed the rest of it.
She reached down to stroke him through his pants, and he felt like he’d never been this hard in his life, like he was about to go out of his mind from wanting her. He got dizzy as he watched her undo his fly and slide her fingers under the waistband of his boxer briefs, his cock springing free so enthusiastically it was almost embarrassing.
When she reached out and wrapped her hand around it, thumb sweeping lightly over the tip, his hips bucked involuntarily and he shuddered. “Fuck.Lilah…” he moaned, his vocabulary reduced solely to those two words.
Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, swollen and pink from where he’d sucked and bitten them, and he swallowed a moan like he could practically already feel them enveloping him, sucking him down, even though they had no time, even though they were running out of time already.
“Condom?” she breathed, and he gestured absently toward a side table. She glanced sideways at him like she was about to say something, give him shit for having them so easily accessible, probably. But she just leaned over to rummage through the drawer, rolling one on and positioning herself above his lap without missing a beat.
He pushed her skirt up to her hips so he could have an unobstructed view as she braced one hand on his shoulder and used the other to position him against her. She slid downagonizingly slowly; it felt like it took ages for just the tip to notch inside her. Then she stopped. He tried to thrust up, desperately, but she only lifted her hips with him, preventing him from sinking any deeper.
When he collapsed back down again, growling in frustration, she finally started to move, fucking herself on him shallowly, slowly, teasing him. Down an inch, up an inch, but no more. He felt like he was going to go out of his fucking mind.
“Goddammit,Lilah,” he choked, digging his fingers into her hips, dragging his eyes back to her face.
She was unbelievable, looming over him, face flushed, eyes sparkling, teeth sunk into that full bottom lip, like she should be in a fucking museum or something. Gloating down at him with an expression that could only meanI own you.
He couldn’t argue with that.
“Ask me nicely.” The sternness in her voice made his cock pulse.
“Please,” he groaned, but he didn’t wait for her response before his grip tightened around her hips and he slammed her down flush against him, making her take him all the way.
The moan that ripped out of her was powerful enough to make her fall forward against his chest, but when she rolled upright again, she was smirking. Like he’d played right into her hands, like baiting him into losing control had been her plan the whole time.
He knotted his hand in her hair, tightening his grip, making her wince. “Bequiet,” he growled. Her breath hitched in response, and she ducked down to catch his lower lip in her teeth so hard he thought she might draw blood.
She started to ride him, lazily at first, then finding her pace, and all he could do was try to keep up, electric currents sizzling up his spine, his jaw going slack. She was in charge, she’d beenin charge from the moment he’d met her, and he fucking loved it. He lovedher.
No. Fuck.What?It was enough to make him lose his rhythm for a second. He didn’t love her. He didn’t love her. He hated her, but he was also fucking her, and it was so goddamn good he could barely remember his own name. Of course everything was all mixed up. It didn’t mean anything.
But why did he hate her, again? Because she’d gotten his friend fired, someone he didn’t even talk to anymore? Because he’d been in love with her all those years ago, and she hadn’t felt the same way?
He forced himself to abandon that train of thought before it completely derailed him, surrendering instead to his animal instincts, his heart hammering so hard he swore he could hear it rattling his rib cage, blanking out everything but the sensation of her squeezing around him, slick and hot, taking what she needed from him. He kept his hands firmly on her hips, not trusting himself to touch her anywhere else, both grateful and disappointed that they were still fully clothed.
“Stop looking at me like that.” Her voice was shaky as her eyes fluttered shut, then open again.
“Like what?”
“You’re being all…intense.”
