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I lay there panting and trembling, my heart pounding in my chest as the last vestiges of my climax rippled through me.
Gently he eased his fingers from me and pulled back. “I'm going to get you a washcloth and clean you up. But you are going to stay just like that for me while I take my next call. You never know when I’ll get hungry again.”
9
Atticus
As the elevator shot me up the forty-five floors to my penthouse, I rolled my shoulders to release the tension, knowing Gwen was inside.
I scowled at my cock as it immediately strained against my trousers.
"Down, asshole. I need to talk to her first." What had happened in the office had been… unexpected. We still had some things to talk about. It would be helpful if I didn’t have her taste lingering on me.
What she’d done in my office… Fuck me.
You mean, the hottest shit you have ever experienced in your life?
That too.
I’d made her stay with her pussy open to me for thirty minutes until it was clear that the phone meeting was going to go on longer. Then I’d made sure the security team had taken her home.
It hadn’t been any easier to concentrate though. Not with the taste of her pussy on my tongue.
She’d made a good point today. I had been trying to push her away. Well, not away necessarily. I'd been trying to protect her. Keep her safe. My obsession with her and the need to have her in my life had put her at risk, and I hoped to God I could protect her. But because I was so dickmatized by my fucking wife, I'd missed something crucial the day she got shot. There was no getting around that.
Don't be an asshole. She wants you. You want her.
The doors to the elevator slid open. I used the biometric eye scanner and then the additional security gate slid right open too.
I tossed my keys in the little bowl in the vestibule and strolled into the dining room. I knew Micah wasn’t here. I’d left him at the office working on a list of proposals for the Vegas Tech Conference in a couple of months, so we had the house to ourselves. And I'd asked Magda to leave food and given her the rest of the night off, so I was surprised when I didn't immediately find Gwen anywhere.
But when I strolled by the library, assuming she was in that room, I found her in the corner, tucked up on the settee, blankets around her, glowering at her laptop. I leaned into the doorframe, staring at her for several long moments, taking her in.
The moonlight hit her dark skin, highlighting all of the high points and making them glow. I noted the way her teeth grazed her bottom lip as she gnawed on it. The set of her eyes, her hair, tucked up into a messy pile of curls. I wanted to let them down. She’d started wearing it longer now, ever since the Winston Isles.
Maybe it was because of the way you responded to the curls.
Who the fuck knew? I just knew that I wanted to sink my hands in her hair again and tug. Feed my cock to her once again and have her…
"Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to come in?"
I cleared my throat. "Hey, yourself."
She grinned at me then. "Hello, Mr. Price."
The grin tugged at my lips automatically. "Hello, Mrs. Price."
We both froze, smiling at each other like this was some kind of first date. I had no idea what to say to her. Sorry I've been a prick and trying desperately not to fuck you. Also, I'm sorry I almost got you killed. And would you please, pretty fucking please, let me taste you like earlier?
Gwen's brows lifted. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you okay? How's your shoulder?"
She rolled her eyes and then guiltily slid her gaze to where her sling lay on the coffee table. "In all fairness, I wore it all day. I wanted to have some freedom of movement, and it doesn't hurt so much anymore. It's just not comfy constantly having it tucked against my side."
"You're supposed to wear it."
"There are a lot of things I'm supposed to do. Don't be grumpy about it."
