Chapter 140: Wrong Floor

"Please..." She begged.

When she started this, she didn’t think it would spiral so quickly.

"You started this. I’m ending it."

She froze with her breath trapped somewhere in her chest.

How could this man still torture her like this?

He had seen every inch of her, touched every inch, fucked every part of her he could.

There should have been some kind of immunity by now. Some natural point where Dorian Heathcliffe stopped affecting her like a drug.

Naomi looked out through the windshield and nearly sighed with relief.

They were finally turning onto the street leading toward the townhouse.

The townhouse came into view.

Dorian pulled into the garage, already working on his tie.

The second the engine shut off, Naomi reached for the door. By then, she was practically whimpering.

She climbed out quickly, but she barely had time to find her footing before Dorian came around the vehicle.

His hand closed around hers and yanked her toward the elevator.

They stepped inside.

The doors had barely started closing before Dorian turned on her.

Naomi’s back slammed against the elevator wall.

Dorian crowded into her space, one hand braced beside her head while the other slammed the button. He looked like he was starving, completely finished with playing games. His eyes dropped to the open front of her suit before returning to her face. "You’re fucked!"

"I know," she said.

His mouth crashed into hers in the hungriest, most starved kiss he could muster, and Naomi barely had time to gasp before he had her pinned against the elevator wall.

The doors slid shut behind them.

Naomi’s hands went straight into his hair, pulling him closer while his palms moved over her body with no patience left whatsoever. Her jacket disappeared.

It was lying abandoned on the elevator floor, and her breasts were completely bare to him.

"Fuck..." His mouth dropped to her neck.

Naomi moaned, arching into him.

Dorian lifted her easily, and her legs wrapped around his waist.

The position pressed his erection directly against her through their clothes.

He was hard, thick and desperate.

She whimpered against his mouth and rolled her hips.

The elevator continued its smooth climb, Naomi grinding against him every chance she got. The friction wasn’t enough.

Not nearly.

She could still feel the ache between her thighs from the drive home, and Dorian’s erection pressing against her only made it worse. Her fingers moved everywhere, trying to reach his belt, trying to get inside his clothes.

Dorian was losing his mind.

The elevator doors opened. Neither of them cared. Eventually, oxygen became non-negotiable.

They broke apart, both breathing hard.

Dorian lifted Naomi away from the wall and stepped out of the elevator. His eyes moved around the room. He’d pressed the wrong fucking button. They were on the entertainment floor.

There was absolutely no chance he was going back down. Not with her half naked in his arms and his cock aching badly.

"Nope." Dorian carried her toward the pool table. "We live here now."

Naomi barely had time to laugh before he set her down on the edge.

He immediately started working on the buttons of his shirt.

Naomi took that as permission to handle herself. She pushed her pants down, dragging her underwear with them and opened her thighs wide, offering herself to him without an ounce of shame.

His shirt hung half-open as he stepped between her legs.

Dorian lifted both of her legs, pushed them higher and lowered his head.

The second his lips closed over her pussy lips, Naomi jerked with a cry, thighs trembling.

Dorian pulled her closer, his palms coming down hard against the skin of her ass as he went straight back to doing exactly what Naomi had praised him for in front of cameras. He serviced her thoroughly, with the same stubborn determination he seemed to apply to everything else in his life.

His mouth moved over her without mercy, licking, pulling, kissing and tugging until Naomi could barely decide whether she wanted to push him away or drag him closer.

"Fuck... Dorian..."

And, as usual, Naomi praised him constantly. It had become her signature. Every thought that entered her head seemed to leave through her mouth somewhere between desperate sighs, broken words, screams and moans.

He loved knowing exactly what he was doing to her, loved hearing her lose control.

Then he changed the angle.

Dorian lifted her legs higher, practically raising them to his full height and denying her the comfort of gravity.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the pool table.

The position left her completely at his mercy which was precisely where he wanted her. Every time her breathing sharpened and her body started tightening toward release, Dorian stopped her.

His palm came down hard against her sex.

Naomi would cry out and he would return his mouth right back down to her. She genuinely wanted to murder him.

By the fourth, tears had gathered in her eyes.

"You bastard..."

She started it, Dorian thought.

Naomi whimpered, reaching desperately for her breasts, pinching her nipples hard between her fingers because she needed something, anything, to push herself over the edge he kept dragging her away from.

The angle he held her in made them easy to reach.

Naomi flicked her tongue over one nipple, shuddering.

Dorian groaned against her.

The bastard was following through on his threat.

Not without him.

Naomi begged. She praised him. She cursed him.

Dorian remained completely unmoved.

"Please... Dorian, please... Oh my God!"

Finally, frustration snapped through her.

"Just fuck me already!"

Dorian immediately lowered her legs.

Naomi barely had time to breathe before he pulled her away from the pool table and toward the large couch.

She landed against the cushions, chest rising and falling hard.

Dorian stood in front of her, reached down and wrapped his hand around himself. He stroked fast, watching her watch him.

Naomi’s gaze followed every movement of his hand as he worked himself for several seconds, making her wait even longer. She stared at the size of him, the wetness gathered at the head, and felt another pulse of need move through her.

He looked as delicious as ever so she did reach for him.

Naomi had him in her mouth in one go, humming around him with obvious pleasure while one hand slipped between her own thighs again.

Dorian was a fucking beast. He reached for her hair, pulled out whatever support was holding it in place and watched the carefully styled strands tumble loose around her shoulders.

Then he gathered them in both fists.

"Fuck..."

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