Dirty Bad Boys Box Set: Forbidden Romance Collection
She runs her hands down my arms, gripping onto my biceps as she pulls herself down. Even now, after all is done, her simple touch is melting away at me. Her legs shake while she tries to maintain her balance, latching onto me again for support.
I reach down and pull my pants up, leaving my belt unbuckled. After all, I expect her back here as soon as her meeting is over. Then, the real fun will begin.
She makes a dash to the bathroom to grab some tissues. After cleaning herself up, she straightens her dress and fixes her hair. I walk to where she’s standing and position myself behind her back. Our images reflect in the mirror, and as if my heart has completely fallen out of my chest, I know only one thing.
This feels right.
She breaks my gaze and latches onto the door handle. I reach out for her arm, pulling her into me one more time.
“Are we okay?”
The silence falls between us, worrying me that something’s wrong. As the panic begins to build, she traces the bottom of my jaw. Her lips, swollen and pouty, curve upward into a dreamy smile.
“Noah,” she asserts, rolling her tongue, seducing me with only the call of my name. “We’re more than okay.”
Chapter Eighteen
Morgan
He has no clue what he’s done to me.
And I hate myself.
For wanting him.
For desiring every part of him.
The moment he stepped into my office, I saw my former self. The person I used to be before I allowed myself to be burdened with the weight that rested on other people’s shoulders. I tried to resist him, but his cocky attitude got the best of me. His presence alone, sitting across the desk the first time we met, stirred this buried emotion—desire.
A muscular build hidden behind this perfectly fitted navy suit. Tall, with hair styled modern and slicked to the side accentuating his strong jawline. And although my body instantly craved to touch him, it was his deep blue eyes that had me drowning and begging for a life jacket.
But I have a bad habit of screwing guys and walking away. Or at least, I used to.
Noah Mason is a wrecking ball. Taking me along with him, even though every part of me tried to push him away.
And then, without any warning, he fucked me. Against the door, hard and full of grunt. In less than ten minutes he’d done things to me that I’ve never experienced in this lifetime. He’s opened the doors and freed Violet Winters—a woman caged and living in the shadows of her famous sister.
I manage to wrap up the meeting without too much trouble. Jacque offered me a nightcap in his room which I kindly refuse.
I know Noah has difficulty expressing his emotions, but he plays the part of a jealous man to a T.
The question remains—do I go back up to Noah’s room or not?
For minutes, I sit at the bar contemplating my next move. Wondering how I find myself here. Why life chooses to throw this giant curveball at me, as if I don’t have enough on my plate.
And then there are no more questions.
I quickly find myself outside his door, knocking, and the moment he opens it wearing only a towel which he conveniently drops when he sees me, I know I can’t turn back.
He takes me again, against the wall, this time turning me around and fucking me from behind. He has the stamina of a stallion, and although I’m utterly exhausted, he finishes by laying me on the bed and giving me everything I need at that moment. Slow, dirty, erotic sex.
My body has exerted itself. Something I haven’t experienced sexually before. I’ve done many things, and many men, but he’s like some sex god attentive to all my needs. Previously, I had joked that I was a receiver. Selfish would be the appropriate word. Yeah, I’ve blown guys, but almost always, I want all the attention.
Yet with Noah, I want to give back.
Running my nails along his muscular, lean torso and grating his abs, his cock teases me relentlessly, standing tall and begging for attention. I don’t hold back, nor do I tease, running my mouth down his body like a marathon race until I take him all in. My lips envelop around his shaft and relaxing my back muscles, I push down as far as my throat will allow. His groan follows, deep and husky, hands messing my hair as he pushes me onto him deeper.
My body reacts, again. Although sore and sensitive from where he’s been on me, my nipples become erect. The hardening a mixture of pleasure and pain. He begs me to stop, but I’m cruel that way, carrying on because I need all of him in my mouth.