Page 41 of Kiss and Make Love

He ran his hands through my hair, placing it to one side and exposing my skin to his hungry mouth. I moaned as he kissed from my neck to my collarbone. Roughly shoving down one strap of my dress, he exposed my breast. He pushed me against the far wall of the landing, mouth on my peaked nipple.

“You liked how I touched you in the elevator.” A statement, not a question, rumbled from his tantalizing mouth.

“Yes,” I exhaled, my heart racing. I’d never been so turned on before.

James’ gaze found mine, intense with need. “Should I touch you again, Layla?”

I nodded. Our bodies and mouths crashed together. His tongue found mine, and I opened to him with feverish intent, drunk on the cinnamon taste of him. I ran my palms down his sculpted chest and made my way to his belt.

“No,” he growled, turning me to face the wall. “We can get to me later.” Lifting my hands, he pressed them against the rough surface. “Keep them there, or I’ll stop.”

He slid the soft hem of my dress up my thighs as his touch continued to roam. “Fuck, Layla. No underwear?” he hissed.

“Easy access,” I purred.

He ran a finger through my wet slit before pushing inside of me, stretching me, feeling me, possessing me. I squirmed as he stoked the fire that had been burning in me for days, never quite satisfied by my own caress.

“Give me more, James.”

He placed me on the stairs leading to the next floor. The rough concrete scraped against my bare skin and back, but I didn’t care. Fully exposed to him, he plunged back into me with two fingers. My head angled back as a sweeping sense of pleasure radiated through my body.

“Anyone could walk in on us. Anyone could see you spread out for me, riding my fingers,” he whispered in my ear. “Does that turn you on?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

Adding his thumb on my clit, he began gently circling, learning how I responded to his touch. He tongued my nipple and smothered my breast with his mouth.

“You feel so fucking good in my mouth. I can’t wait to taste every part of you,” he groaned.

Lost in the thrill of him, I didn’t register the distinctive sound of a door opening and closing until the latch click echoed through the stairwell. Coming to my senses, I started to sit up. “James, I think someone is coming.”

“You?” He didn’t miss a beat, a smug smile on his faultless face.

“James!” I hissed, swatting at his shoulder.

He kissed my lips, soft and slow. “If you don’t want to be caught, you better stay quiet.”

I nodded, lying back against the staircase with my lower lip between my teeth. Staying quiet wasn’t one of my strong suits. I could already feel the tremble in my legs as he licked up my neck and curled his fingers inside me over and over again.

God, the way he played with my clit was perfect—gentle but picking up speed. The shameless bulge in his pants called to me, and I tried to palm it.

“I said we’d get to me later.” He grabbed my wrist and brought it to the back of his neck. “Behave, or I’ll call out to the strangers down the stairs.”

“Okay, okay. Later,” I murmured.

His thumb moved faster on my clit, and I saw stars. The fingers inside me rocked at a pace that had me squeezing my legs together.

“Do you hear that?” a woman’s voice rang out from below, echoing off the concrete walls.

A loaded pause filled the air, and James pressed a hand over my mouth to keep me silent. The first waves of my orgasm rolled through my body, knowing we might be caught. I bucked against him. My need to voice the euphoria rushing through me grew stronger. Keeping quiet was one of the most trying things I’d ever freaking done.

“Hmm?” questioned another voice. “No, I don’t hear anything. We’re running late, come on.” The door clicked closed from the floor below.

James removed his hand from my mouth and fingered me through the rest of my orgasm. Unable to contain myself anymore, I cried out. The final rumbles cascaded through my body, and he watched my face, enraptured.

“Such a pretty fucking picture.” His gaze met my own, and he pressed his lips to mine while I lifted from the fog of my ecstasy, breath slowing, finding myself again. “Hungry?”

I giggled, pulling my dress back down over my legs and up over my breasts. “Starving.”

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