Page 60 of Sexting Mr. CEO

"You—need—to—come—again," I snarl.

"Fuck, fuck," she gasps.

"Come for me," I demand.

"Fuck, Luke. Fuck."

I take it as a command, moving with pure abandon. Soon, I feel her muscles tense as her climax ripples through her body, her inner walls pulsing around me. I sink my face into her neck, breathing in her scent, as my release overtakes me.

We hold each other as I soften inside her. I slip out, but I don't let her go, keeping her in my arms. She kisses my cheek, then hugs me tightly.

"Seriously, call me a broken record. But I'm so happy you came to me."

"Me too," I say. "The only thing I regret is letting you go. Never again."

"Luke—"

"Never. Again. Something magical happened to us in Vegas. You changed me, Sparkplug."

"You changed me too."

"No... I just helped you find out who you always were."

"An aspiring member of the mile-high club?"

I chuckle, kissing her neck again. "If we stay like this, with your naked body pressed against mine, there's a chance we'll bedoublemembers."

"So soon?"

"You have no idea how desirable you are, Sera. No idea."

Chapter Twenty-One

Sera

"Are they mad at you?" I ask once Luke has come in from his balcony. We're in his luxurious Los Angeles apartment. This would've felt surreal before we met, but after the helicopter, the restaurant, and the mile-high club induction, I almost feel like I belong.

The sun is setting, the city lights twinkling beyond his tall windows.

"I explained it had something to do with the sabotage, but I didn't elaborate," he says.

I smooth my arms around his shoulders, standing on my tiptoes so that I can look at him eye to eye... oralmosteye to eye, anyway, considering he's so much taller. "You're going to kick this PR stuff in the butt, Luke. You're the best CEO I know."

He smiles at me with a cocked brow. "Aren't I the only CEO you know?"

"Don't get hung up on technicalities."

He laughs and reaches down, scooping his hands behind my legs, lifting me off my feet. I hold onto him tight as he carries me to his leather corner couch. He sits down with me in his lap. I look up at him, feeling intoxicated by his proximity.

"You must be tired," he says, gliding his hand over my hair.

"I am," I admit. "But I don't want to sleep yet. I want to stay here with you. It feels like a miracle, us being together. And if I sleep..."

"You'll have to think about what happened."

Sometimes, I'm relieved he seems to read my thoughts.

"I don't know which would be worse," I say. "Dreaming about Damien or dreaming about Ellie and Graham."

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