Читать книгу Sex at Work: Come Back to Me / This Is What I Want / Psychic Sex - Cathleen Ross - Страница 5

Mack closed the door and locked it behind him, the sound of the bolt turning unnaturally loud to my overly piqued senses as I waited, my heart caught in my throat, for him to reach me. I closed my legs and tugged my blouse shut, suddenly embarrassed to be found half-naked, even though he was the cause.

My hungry gaze roamed his body. I hadn’t seen him in over ten years, yet it was though not one day had passed.

He was dressed elegantly, his loosely fitted trousers and casual shirt draping his long, hard frame to perfection, his large feet encased in dark, Italian-styled loafers. So well turned out, so different than what I last remembered.

But it was him.

No finely tailored clothes or handmade shoes could disguise his raw masculinity.

I nestled my flushed and heated back further against the cool leather seat and desperately kept my face blank to keep the wild emotions crashing over me from showing in my expression, trying to keep it all together.

I wanted to either run to his arms or go screaming and crying in the other direction as far away from him as possible, to put as much distance between us as I possibly could.

My gaze returned to his face and I recognized the determined expression in his hauntingly familiar gaze. Dark slashing eyebrows were set above bright blue, deep-set eyes that were surrounded by lashes so thick they seemed unreal.

His aquiline nose was saved from model perfection with the addition of a small bump in the middle, one he’d gotten in high school playing football. Chiseled cheeks, a well-defined, determined squared chin, and a hard yet sensual wide mouth completed the picture of utter masculine beauty.

As I had been hungrily checking him out, he had been doing the same. “God, you’re beautiful, Sheena,” he groaned.

I knew what he saw; not much had changed with the exception of my hairstyle in ten years. Outwardly at least. I was still average height, with the same dark brown eyes, slightly rounded nose and full cheeks. And a body that still had a tendency toward curves.

I wanted to do what most women did and instantly refute his compliment, but the look in his heated eyes told me he meant every word of what he said.

I ran a self-conscious hand over my short, curly hair and laughed nervously.

“My hair is different, I imagine, than what you expected,” I answered. The last time we’d seen one another, I’d worn my hair long and relaxed, having chemically straightened my natural curls.

“After you…left, I changed. Matured, made my own decisions, even about my hair,” I replied, hinting at those long-ago days when I allowed others to make decisions for me.

“I love it,” he said and the sincerity of the compliment eased the nervous swell in my belly. “Make love with me,” he boldly asked, his deep voice hoarse, his beautiful eyes pleading.

His hand rested at the top of his pants, waiting for me to give my assent.

I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t speak; emotions were crowding in on me, memories…

“Say something, baby.” No longer the forceful stranger who’d made love to me over the phone, no longer the arrogant stranger who forced me to surrender to his demands, he was a man asking a woman to allow him into her arms.

And damned if I could say no. I opened my arms, inviting him to come to me.

With my silent acquiescence, a change immediately came over him. Within moments he’d crossed the short distance separating us, lifted me from the chair and plopped me onto my desk and covered my body.

We clutched and grabbed at one another, buttons popping, shoes kicked off and clothes flying everywhere in our haste to bare our bodies, wanting nothing between us but hotsliding skin.

With a feral growl of need and arousal he pushed between my legs, shoving them high, forcing them wide apart and planted my feet on the desk. I felt the hot knob of his shaft press against the entry to my vagina, waiting for approval before entering. My gaze flew to his, measuring his heavy regard.

“Take me inside of you, baby.”

I expected him to forge ahead, he was so hot with the need to fuck me. I was surprised at his hesitancy.

I held his gaze and reached one hand down and lightly toyed with his twin, silky-skinned spheres, teasing them, rolling them around my hand in delight.

“Oh God, baby,” he laughingly groaned. “This is going to be hard enough without you playing with my balls.”

“Turnabout is fair play, Mack,” I said, reminding him of the way he’d been playing with me over the last week. With one final caress, I allowed his heavy sac to gently fall back against his thighs. I circled the base of his penis and wrapped my hand around its thick circumference. My pussy tightened in response and my heart ached at how much I anticipated feeling all that delicious dick imbedded deep inside me.

“Just take me, baby…ah, yes…just like that,” he said as I guided his rock hard shaft inside my body, the cream from my pussy soaking him even as he pressed inside of me. We both groaned in delight when my pussy instantly latched on and gripped him. I bit my lip to keep myself from crying out when he began to feed me his dick in delicious increments.

He gripped my hips and forced my body to still in order to take all of him in. I was unable to hold back the cry as he fed me the rest of his shaft, the feeling so exquisite, so hard…

“Oh God, Mack…oh God, oh God…” I chanted over and over, my voice shaky.

He stopped, a crease of worry knotting his brow. “Are you okay? Am I hurting you, baby?”

I squirmed around his massive shaft. Yes, there was some pain, but there was no way I was going to allow him to stop.

“It’s been awhile for me,” I admitted. “But it’s good, Mack, it’s good, baby. Now, do me.”

He didn’t wait for me to change my mind. He drove his shaft home, so far inside of me I felt the tip brush against my womb.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he directed.

I clasped my legs around his narrow waist and grabbed onto his thick forearms with my fingers, digging into his flesh as he stretched me wide, and began to move.

And oh God, when the man moved…he moved.

He held on to my hips and leaned down on top of me, pinning me beneath his powerful body and he fucked me hard. He jostled my body, the hardness of his flesh competing with the unyielding wood of my desk.

“I missed this tight cunt, so hot and juicy, fitting my dick just right.” He breathed the scorching, coarse words against my neck.

“God, Mack, I missed this too!” I whimpered, loving the hot nasty words, loving the way he made me feel as he drove inside my creaming heat, working me in a way that only he could, in a way I’d not had in over ten years.

He leveled himself away from me, lifted my leg and dug into me again, knifing me in hot easy glides, moving my body the way he wanted, positioning us to achieve mutual satisfaction. On and on he thrust inside of me, hammering into me; nothing was heard but our heavy breathing and the wet sound of bodies slapping, harsh groans and sighs of pleasure.

When he ran one hand down my trembling thighs and captured my clit between his thumb and forefinger, pinching the turgid tip, I blew out a harsh strangled breath. My head tossed back and forth on the desk. I slid myself closer to him and gasped when he rotated his hips, corkscrewing his dick inside of me, and jammed into my body.

I began to move, I had to, with all that hard, pounding, overwhelming dick rutting inside of me; if I didn’t, I would have lost my mind.

“No…don’t move yet…you feel so good on my dick. If you move, this will be over with, before we both want it to be,” he laughed huskily.

“Please, Mack, I need to move, I can’t take it—”

“You can,” he said and covered my mouth with his, shoving his tongue deep into the recesses of my mouth, effectively shutting me up.

His strokes were slow, deliberate and forced me to take all of him, not sacrificing one scorching inch as he fucked me.

“You feel so good wrapped around me like this, so wet and good,” he murmured, releasing my mouth. “Do you like the way I feel, Sheena? Did you miss this from me, baby?”

“Yesss!” I panted. “Yes, Mack, yes I missed this.” I cried out harshly when he reached a hand between us and spread the lips of my vagina wide, around his straining dick, and spread my own lubricant up and over my clit.

The hot strokes of his rod, the sweet massage of his hand, sent me over the edge in minutes, and I cried out as he continued to plunge into my body, loving me in a way I hadn’t been loved in years.

My orgasm triggered his and within minutes he was joining me in the release. He shouted hoarsely, reared his big body away from mine, and pulled out at the last minute.

I felt the hot stream of his seed jet free and land in a scorching river on my belly, before he collapsed on top of me.

“Come back to me,” he repeated in a hoarse whisper against the side of my neck. “I should have never let you go.”