Built for Love

“We were running late before we even got out of bed I-” My words cut off as he presses two fingers deep inside of me, the palm of his hand still working my clit. For a man who lacked experience, you’d never know it. I whimper when he stops moving his hand, missing his touch instantly.

“Now you have to earn your orgasm. Fuck my fingers. Get yourself off.” His other hand grabs my hip. “Use me.” I try. I move my hips back and forth, fucking his fingers, but Abel doesn’t last long. He turns me, lifting me off my feet and placing me on the counter. The towel that’s around his waist drops to the floor as he pulls my panties to the side and thrusts home, making us even later to the office than we already are. But I can’t focus on that right now. Not when this man is buried deep inside of me, and I know the pleasure he’s about to bring me. Everything else will have to wait.

I had to make a mad dash to get ready to salvage any workday at all. Abel thought it was adorable. I pretended to be mad, but I wouldn’t change a thing about this morning. He got a kick out of pointing out that I had on two totally different heels. The man’s orgasms turn my brain to mush sometimes. Not that I’m complaining after the one he’d given me in bed and two on the kitchen counter.

“I brought you something to eat since you wouldn’t let me make you breakfast.” Abel huffs, looking adorably annoyed standing in the doorway of his office. Or I guess our office? It’s where I’ve been since I got here. Able never lets me far from him. If you would have told me a year ago a man doing that would melt my insides, I would have died of laughter. But here we are nonetheless.

“We’ll have to reprint the sketches you ruined this morning.”

“I believe it was your pussy that ruined them.” He licks his lips as though he can still taste me there. That sinful mouth of his smiles wickedly at me. I clench my thighs together, remembering his head between my legs. I roll my eyes at him, dipping my head to hide the blush. What he said was true, but he’s the one that set me down on them.

I watch as he walks toward me. The man even does that sexy. He stops, placing my late breakfast on my desk for me. I look down at the cinnamon bagel with extra cream cheese, my favorite, and my stomach turns.

I fight the urge to be sick, knowing that there is no way Abel will let me work today if he thinks I’m not feeling well. That’s not happening. I’ve already missed part of the morning. He’ll make me go home and today is too important of a day. We’ve been working for months to accomplish this deadline. There’s no way I’m missing it.

“What’s wrong?” I should have known he wouldn’t miss a beat. The man is so attuned to my body that I’m not shocked he can sense even the smallest disturbance. “You look a little pale.”

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Beck enters the office, saving me from Abel’s line of questioning.

“Leave them alone, you big lug.” Marist walks in a minute later. She walks straight to my desk.

Abel gets distracted by Beck, but I can feel him keep glance over at me to check on me. She props her hip up against my desk, eyeing my bagel.

“It’s all yours.”

“God, I love you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened around here.” She snags it off the plate. “You can never leave.” She licks some cream cheese off her thumb.

To be honest, I’m not sure what’s next. Working on my old apartment has been my only project, and at the end of today that’s done. I’m not even sure what happens with Abel and me after that. Am I supposed to move back to my place? Will he ask me to stay at his?

There have been no talks about what is next for work or if I’ll be staying with him or going home. Even calling my old apartment home feels so wrong. Abel’s is home. At least that’s what it feels like to me.

Then again, there haven’t been any words of love, marriage or babies between us. Of course Abel has talked about them in theory, but it never ventured beyond that. My stomach starts to turn again.

“Bathroom.” I smile at Marist. “Be right back.” She nods before I walk as fast as I can toward the bathroom. I barely make it before I’m throwing up my morning coffee.

“You okay?” Marist asks. I let out a surprised yelp, spinning around.