Clashing with the CEO - Page 157

He dropped to his knees, his hands coming up to cup my backside and pull me close as he pressed a kiss to the bow. I gasped, my head falling back, as I threaded my fingers through his hair, urging him on. He trailed kisses along the edges of my underwear. My skin burned everywhere his mouth made contact. Just when I thought I might combust from the exquisite torture, he hooked his arms under my knees and stood swiftly, lifting me up. I let out a surprised yelp which melted into a needy moan as I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling his blatant arousal pressing hard against me.

He set me down on the bed, and he captured my lips again in a searing kiss. Our mouths moved together with unrelenting urgency, tongues sliding and caressing. He kissed me deeply, fiercely, like a man starved, his stubble scraping my chin. I returned the intensity, pouring all of my pent-up longing into the connection of our lips. He pinned me on my back, my dress bunched up around my hips. He shrugged off his suit jacket and discarded it on the floor. His chest was heaving. His crotch was tight at the seams. He bent over me and yanked the bodice of my dress down, my breasts spilling free. “Gorgeous tits,” he grunted, before burying his face in them.

I cried out, my back arching as he lavished attention on my breasts. His hands, mouth, and tongue had me panting and writhing beneath him, my hands gripping and twisting the sheets. This was killing me. I wanted more. I bucked my hips and ground on him, to which he rewarded me with a luscious groan in response.

Breaking away from my breasts, he shoved a hand in between us to unbuckle his belt, then slide it out of the loops. The friction of the action almost had me in pieces.

“Take off your dress,” he said, his voice raw with need.

“Mr. Kingston—” I protested.

It had the desired effect. He snarled and wrested my dress down my hips, then onto the floor. Hovering over me on his hands and knees, he stared down with a look of pure reverence. “Beautiful. So beautiful.”

I reached up to catch him by his shirt collar. “Your turn.”

From there I attacked his shirt buttons, my shaky hands fumbling, unable to keep up with my desperation.

“Allow me.” Neil leaned back and took over, freeing each button until his shirt hung all the way open, revealing a tantalising glimpse of the taut body underneath.

Frantic to see even more of him, I pulled off his shirt and drank in his glorious physique. He was toned and sculpted in a way that showed off his efforts to stay in peak physical condition. He had none of the boyish lankiness of my former boyfriends. He was broad and sturdy, with muscles that were strong but not over-inflated. A light smattering of dark hair covered his pecs and trailed down his stomach. I ran my hands over him, tracing each ridge and valley down his chest and abs, down to his hips, his pubic bone…

He took a sharp intake of breath as I stroked my hand down the bulge in his pants, then back up again. Now it was his turn to fumble, his fingers tangling in mine as he tried to undo his fly. He eased his zipper down at last, then removed his trousers. He wore a pair of black boxer shorts underneath, tented by the force of his straining hard-on. He pulled me up to meet him on his knees in the middle of the bed and kissed me again, my bare breasts pressed to his chest, his hand down my panties, palming my backside. I closed my eyes and gave in to the sensation of his tongue, his skin, and the mounting pressure where our hips moulded together.

Neil punctuated his deep kiss with a soft, shallow one pressed gently to my lips, then he lay back on the pillows and guided me down with him. We settled on our sides, face to face. He brushed a strand of hair from my cheek and tucked it behind my ear. “Are you still sure you want to do this?”

“Yes. Don’t stop.” I had never been more sure of anything.

Neil traced my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “You want me?”

“Please.”

I hoisted my leg over him and drew him close. He rutted in response, driving his erection deep between my thighs, rubbing hard against my aching core. I stifled a moan by latching on to his throat, kissing that alluring expanse of skin I’d always wanted to kiss so badly. Neil whimpered and slapped my arse. I dug my fingers into his back.

Our movements became more and more frenzied. Amidst the mess of our tangled limbs, I felt Neil slip a hand between my legs. He stroked his way up my inner thigh in light, incremental motions. I bit my lip, the tension in me coiling like a spring. When he reached the top of my leg, he toyed with the elastic of my underwear between his fingertips. He dipped, then retreated, dipped, then retreated, making me squirm and clench with anticipation. Finally, he slid his hand further, his fingertips grazing my twitching pussy through the crotch of my underwear. He teased me with light, languid strokes, up and down, around and round. I gripped his shoulders hard, my body crying out for more. Just when I couldn’t take it anymore, he slipped two fingers underneath and swirled them in my slick folds. “So wet for me,” he murmured.

I was coming undone, panting, a mess. “Please… please…”

“Yes?”

“I need you.”

“That sounds so good, Milly. Say it again for me.”

“I need you. Please.”

“Yes… Yes…”

He withdrew his hand and tugged down his boxer shorts. I couldn’t help but gape at the impressive sight of him. He tossed his boxers on the pile of discarded clothing on the floor, then paused, looming above me. “Before we do this, any infections I should know about?” he asked.

I blinked up at him, his unexpected seriousness throwing me off balance.

He smoothed my hair back. “Don’t take offence. I just want to keep you safe.”

My surprise faded. Of course, he’d be the responsible adult in this situation. It was one of the many facets of his personality I admired so much. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to seem shocked. You’re absolutely right to ask. And I’m clean. You?”

“Clean. Do you have a condom?”

“I’m on birth control.”