Chapter Eighteen
Her body reacted instantly. Viscerally. Her skin heated up, and she swore she was seeing things. To be sure, she slid the chain, unlocked the latch, and drank in the oh-so-welcome sight of Clay standing in the doorway, unknotting his tie, then loosening the top button on his shirt.
She wanted to throw her arms around him. Kiss him hard. Tell him how damn happy she was to see him. She parted her lips to speak. But he was too fast. His hands were on her face, cupping her cheeks, his hot gaze raking over her body from head to toe. “You don’t have heels on.”
“I took them off when I came to the door.”
“Put them on.”
She slipped out of his grip, bent down and slid her feet into her four-inch red pumps. She grew taller as she stood and came face to face with the man she couldn’t forget about. His whole body was ready to pounce, his muscles hard, the vein in his neck throbbing. His stare was dark and intense, and he radiated sexuality. His eyes roamed her body, prowling over her, turning her molten. His hands were clenched at his sides. He took a step closer and cupped her cheeks once more. Her knees nearly buckled; she and Clay were combustible. She wanted him so much, every solitary cell in her body cried out for him. Her skin was ignited, her heart beat in overtime. She watched him swallow, then brush a thumb over her lips. She panted from that single small touch, and nibbled on his thumb.
His eyes rolled back in his head as she bit gently into him. She thrilled at his reaction, at the way he breathed out hard.
When he opened his eyes, he stared at her momentarily, then crushed her lips in a consuming kiss, one that told her he wanted to devour her. That he was hellbent on it. When he broke the kiss, she went first, whispering her desperate need. “Take me,” she said.
“Turn around.”
She bent over her kitchen table, her chest on the metal, her ass in the air where she knew he wanted it. Offering herself to him to be claimed. She peered back, watching as he finished unknotting his tie and yanked it off, then unbuttoned his shirt.
Her chest rose and fell as she watched him, heat pooling between her legs with every move he made. He left his shirt open, and she marveled at his chest, at the hard planes and ridges. Her hand had a mind of its own, and she twisted her arm around to try to touch him. He swatted her hand away, and pushed her tight black shirt up her back, exposing more of her skin, then he ran his hands up and down her spine. He dipped his hand between her legs, sliding a finger across her swollen lips.
“Oh,” she cried out, her eyes falling closed, and her mouth forming a perfect O.
“Have you been touching yourself?” he asked, sounding like a lawyer in a courtroom. She was a willing witness, eager to be cross-examined.
“No,” she said and he rubbed his fingers over her once more, drawing out a needy moan. She rocked her ass back against him. He raised his hand, and her breath caught, knowing what was coming. Her eyes widened as he brought his hand to her cheek, a sharp sting radiating across her rear.
He bent down to brush his soft lips against her flesh, and she whimpered as he soothed out the sting with his tongue. He slipped his hand between her legs again, sending sparks of heat throughout her body. “You haven’t touched yourself once since I saw you?”
She shook her head. “No, I swear. I knew I’d only think of you if I did and it would make me crazy not to have you.” He thrust a finger inside her, and she saw stars as he flicked her * with his thumb. “So you saved it all for me?”
“Yes,” she panted.
“Good. Because I’m going to take it all. I want it all.”
He took his hand away, raising it again and she quivered, knowing he was going to smack her once more. She craved the sharp sweet mix of pleasure and pain, and this time the smack was followed by his fingers gliding between her legs, as he rubbed her where she wanted him most.
“I’ve haven’t touched myself either, Julia,” he said as he began unzipping his pants. “You know what that means?”
“What does that mean?” she said as he pushed his briefs down, freeing his enormous erection. Her lips parted at the sight of his cock – thick, hard and throbbing. She wanted him so badly. Wanted all of him. He gripped his cock, stroking himself up and down. She watched, mesmerized, as a low moan escaped her.
“It means I’ve been rock hard since you left me. I’ve been walking around New York City at full f*cking mast thinking of you and not doing a damn thing about it for the same reason,” he said, dragging the head of his cock against her wet p-ssy lips. Sweet agony sang in her body, as she tried to rock back into him, to draw him into her body, awash with neverending lust. “I didn’t want to think about you because you were all I was thinking about already,” he said, as he reached into his pocket for a condom, tore open the wrapper and rolled it on.
“It was the same for me.” She could hear the desperation in her own voice. She needed this so much, not just the physical connection that burned hot between them. But she needed him. This man, the way he made her feel inside and out. He’d touched something so deep inside of her, a part she’d kept hidden and well-protected. But he was there, working his way around the fortress of her hardened heart, and she wanted all of him. She could not be more grateful that he’d shown up tonight – the first clear evidence that maybe her luck was changing. “I kept thinking about you too. I want you so much.”
“I want you too.” He bent over her body, laying his chest over her as he rubbed his hard length against her entrance. “And I hated the way you left me.”
“I hated it too,” she said as she writhed against him, struggling to guide him into her. He gripped her wrists over her head, pinning her on the table.
“Julia,” he rasped out, grazing his mouth along the column of her throat, eliciting a desperate groan from her. “I have to tell you something.”
“Yes?” She asked, breathing hard, her back arching, her body molding to his.
He pulled back to look her in the eyes. His voice was ragged. “I’m crazy about you, but right now I’m going to f*ck you like I hate you. I need to f*ck you angrily but don’t forget this, I’m crazy for you.”
She bit her lip, desire coursing through her like a shooting star speeding across the sky. “I’m crazy for you,” she murmured, but the last word was swallowed as he thrust into her, filling her in one quick move.
She moaned loudly and closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his hard, hot length inside her. God, he felt amazing, stretching her. He began to pump. Hard, fast, rough. Just like he’d promised. Her breasts were smashed against the kitchen table, and she didn’t care that they hurt. She welcomed the hurt. The way every part of her body felt him. Her legs shook as he drove into her, her wrists twinged with his rough grip, her cheek throbbed with how she was pressed hard against the unforgiveable metal surface. But with each thrust, she took him in deeper, her heat rising. She grew wetter with every punishing stroke, needing terribly for him to f*ck all the stress, all the problems, all the troubles out of her life right now.
“Harder,” she urged, and she was rewarded with a slam.
“Be careful what you wish for,” he said roughly against her ear.
“I like it like this. I’m not regretting it.”
“Don’t ever regret me,” he said, his stubbled jaw rubbing against her cheek.
“Never,” she said in between pants. She raised her ass higher. “Touch me,” she said, and she sounded like she begging, but she knew he’d like that sound.
“You want me to touch your *?” he asked as he pounded into her.
“Yes, please.”
“Good. I like how you asked nicely for it,” he said, letting go of her wrists. He stood behind her now, ramming hard, as he held her hip with one hand, the other hand reaching between her legs to rub her *. The second he made contact, she shrieked in pleasure.
“Yes.”
It was all she could say. All she could manage. She shouted yes over and over as he pounded into her, taking her body, taking it back for him, claiming her with the hard, rough, f*cking she wanted. His finger raced across her swollen *, hitting her at just the right pace, just the right friction until the world spun away, and everything blurred out but the unholy pleasure that rang through her body. Her climax rushed over as she tore past the brink. He was there with her, gripping her hips, plunging deeper, unleashing himself in her, until he collapsed on her.
She breathed out hard, panting, like she’d just run a race. Then his lips were on her neck, kissing her softly, gently, as he mapped her with his mouth. “I’m so crazy about you,” he whispered, and though her body was hot from their crazy coming together, her heart flooded with warmth too from his words.
“I feel the same, Clay. Exactly the same,” she murmured, turning her head so he could dust her mouth with his lips.
He pulled out, tossed the condom in the trash can, and returned to her. He lifted her spent body from the table, where she was still splayed out, awash in the aftershocks, and he carried her to her bedroom. He laid her down on the bed, walked to the bathroom, grabbed some tissues and brought them to her. She cleaned up, and handed them to him to dispose of.
When he returned once more he scanned her bedroom, and she wasn’t sure if he was going to stay the night here or not. Nerves raced through her, as she wondered what he would do next.