Page 36 of Devilry

Soft and pliable, his lips effortlessly meld into mine. The perfect contradiction to the way the hard planes of our bodies press into one another. My hands settle around either side of his neck, relishing the way his pulse flutters under my touch. A frantic rhythm that matches my heart beat.

I hold him to me. I hold him close. Hold him tight. Hold him still.

Scared that the magnitude of what we’re doing is going to bury itself between us and force him away from me, I stay frozen. I don’t want time to pass, or even our lips to move, because then I won’t have to deal with the very high likelihood of Elijah coming to his senses and walking away from me.

A second hand joins the one on my chest, offering the slightest amount of pressure. Encouraging me. Calling to me.

He wants this.

Taking the small but significant contact as all the permission I need, I decide to start this moment over. Pulling back, I take one last look at him, ensuring the want is still written on his face.

It’s there.

The tip of his tongue peeks out, wetting his bottom lip, inviting me in. Without hesitation, I greedily take his mouth, hard and hungry. The way I’ve wanted to since the day I laid eyes on him.

The loud groan at the back of Elijah’s throat vibrates against my palms as our mouths collide. He takes hold of the collar of my button-down, forcefully returning the kiss. Showing me he wants this just as much as I do.

Itching for more of him, my tongue plunges into his mouth, seeking his out. Fervently, he opens up, greeting me with strokes of appreciation and enjoyment. With a delicious hint of butterscotch, he tastes as sweet and innocent as I expected.

The kiss deepens, the caress of our tongues spurring on both of our desires. We fall into an unexpected rhythm of strength and desperation, our bodies now so close, even air couldn’t get in between. Wanting to feel more of him, but not wanting to scare him, I let my hands slowly fall from his neck, down his body, settling them softly on his ass.

I grind his erection against mine, over and over till we’re practically dry humping on my office door. With every arousing stroke, a little voice in the back of my head tells me it’s wrong. Even if every single touch feels right, this is soverywrong. I contemplate moving, but then he whimpers into my mouth, and I become a glutton for punishment. The noise has me ravaging his mouth with renewed vigor, wanting to hear it again, wanting proof that I’m the only person responsible for that sound.

He moves his hands from my chest, up past my shoulders, and sinks them into my hair. He grips at the strands, and somehow everything feels a little more frantic than before. Slightly shifting, I bend my knees and move my hands to the back of his thighs. With our lips still glued to one another, I manage to raise him off the floor and instinctively he wraps his legs around my waist, just like I wanted.

Our hips are now bucking, and I have to stop myself from slamming him into the door. I'm certain the overwhelming sensations, coupled with the rush from our predicament, will have me coming in my pants in no time.

I try to still his hips as I pull my lips away, our breaths loud and labored.

“Fuck, Eli,” I groan. “I'm so hard for you right now.”

“Elijah,” he pants. “I like it when you call me Elijah.”

“Do you now?” I grin.

“Don't look so smug.” He presses his lips to mine and the initiation takes me by surprise.

He rubs his dick up and down my own, and I begrudgingly pull back.

“I'm going to come in my pants like a fucking teenager if you keep doing that,” I warn.

“I don't care, I am a teenager,” he quips. It's said so flippantly, but the harsh reality hits us both like a freight train.

“Elijah.”

He unlocks his legs from around my waist and I let them drop. Expecting him to grab his bag and leave, I'm surprised when he rests his head on my shoulder.

Worried he's internally berating himself, I wrap my arms around him protectively and speak directly into his ear. “Elijah, we can pretend this never happened. I told you I would be professional and I went back on my word.” I squeeze him tighter. “I’m the only one in the wrong here. I'm sorry.”

He raises his head, and our similar height has him looking directly into my eyes. “I asked you to kiss me, remember?”

And I'll do it every time you ask.

“Yes, but I should've shown some restraint.” I step back to prove my point. “I'm not the teenager, after all.”

“I didn't mean to say it. It just came out, and now I've ruined the best kiss I’ve ever had.” His emotion filled eyes widen as he slaps his mouth with his hand. “Pretend you didn't hear that.”

Despite the dire circumstances, I smirk. “Not a chance.”

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