Page 39 of Devil In A Suit

“Yes.”

He ties the towel back around his hips and walks ahead of me. I can’t help but stare at the smooth muscles rippling on his back. It’s infuriating how much that one strip of cloth can hide. I think I actually loathe it. It covers everything I want to watch.

We enter a sparklingly spotless white kitchen and I see him head straight to the refrigerator and open it. After my lastfaux pas,I decide to keep my mouth firmly shut and just enjoy the cookery show.

Chapter Twenty-Five

IVAN

Ipull open the refrigerator, one I’ve never seen the inside of since I bought this place, and realize I haven’t cooked in years. Shaking my head, I skim over the neatly arranged containers of food. I don’t even know where anything is. Pasta will probably be in the pantry. Garlic is probably in one of the lower drawers. Parsley. Where would I find that?

I turn around and call her over. She comes over to join me. We are both quite the picture, I imagine—her in that sinful red outfit and me in my towel. Right on the edge, yet both of us keep to ourselves.

She lifts her gaze to look at me, there is a teasing quality to her face. “You don’t know where anything is, do you?”

“Nope.”

“I’m kinda still into peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

“Right. There should be a jar somewhere in the pantry.”

“Sure,” she repeats, walking over to retrieve it.

My eyes devour her as she walks away. When she reaches the door of the pantry she turns to look at me. I don’t speak, butshe instinctively understands exactly what I’m saying. There’s no mistaking what I want.

Slowly, deliberately, her eyes move down to my naked torso. Seconds pass, but her gaze continues to linger. That’s invitation number one. Then I see the outline of her nipples pressing against the silky fabric of her gown like two little unsatisfied stones. And that there, that’s invitation number two.

Fuck it. I don’t hold back anymore.

In an instant, she is in my arms again, but this time there’s no resistance. She melts like butter against my body.

My craving hands glide down her curves, hating the thin barrier of fabric between us. I cup her ass, feeling the firm swell of it under my palms. My entire body burns with anticipation and desire, a raw need that feels impossible to contain. My towel comes loose and pools at my feet. I let her feel exactly how much I want her, how hard she makes me.

I reach between her thighs and through her soaking wet panties, find the throbbing heat of her. My fingers press against it. She gasps into my mouth and jerks back at my touch, her breath quickening, her mouth open, as if in shock. Clearly, she’s startled by the way her body responds to me. Shaking her head in disbelief, she takes a few steps away. She is trying to put distance between us, but it’s futile. The pull is undeniable. Even she knows that now.

I watch her retreat until her back hits the counter, trapping her, then I make my slow measured approach. Sliding my hand around her neck, I pull her in for another kiss and consume the soft, peachy sweetness of her lips. My tongue slips into her mouth, exploring and tasting the desire building between us. Kissing her makes me feel like I’m losing myself, almost unraveling. Layer by layer. Like a fucking onion.

I can’t get enough of her, and it seems neither can she. I feel her arms circle my torso, her hands sliding across my bare skinlike an electric charge. The sensation is intoxicating, and as her hand moves lower, I feel her brush against my cock, making me shudder with pleasure.

My body is telling me to take her hard and fast, but something about this moment forbids me to do that. It’s a crazy notion for me, but this is… too special. I don’t want to rush it. The plan is to let this beautiful tension keep on building and savor every second of it. Letting the strange and wonderful magic of her unfold naturally, taking each moment as it comes.

I cup her ass, pull her flush against me, and grind into her until I hear the moan that she has been desperately trying to hide, escape out of her mouth. It is a sound of pure need and it shoots through me, igniting a fire I can barely control.

Fuck control!

Like a wild animal, I rip her delicate nightie down the middle. Underneath, she is naked but for a tiny scrap of lace. Her body is smooth and creamy. Like a porcelain statue, or a lost goddess. She is every bit as beautiful as I imagined. I want to taste her everywhere until she is a shivering, begging mess in my hands. I look directly into her eyes. I want her to see that I know exactly what she’s fighting.

I feel the smoothness of her skin as my hand slides up her inner thigh and I find her slick sex again. My fingers trace her soft folds through the drenched lace.

Her eyes widen.

Slowly, I rub the bud of her clit through the fabric. It’s impressively swollen… undeniably aching, begging for attention. I tease it, circling and pressing, feeling her body jump and twitch beneath my touch. Her breath comes out in ragged gasps, and when I find just the right spot her eyes flutter downwards, and she lets out a moan so long and sweet that it makes my head spin.

I continue to stroke her, my fingers working her in slow, rhythmic motions, building her up until her entire body shudders violently.

“Oh God!” The words spill from her lips as she collapses against me while her hands grip my shoulders, and frantically pull me closer.

I kiss her deeply, and she responds in kind. She needs this as badly as I do. Her body presses against mine with a hunger as rabid as my own. As our tongues clash, I know that if I keep going, I’ll have her coming here and now, pinned against the kitchen counter.

---