Читать книгу A Dangerously Sexy Affair - Stefanie London - Страница 11

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QUINN CLOSED HER eyes as Aiden came down over her, his weight pressing her into the soft mattress. It was like being trapped between a fluffy cloud and a god. A sex god, if that orgasm was anything to go on.

Her body hummed, hovering in some crazy limbo between roaring hunger and total satisfaction. It had been a while since she’d come that hard, and his mouth was so, so, so much better than her trusty vibrator.

Cupping the back of her head, he slid his tongue across her lips, opening her. Allowing her to taste herself.

She moaned into him and heat fanned out across her chest as he moved down her body. There was something graceful about his movement, something sleek and elegant and primal. He captured a nipple with his lips and sucked. Hard.

“Oh.” Words escaped her as he laved her breast, tugging, licking, worshipping.

“What do you want, Pink?”

“I want... Ahhhhh.”

Colors danced behind her closed eyelids as he pushed his hips against hers, his length rubbing over her still-sensitive sex. Denim rasped over her soft skin, the steely hardness making her pulse race.

“Say it,” he growled against her breast, his teeth working her into a frenzy. “Tell me.”

“I want you inside me,” she gasped.

“No.”

Her head snapped up, eyes unblinking. If she didn’t have him now, she might explode... At the very least she’d wear her vibrator out trying to make up for not having him. “What do you mean?”

“I still don’t know your name.” He released his grip, bringing his head up to lock that electric gaze straight on her.

“I’m Pink,” she stammered, the haze of excitement fogging her mind.

“Your real name.” A dark curl fell over his forehead and he brushed it aside.

“What does it matter?” She pushed herself up and reached for the top button of his shirt. “It won’t change how incredible this is going to be.”

“I remember the name of every girl I’ve ever slept with, and if this is going to be as incredible as I think it will be...” He paused.

Flattening her palms against his chest, she pushed him back until he sat on his heels. “Yes?”

“I want to know what name to moan in your ear when I’m inside you.”

Quinn’s hands trembled as she undid the buttons on his shirt. Dark hair dusted his chest, tapering to a V down the hard plane of his stomach and dipping below the waistband of his jeans.

She sucked in a breath and tried to steady herself. She never lost her wits, ever. Aiden, however, was doing crazy things to her. Crazy, astoundingly pleasurable things.

“It’s Quinn,” she said, her hands working at the button on his fly.

He placed his hand over hers, warm and reassuring. “Quinn.”

“Are you going to tell me it’s a beautiful name?” she quipped, sarcasm her natural and comfortable shield.

“I doubt saying the expected thing would win me any favors with you.” He moved her hand away and stood, dragging the zipper on his fly down.

“It wouldn’t.”

As he stripped himself of his jeans and briefs, Quinn couldn’t help but stare. She knew more than anyone that computer geeks didn’t always fit into the stereotypes or clichés. But she hadn’t expected Aiden to be so...powerful.

Muscular thighs met trim hips, the hard jut of his cock making her blood fizz. God, she wanted him like nothing else.

“Wow,” she whispered.

His eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Thanks for the ego boost.”

Heat flared through her, filling her neck and cheeks. “I mean...uh...”

“You can stop at wow.” He brushed the hair from her face. “I’m definitely okay with that.”

She touched her fingers to the tip of him, hesitating before wrapping them around his shaft. He made a guttural noise at the back of his throat that urged her on. She slid her hand up and down, stroking him.

“Quinn,” he moaned and pushed his hips forward into her grip. “That’s so damn good.”

Emboldened by his praise, she parted her lips and leaned forward, drawing him into her mouth. The head of his cock slid along her tongue and she tasted a faint saltiness. Eyes closed, she bobbed her head down as far as she could go.

At the same time she ran her hand up and down his thigh, his hairs tickling her palm. The scent of earthy maleness danced in her nose.

“That’s enough.” His voice came out strangled. Edgy.

She eased him out of her mouth and swirled her tongue over the tip of him. “What if I’m not ready to stop?”

He grunted, sweeping the hair over her shoulder and easing her back. “I’m not going to last more than five seconds if you keep that up.”

“You’re not the only one who’s skilled with their mouth.”

“Damn straight.” He scooped up his jeans and dug a foil packet from his wallet, then tore it open in one smooth motion and rolled the condom down on himself.

His arm slid around her waist and he eased them down to the bed, his knees nudging her thighs apart. Warmth enveloped her as he pressed her into the mattress, the weight of him deliciously comforting. His lips found the crook of her collarbone, and she looped her arms around his neck.

“You’re so beautiful.” He planted a hot, openmouthed kiss on her lips.

“I thought you weren’t going to say what was expected,” she murmured, tugging on his lower lip with her teeth.

His cock pressed at her entrance, rubbing against her in a way that made her whole body ache with desperation. “I’m serious. You’re absolutely incredible and unique.”

She buried her face against his neck, unsure of how to react to the compliment. It was one thing for her to joke about herself, but another thing entirely for him to mean it. Instead of responding, she sucked on his skin, rolling her hips up against his. Showing him what she wanted instead of telling him.

He entered her in one fluid movement, the shock of his thickness pushing all the air from her lungs. A brief flash of pain gave way to liquid heat, honeyed and soothing and all-encompassing.

“God, Quinn.” He gasped against her hair. “You’re so tight. So perfect.”

“Take me. Please.”

And he did. With abandon.

Her nails dug into his back as he pumped into her, his hips knocking against hers, each stroke brushing her sex and pushing her closer to the peak. She grabbed his face in her hands and forced his mouth down to hers, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“So good,” he murmured, his eyes squeezed shut. “Oh, Quinn. Christ!”

An orgasm crashed into her as he plunged deep, his body trembling against hers. Their names mixed together, passed between each other’s lips as they fell into shared oblivion.

* * *

QUINN’S EYELIDS FLUTTERED OPEN. She tried to push the hair from her face and realized she couldn’t move. Not an inch. She hadn’t had that much to drink at the party...had she?

The bed shifted and something hard pressed against her ass, an arm tightening around her. Then it came flooding back: talking to Aiden, drinks at the bar followed by a string of life-changing orgasms.

Shit.

She’d done it...she’d actually had sex without freaking out.

And she’d slept through the night. When had that happened last? Normally, it would take an hour or two of “Slayer’s Faith” before she could even contemplate crawling into bed, and then she’d stick her earbuds in, tossing fitfully to some bullshit relaxation track until sleep finally claimed her. Temporarily, anyway.

The last time she’d slept all the way through without waking was... She couldn’t remember.

His arm was a deadweight over her midsection. His thighs lined hers and his crotch cradled her ass. Apparently, what they did last night hadn’t worn him out...not if the steel rod digging into her was anything to go on.

Easing herself out of Aiden’s grip, she shuffled to the edge of the bed and grabbed her phone. Three missed calls from Alana and a handful of texts. Oh, and it was 6:00 a.m.

Double shit!

She had to get across the bridge to her Brooklyn apartment so she could change for work. A subway ride of shame wasn’t exactly appealing, but a cab might not be quick enough. Biting down on her lip, her mind spun, searching for a solution.

Moving as gingerly as possible, she swung her legs out of the bed and stood. There was no time for awkward morning-after conversation. Besides, she’d been very clear what she’d wanted from him.

Aiden’s resting form could have been used for a mattress commercial; the hint of a smile on his lips and the messy splay of his dark curls made him look angelic.

But there sure as hell hadn’t been anything angelic about last night.

Quinn pressed the heel of her hand to the throbbing spot between her eyes. She needed to get out. Now.

Tiptoeing across the room, she gathered her panties and her dress and slipped both on as stealthily as she could. Alana’s patent leather stilettos gleamed beside the bed, still standing upright from when she’d discarded them last night. Heat surged through her as she remembered exactly what had happened after she’d shed them, her knees wobbling at the memory.

Holding the heels in one hand and her purse in the other, she glanced at Aiden. He mumbled in his sleep, rolling onto his back. The sheet came up over his hips, outlining an impressive erection. Swallowing, she let her eyes linger for a moment before sneaking for the door.

Part of her wanted to scribble down her number and leave it for him to find, but a relationship wasn’t in her plan. She had a promotion to chase and a personal life to sort out before she inflicted her problems on someone else...and her gut told her that seeing Aiden again would be like trying to take drugs without getting addicted.

You both agreed, no strings. You don’t owe him anything.

Quinn opened the hotel room door just enough to squeeze through, and she held her breath as it closed behind her.

As she walked barefoot to the elevator, her phone buzzed, Alana’s face flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“You slept with someone?” Alana’s high-pitched squeal ricocheted in Quinn’s head, making her flinch.

“Jesus, Alana. Can you not scream?” She shook her head, trying to clear the ringing in her ears. “And you say that with such amazement. I wasn’t a virgin, you know.”

She stopped at the elevator and jabbed the call button repeatedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waited. Hopefully, the early hour would mean she wouldn’t have to walk past many people in a dress that was barely decent for a cocktail party, let alone breakfast.

“I know but it’s exciting. You’re getting past your...”

“Mental deformities?”

Pause. “Trust concerns.”

Quinn rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that sounds a whole lot better.”

“So who is he?”

“A designer for Ricochet Studios.” Quinn drew her bottom lip between her teeth. “Kind of cool that I slept with a guy who worked on ‘Slayer’s Faith.’”

Alana snorted. “I could make so many jokes right now.”

“Don’t. And, before you ask, no, I’m not going to see him again.”

Alana sighed. “I get it. Baby steps. Where are you, anyway?”

“I’m still at the hotel.”

“Me, too.” A sly laugh came through the line. “You’re not the only dirty birdie here. I’ll meet you downstairs in a few minutes and then we can head to my place.”

Alana’s was only a short walk away. She could shower and change and be at the office in forty-five minutes tops. “Any chance I can borrow something to wear to work?”

“Of course.”

Quinn stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. Mercifully, the doors closed and no one else had joined her. “See you in a minute.”

Dropping the phone into her bag, she sagged against the elevator. Drained. Her whole body thrummed with satisfaction but a monster coffee was required to put her in good form. The new guy was starting today, and she would make damn sure her manager knew what a mistake he’d made not choosing her.

Whoever this guy was, he would not show her up.