Irresistibly Yours (Oxford #1)(48)

He toyed with her in soft teasing touches before dipping his head and putting his mouth on her. So obsessed was he with the feel of her beaded nipple against his tongue that he didn’t realize she’d undone his pants until her hand slipped beneath the waistband of his briefs and palmed his cock.

“Fuh-uck,” he said, his head falling back as she stroked him.

He saw the pleased triumph in her eyes, and he let her have her moment. Let her palm torture him for several moments until he was embarrassingly close to coming.

Cole gripped her wrist, tugging her hand away from him, as he swiftly assessed his options. He had a condom—several of them, actually. He’d learned his lesson after last weekend.

His cock hardened at the thought of turning her around, pressing her against the door, and taking her from behind. But logistically speaking, their height difference would make that difficult.

Instead, he tightened his grip on her wrist, pulling her toward the desk. He kissed his way down her body until he knelt in front of her, his hands quickly ridding her of both pants and panties as well as the remaining shoe.

He meant to stand back up. Meant to lift her up onto his desk and bury himself inside her— Instead, he leaned forward and let his tongue find her slit. She gave a sharp cry, and he licked her harder, palming the back of one of her thighs and lifting her leg to the side so she was wide open for him.

Her hands found his head for balance, her nails digging into his hair as his tongue circled her.

Going down on Penelope Pope in his office was definitely going in Cole’s catalog of best erotic memories.

He was damn close to coming in his pants just by licking her. This was madness. Fucking madness.

Cole stood, taking a condom out of his wallet before throwing off his suit jacket. Penelope shoved his pants down around his hips as he freed his cock with his hand and rolled on the condom.

She hopped up onto the desk, slowing spreading her legs and crooking her finger at him. Cole groaned as he stepped closer, positioning himself at her wet entrance. “I thought you said you were no good at this,” he growled.

Her hands found his shoulders. “Guess I just needed to do it with the right guy.”

Her words sent an odd thrill through him, and he rewarded her by sliding into her with a slow, slick thrust.

When he was all the way inside, he rested his forehead against hers, putting her hands around his neck. “Hold on.”

His palms slid down to her ass, pulling her even more tightly around him before he pulled back, and thrust home again, harder this time.

“Jesus,” he whispered, already on the verge of losing it. “You’re so tight. I can’t—”

“Hard and fast,” she whispered against his ear.

Cole needed no further encouragement. He slid his thumb down to her clit, pressing it in relentless circles as he drove into her at a merciless pace.

Holding off was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life, but he waited. Waited until he heard her cry out, waited until she contracted around him.

Then he let himself go. He came with a soft roar, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder, too damn far gone to let himself be embarrassed by his lack of control.

They clung to each other for long moments after, both of them panting, neither speaking.

It was Penelope who pulled back first, and Cole felt a stab of annoyance when she didn’t meet his eyes.

She scooted off the desk and shot him a quick, embarrassed look before kneeling down to pick up her pants.

No. There would be none of that. No embarrassment.

He knelt beside her, refusing to let either of them be embarrassed by their nakedness or what had just transpired.

He hooked a finger under chin, lifting her eyes to his. “You’re the hottest lay I’ve ever had, Ms. Pope.”

It was the right thing to say. She let out a surprised laugh, but he could tell by the warmth in her eyes that she was pleased with the compliment.

Cole just hoped she knew he meant every damn word.

He handed her clothes to her, then turned slightly so she could dress in some semblance of privacy.

Cole frowned a little as he tugged his own pants back up over his hips, wondering, not for the first time, who or what had made Penelope think she was anything less than a sexy, hot-blooded woman. That Evan bastard back in Chicago?

He wanted to ask her, but it felt like a boyfriend kind of question, and she’d made it perfectly clear she wasn’t looking for one of those.

Great. Fine. He certainly wasn’t in the market for a relationship.

He wasn’t commitment-phobic per se, he just hadn’t yet been in a relationship that wasn’t a hell of a lot more headache than it was worth.

Cole mentally braced himself for Penelope to go skulking out of his office, probably to avoid him for the rest of the day, if not the rest of the week.

But she surprised him. When he turned back around, she was fully dressed, looking completely composed as she scooped her purse off the floor and walked toward his desk.

She set the purse on his chair then went up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Is it slutty if I say thanks?” she asked.

He grinned. “If it is, I like slutty.”

Penelope grinned back at him, then went to unlock the door, swinging it wide open as though nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired.

When she turned back, she smiled her friendly work-Penelope smile at him. “So. Should we review those page layouts?”