Page 21 of Keeping London (Flawed Heart)

“Yeah, whatever.” She waves her free hand through the air in a motion of nonchalance.

We quickly head down the hallway toward the back of a large room that hosts some of the art pieces. Sneaking down the empty hallway, we pass what seem to be offices. London checks each door, but they’re all locked.

We turn another corner, and at the end of a narrow hall is an exit door. As we get closer, we notice a door beside the exit. London twists the handle, and it opens. It appears to be a janitor’s closet. Against the far wall are cleaning supplies, a mop, and a bucket. Along the left side is a workbench that—save for a couple of tools, which we hurriedly push to the side—is clean.

“Best part? The door locks,” London says with a huge grin as she turns the deadbolt.

The moment she turns back around, I crash my mouth against hers. Threading my hands through her curly locks, I pull her closer. She opens her mouth on a groan, and my tongue hastily enters. We kiss with reckless abandon. Tongues tasting. Hands feeling. Mouths moaning. Bodies shaking with desire.

My entire body vibrates with intense need.

That’s the entirety of it right there. I need London—mind, body, and soul. Forever.

I love everything about her, even the things I shouldn’t. I find her spoiled nature—though she’s become less so as we’ve gotten to know each other—cute somehow. I love her witty personality and the way she always keeps me on my toes. Instead of pissing me off, like it should, the way she always challenges me turns me on like no one else ever has. I’ve become addicted to the way in which she loves me. Her love invades my body every day, filling me with a happiness that I’ve never known.

And this, right here, the way our bodies come together as if they were always meant to, as if they were the two opposing halves in a two-piece puzzle, I’ve never experienced anything close to the way I feel when I’m with London.

God, I love her.

“I need you, baby,” I say gruffly between panting, raw breaths, my palms now grasping her hips.

“You have me,” she says breathlessly against the skin of my neck.

As she licks from the collar of my shirt to my jaw, I grab ahold of the zipper at her side and slowly pull down. She shimmies the dress off until it falls at her feet. She stands before me in a strapless bra and a thong, looking like she stepped straight out of my dreams. I unclasp her bra and let it fall to the ground. My pulse leaps when she pushes down her red lacy thong.

I clear my throat. “Hell yes, this is exactly how I want you.” My eyes scan her perfect naked body.

She gives me a sexy smirk as she unzips my dress pants. Pushing my boxers and pants down to my thighs, she fists my dick. “And this is how I want you—in your tux, the only bare part being the one that’s going to be inside me.”

I thread my fingers through London’s hair once more, my mouth moving in a frenzy across her neck. I kiss down her body, paying attention to all her soft and sensitive parts. She moans as her back falls against the closet door behind her. Falling to my knees, I grab one of her ankles, right above where the strap of her high heel buckles. Lifting her leg, I bring it up until it’s draped over my shoulder, allowing me precise access to what I want to taste the most. My tongue moves languidly against her opening. She groans, grasping at my hair with one hand, while she digs her fingers into my shoulder with her other hand to steady herself.

“Loïc…” Her voice sounds almost pained as my name comes from her lips.

“I got you.” My tongue continues its assault alternating with my lips that suck gently. Using two fingers, I enter her and rub against her front wall.

London’s body starts to quiver. She lets her head fall back against the door as breathy moans fill the small space. She begins wildly bucking her hips while forcefully pulling my hair.

“Oh God, Loïc, yes.Loïc…” The second time she says my name, it’s more of a cry as her entire body starts to shake.

I continue to lick softly as her trembles slow. When she’s finished, I take her leg from my shoulder and place her foot back on the ground. I kiss up her body until I’m facing her. Her eyes aren’t completely focused as she lets out long breaths.

“Good?” I inquire smugly.

“The best,” she sighs out.

I grab the bottom of her ass cheeks and pull her up. She wraps her legs around my back. My lips find hers as I guide myself into her entrance. We moan collectively as I fill her completely. Digging my fingers into her ass, I start moving. She’s warm and wet and so fucking amazing.

I ravage her mouth, my tongue almost mimicking the movements below. I pound into her with a hot, fiery abandon, as if I can’t get enough. And I can’t. It’s never hard enough, deep enough, fast enough, or long enough. I always want more with London. Our connection is damn near perfection, and I want more. With her, I’ll always need more.

I bury my face against her neck. I can taste the salt on her damp skin and feel the soft vibrations of her moans against my lips. Her body starts to quake, and I feverishly pound into her. With each thrust, the small space fills with the rhythmic sounds of the door moving against the metal hinges and our cries of pleasure as we desperately chase our release. London finds hers first, and I follow right behind her, groaning low and deep, as my body empties within her warmth.

I hold London against me as we work to calm our breaths.

After a few minutes, she says, “My love of snooty parties isn’t that much of a flaw now, is it?”

“Hell no, especially if they all include fucking like that in a closet.”

“Will you be wearing a tux to all future benefits that we attend?” she asks.

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