He spreads me a little farther open, his big body hunched between my legs, his shoulders bunched up as he keeps his head between my legs. He’s toying with my sex lips. I feel his hand coming to cup my sex with so much tenderness that it hurts my heart. He inserts two fingers inside me as he cups one breast with his hand and raises his head to look up at me.
My breasts are moving up and down with my harsh breaths. Almost begging for his attention, one of them covered by his palm. The other so lonely and puckered it hurts.
I bite my lower lip discreetly, my eyes meeting his for a fraction of a second—and I’m able to see the total pleasure in his eyes of seeing me undone like this, completely helpless. I want to have the energy to pull him closer, to ravage this man, but I can’t move one whit, because I’m undone seeing him like this too. Along with the pleasure in his eyes, I see heat—heat that this is doing shit to him, that he’s thought of this too.
He stands back over me, leans over, and brushes his lips over mine, and I groan and feel myself go lax beneath him as he slides two fingers between my legs, all while kissing me—slow and thorough—his other hand tweaking my nipple in a move that I’d assume should be a little painful but is actually so pleasurable I arch and gasp, my gasp only inviting his tongue to keep working me into a frenzy. He roams his tongue in my mouth as his fingers move, one inch, two inches, three, four…in and out, slowly, priming me.
My hands grip his hard shoulders. My legs twine around his hips, even as he remains dressed from the waist down.
I start to kiss him back with all the passion I kept hidden for so many years. This man kissing me is the only man who makes me nervous. Makes me babble. Makes me afraid. Makes me excited. Makes me want.
There are the kinds of things that you don’t choose—they just happen, sometimes with people you don’t want to react to as fiercely as you do. Christos has always been mine. My what if, and also my why him.
Right now he’s the center of my universe. His nearness all I know. And that gold sea of desire in his eyes as he tears free to look down at me questioningly, as if he can’t believe I’m so fucking hungry. It’s the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen in a man.
He grabs my dress and pulls it over my head.
Groaning, out of control, I duck my head and nuzzle my nose as he rains kisses on my stomach.
They’re not sweet kisses, not really. They have so much tongue and teeth: nips, gentle bites, hungry licks.
“Aaric, I want to see you too,” I groan.
He shushes me by nudging my legs farther apart and looking straight at me. Looking at me there. At the tingly, aching spot he just kissed with wicked intimacy. His eyes cool and assessing and at the same time hot and reverent.
He presses a simple kiss to my curls.
I buck from the pleasure, and he leans forward again and flicks his warm, slow, lovely tongue out to taste me again.
Colors begin dancing behind my eyelids.
I tense up as an orgasm starts building, surprising me.
He stands then, and takes my arms and lays them against the wall, rocking his clothed hips against my naked body, his hard cock, covered only by his slacks, against my bare sex.
All while he lowers and gives my mouth the biggest fucking of its life.
I go off the next instant with a soft cry, Christos rocking against me as I do, his mouth and hands and strength all I know as he growls and comes with me, the dampness seeping from his pants and against my wet sex.
As the waves start dissipating, I become aware of how we stand—me naked, him just shirtless and tattooed, his slacks damp from the rain, my hair tangled, my whole body still shuddering in aftershocks.
I laugh, and his laugh is rich and deep as he chuckles too, brushing my hair back with one hand.
He drives me home and walks me to my door. Sara’s in the kitchen and obviously catches on quickly enough when she sees him.
“You’re welcome to stay, Christos,” Sara tells him as we walk into the living area.
“He was on his way out. My boss has a big dick. I mean, my boss is an absolute dick. I need my rest.”
Sara’s eyes widen, Christos just laughs.
He leans over. “I’m not your boss, but when you need someone to boss you in bed—call me.” He winks.
“You’re right, you’re my business partner. You offered up the dough.”
“Maybe you should offer me a nightcap.”
“Christos, come on, my roommate is here…”
“To my disadvantage,” he agrees, his eyes darkening. “Goodnight, bit.”
“Goodnight, Aaric.”
The door shuts, and I raise my hand to Sara. “Don’t ask.”
“I have to!” she complains as she follows me to my room. “Are you two…?”
I throw myself down on my bed. “You dared me to go after what I wanted.”
“So?”
“So I am,” I say, giddy as I hug my pillow and laugh. “Sara, I can’t even deal with myself right now,” I groan, flipping to my back and staring up at the ceiling, seeing his face as I came for him, his face as he came in his pants with me. The sexiest expression imaginable on his sexy-as-fuck face.
Bryn
We’re testing the software in the basement of the office warehouse. I pull my chair closer to the desk and keep my eyes on the computer screen as the developer clicks a few commands on the keyboard.
We wait.
And there it is, the House of Sass software loads and opens to the home screen.
The logo looks gorgeous, in a sleek, simple font and a subtle gray color. The background is white and modern, with just a tiny bit of violet shade in both O’s of the name.