Chapter Seven

It’s a light touch, one I should barely feel but one I feel prickling all over my skin. The kiss is slow and sweet, and my hand betrays me by finding his shirt and fisting the material.

“Yep, this is very unprofessional.”

Ivan grabs my thigh and spins me to face him. With one hand in my hair and the other grasping my hip, he lowers his mouth to mine once more.

His lips work mine forcefully, sweeping me away to a place where I can’t think of the fact that I’m kissing a man I was never supposed to ever see again. His kiss is intoxicating, smothering me with desire and need.

And need is bad. Need is very, very bad, but no one tells my hands this as they find the bottom of his shirt. I tug at it lightly, and he grazes his teeth over my bottom lip.

“I thought this was unprofessional?” he whispers in amusement.

Oh, fvck this. “We’re not working.”

He laughs, a rich sound, and releases me to remove his shirt. I trail my fingers down his lightly sculpted body until they rest on his belt. The dent in his pants clearly shows his erection, and I reach out. I brush my hand across it, letting my fingers curl around its hardness. He hisses in a breath, grabs my arms, and pulls me to standing.

His arms go around me in a way that means I’m unable to move, and he kisses me once again. Whatever restraint he was holding just moments ago is gone as he tugs me across the room, his tongue exploring my mouth, and leans me back onto the bed.

“It’s so very hard to take photos of a woman when you can remember exactly how she tastes,” he whispers, kissing down my neck. “And it’s damn near fucking impossible when that taste has lingered in your mouth ever since.”

I arch into him as he takes one of my breasts in his hand and massages it lightly. Lightning bolts of desire shoot through my body as he works my bra and unclasps it. Almost immediately, his mouth closes around one of my nipples and he rolls the other between his finger and thumb. The tugging and pulling is an intense feeling, and every muscle in my pussy clenches.

“You’re so responsive, Brenda Tell me”—he nibbles up my neck—“are you wet yet?”

“Why don’t you find out?” I breathe. His mouth finds mine again, and I reach down to his pants to undo them. “Wait. Condom?”

“Pocket,” he says against my mouth.

I reach inside his pocket and put out a foil packet. I tug them down his legs with his boxers using my toes, and Ivan takes the opening angle of my legs as his invitation.

He leans forward, pressing his bare erection against the soft material of my panties. I whimper, pushing into him. This isn’t enough… I need to feel him inside. I need him to dull the ache I feel in my clit.

He opens the condom packet and rolls it onto himself before he hooks his finger in my underwear, touching my clit and moves it to the side. The simple movement exposes my pussy to him, and he runs his fingers along my folds before resting his cock there.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs. “And if I were a patient man, I’d take more advantage of that. As it is…” He pushes into me in one thrust. “I’m not a patient man, I am a hungry man.”

My mouth falls open at the swift way he enters me. I grab his back, and he slides one hand into my hair.

“I’m far too desperate to make you cum and feel your tight pussy around my cock as you do.” With those words, he makes another thrust.

I close my eyes as he finds a rhythm, one that’s fast but not brutal. His long, quick strokes fill me easily, rubbing against the right spot, and I tilt my hips into him. I tighten my legs around his waist, and he reaches around, grabbing my ass and tilting my hips up even more.

His next thrust is deep and powerful, and I cry out. His grip on my hair tightens, making my scalp sting in a way that only heightens the slow build of pressure in my lower stomach.

I’m so focused on him fucking me, how he feels, how he plays my body with the ease of a man who’s touched me a million times, that I don’t see it before it happens. I don’t feel it tip from tight ache to body-shattering pleasure.

The orgasm hits me intensely, trembling my limbs, washing over me in a delicious wave of heat. My heart pounds double time in my chest and I only breathe when Ivan groans into my shoulder, signaling his own release.

My muscles are clenching, working him, drawing it from him. He thrusts slowly a few times, emptying himself fully inside me. I drop my head back to the bed with my eyes closed as I try to calm my breathing.

Ivan tilts my face toward his and kisses me once. “Mm,” is all he says, looking into my eyes.