Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line, #2)(69)

Just as her vision started to swim, Connor walked her back toward the wall, creating an instantaneous clenching in her middle. Lower. He pressed his lips to her forehead and hummed quietly, which she found immensely comforting, although she didn’t know why. Slowly, he molded their bodies together against the wall, letting his lips travel down to nuzzle her ear. “Show me what a brave, sweet girl you are.”

If his goal was to lower her heart rate, this method wasn’t working. Her pulse skyrocketed back to where it had been in the car as they’d kissed. Out of control. Furious. She reached out and held on to the distraction for dear life, knowing he would deliver more. Always more.

He raised his left hand, running his fingers along the seam of her lips. When her lips parted on an inhale, he dipped his middle finger all the way inside and held it there. “Come on, sweetheart. Show me how you sucked me off this morning.”

Erin’s eyelids fluttered, lust wrapping her up in its haze. She kept her gaze fastened on Connor as she drew hard on his finger, wishing it were the real thing. Remembering the way he’d spoken to her this morning, alternating between commanding her to stop and ordering her to never, ever f*cking stop. It had felt different, with his hands on her. In her hair, on her chin, her shoulders. The most intimate act brought only higher.

Now, Connor’s chest rose and fell heavily as he watched her mouth. He took the opposite hand and palmed her breast, making her gasp around his thick finger. Making her suck harder, lips sliding up and down as she silently begged him with her eyes to make contact with her nipple.

“So eager to please, Erin. But it’s my turn.” The hand on her breast trailed down over her rib cage, stopping at the spot just below her belly button. Without warning, he used the heel of that hand to pin her back against the wall, then began to massage slow, tight circles inches above her needy core. Erin moaned around his finger, the sound bouncing off the steel interior of the elevator. “Does my cock hit you here when we f*ck, sweetheart?”

She nodded her head frantically, letting her teeth graze the inner flesh of his finger. A muscle in his jaw jumped in response. She’d never seen his green eyes sharper, more alert. Being preyed upon would have scared her once upon a time. Now she found herself yearning for it.

Stalk me.

He groaned low in his throat as her tongue got involved. “Good girl. Show me how well you suck me with that wet, hungry mouth.”

The rhythmic massage he was performing against her lower belly was building something undeniable inside her. For what felt like the tenth time today, she squeezed her thighs together and rubbed, unsure if she wanted to lessen the ache or cater to it. If only he would go lower.

Connor’s hand left her belly and started to descend. Erin whimpered a protest as he changed direction, though, smoothing his touch over her hip and splaying his big palm over her bottom. He tightened his fingers in a gesture of ownership, before removing his hand and propping it on the wall behind her. In degrees, he withdrew the finger from her mouth, spreading the moisture across his sculpted lips. His head dipped and he kissed her with such erotic intention that it felt as if his hands were still on her body, feeling their way down and molding her flesh. Her mind reeled under the assault, but he pulled back before she could wrap her legs around his waist and plead to be filled.

His voice was gruff and slightly rueful. “When we got on this elevator, I was going to tell you I’m proud of you. In so many ways. I’m proud of you for what you’ve overcome. Proud of the trust you’ve given me. Proud to call myself your man. Jesus, I’m more than proud of that. I’m goddamn lucky.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “I was going to say all those things, then I looked at you and it all got lost.”

She felt like she’d just lain down in a giant feather bed. Utter happiness teamed with a sense of belonging. “You just said them,” was all she could manage before the elevator doors opened. Connor stepped back, slung an arm around her shoulder and tugged her from the space, looking a little smug when her legs didn’t work as well as they should. They walked onto an enormous open space. Out of habit, she immediately looked for the exit doors, even though that escape would be futile. One hundred and three floors had to be at least one thousand and fifty steps to the street, probably more. As if he sensed her relapse into fear, Connor pulled her protectively into his side.

And then she saw it.

Built into the wall, there was a giant glass window. But it wasn’t an ordinary window. It was a glass box, extending out at least four feet over downtown Chicago. She couldn’t catch her breath as she walked toward it, leaving Connor to follow. The skyline seemed to go on for a million miles before her, piercing blue sky blending together with it on the horizon. She’d never been up this high in her life. Never felt this imminent sensation of free-falling, but it blasted her with the ultimate impression of freedom. A high she’d been seeking without realizing it. This was the escape to end all escapes.

Erin stepped into the glass box and looked down at her feet. No floor. Just air. She looked from side to side. Up. No walls. No ceiling. Tears blurred her vision as her arms seemed to float up all on their own, extending and rising like a bird’s wings. In the back of her mind, she knew it was an illusion, but it was a powerful one. Not a trap in sight. Free. She finally felt free. Like with a single leap, she could land on one of the fluffy white clouds passing by in the breeze and float forever.