Unbreakable (City Lights, #2)(31)

I clung to him until I found my legs. Then my hands tangled in his soft hair, cupped his strong jaw, confused as to what to touch first, wanting to touch every part of him all at once. I pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and let my hands trail down the broad plains of his chest, down, over his abdomen, to the edge of his shirt. I lifted it enough to slip my hands beneath, and heat rushed between my thighs to feel the taut ridges of his abdomen—smooth, soft skin over hard muscle.

He groaned into my mouth, and his hands surged into my hair, tore free the pins that held it. He broke away to watch, with slack-jawed awe, as it fell loose around my shoulders.

“God, Alex…So beautiful. So f*cking beautiful…”

Another rush between my legs at the words, at the look in his eyes as he drank me in. And then his mouth was on mine again, his hands making fists in my hair, sending shivers of electricity down my spine as his mouth worked over my exposed throat, nipping and sucking. I whimpered at every touch. He wanted me, and god, it had been so long since I’d been wanted. But it had never been like this. Not with Drew. Not with any man.

He stripped off my suit jacket, and his hands went under my blouse, to my breasts, which ached for want of touch. I gasped as he rolled the ball of his thumb over one nipple through the lace bra, and wished desperately he’d put his mouth there, that I could feel his skin against mine, to be naked with him, but there wasn’t time.

“Hurry,” I urged. “Please...”

With a feral grunt, he hoisted me onto the edge of the desk and roughly pushed up my skirt so it rode over my hips. Blindly, frantically, my hands found the button and zipper on his jeans. I slipped my hand inside and moaned softly. He was huge and iron hard, but he grabbed my hand before I could stroke him, his forehead pressed to mine, his voice haggard with want.

“No condom.”

“I have an IUD,” I said. “And it doesn’t matter anyway. We might die tomorrow.”

“You’re not going to die,” he whispered fiercely. “I told you, I won’t let them hurt you. No matter what it takes. I swear it.”

It was an impossible promise to make but the intensity behind Cory’s words shook me to my core. “No more talk, Cory. Just touch me. Please. Touch me everywhere.”

I saw hesitancy in his eyes then. His innate decency wondering if I were too scared to know if this was what I really wanted.

I held his face in my hands. “I’ve never wanted anything in my life more than I want this. Right here. Right now. With you.”

He held my gaze a moment more, and I could see the heat rush to erase all doubt, all hesitancy. He captured my lips in a kiss that rekindled the fire into a roaring inferno, and I surrendered to it completely.

Cory’s hands slid up my thighs and then back down, taking my black satin panties with them. When the panties slipped to my ankles, I kicked them off along with my shoes. Desperate to touch him, I pushed his jeans and boxers down and stroked the hard length of him as his hands went around behind me, grabbed me roughly, to haul me to the edge of the desk. He thrust my legs apart with his knees, and I immediately wrapped them around his waist. I expected he would drive into me—he was poised and god, I was ready—but he broke our kiss, his dark eyes boring into me, his hands holding my face tenderly.

“Alexandra…”

I inhaled raggedly as he rolled his hips forward, achingly gentle and slow in this moment. He slid into me and I clutched his shoulders, arched my back to take him all in. He held me partially upright with one strong arm around my waist, bracing himself on the desk with the other. Then he began to move.

Not gentle, not anymore, he was aggressive as hell. Rough, but not fumbling, and—oh god—it was everything I’d been waiting for, everything I’d been missing. Every part of him was big and thick and heavy, and I clung to him as the deep pressure filled me with unimaginable sensations. Places I could never reach on my own came alive as he moved. So often, I’d had to create my own pleasure and for so long I’d had to convince myself it was enough. But my own ministrations were pitiful by comparison to what Cory was doing to me.

I bit his shoulder to silence my cries, and he grunted and moved faster, driving into me with an animal ferocity, every muscle of his glorious body feeding his need. I could feel him tense, ready to surrender to me, to my body, which was wrapped around his in every way. But he held back until wave after rolling wave of pleasure coursed through me until I’d lost count of how many, bringing the most intense ecstasy I’d ever felt to every part of my body. I nearly wept for all I had missed, but the pleasure crested and left room for nothing else.

I kept my legs wrapped tight around Cory’s slender waist and my mouth strove to touch his, to share his breath to the end. The last few thrusts were hard and slow and so very deep. Then he shuddered with the power of his own climax and collapsed on top of me, his breath gusting over my neck.

I held him there with arms and legs, reveling in the ebbing passion. A fire had roared and what remained were glowing embers I wished I could savor…or stoke anew. I wondered, if he could do this to me in ten minutes, what could he do with twenty? An hour?

What could he do if we had all night?

Reluctantly, Cory lifted himself off of me and from inside me, and just as reluctantly I let him go. The cool air and emptiness swooped in, and I quickly moved off the desk. I cleaned myself from the box of tissues on the desk, my back to him. I found my underwear and slipped it back on, my shoes, then my jacket. I smoothed my skirt, my rumpled blouse, and then my hair. When I turned, Cory had pulled his jeans back on and buttoned them, the expression on his face uncertain, grim, as if dark thoughts were haunting him.