A Week in New York (The Empire State Series Book 1) (6 page)

He pulled at my clothes, releasing my shirt from my pants, and his hands
spread up and across my naked back.

He reached for my leg, drawing it around his waist and he pushed me
harder against the wall. I curled the other one around so he was holding me up.
I felt his erection against me, but there were too many layers between us.

His mouth was still on mine, his tongue desperate and thrusting, when he
released me from the wall and carried me from the elevator. Then I felt another
wall behind me, and he pressed his hardness against me, making sure I knew he
was ready for me.

I needed his shirt off. I clawed at his collar, fumbling for the buttons,
his mouth having found my neck, nipping and sucking. Not gentle, but desperate
like he had to taste me.

I started to make my way down his shirt, undoing the buttons, when he
pulled away.

“We need to get in the room,” he whispered. “Or I’m going to fuck you
right here.”

I realized we were in the hallway, just outside the elevators. I’d
assumed we’d made it into the suite. I giggled and buried my head in his neck
as he pulled me off the wall and moved toward the door. I should have got down
from him. He should have released me, but I needed his body against mine. I
pulled him tighter to me as he opened the door. He strode down the hallway of
the suite and I pulled back slightly to look at him as he walked. He looked
purposeful and determined and I let out the tiniest sigh. He was so handsome.

“Fuck,” he said. “When you look at me like that, it does something to me.
It flicks a switch in me.”

I felt my back against the mattress as he leaned over me and I relaxed my
hold on him.

“Seriously. Naked. Right now,” he said as he went for the zipper to my
trousers, tugging at it. I pushed his fingers away and took over and he reached
for the buttons on my blouse. “Look at your gorgeous tits,” he said as he
spread my blouse open. “I need you right now,” he said as he fumbled for his
own zipper.

“So take me. I’m yours to have. You have my body for a week.”

I shrugged off my blouse and kicked off my pants as he finished
undressing and found a condom. He crawled up my body, pressing his flesh
against mine.

“You’re mine to have,” he repeated to me as he thrust into me. My legs
parted farther and my knees drew up either side of him at the feel of him, as
if trying to make more room for him. He watched me and my reaction. For a
second, I couldn’t make a sound; I was so caught up in the sheer feel of him
inside me. And then from the back of my throat I heard myself groan.

“Oh, that’s it baby. Take it all,” he said as he thrust into me again.
Long, hard, pounding strokes.

“Ethan. Ethan. Ethan,” I screamed.

I felt myself clench around him and I dug my fingernails into shoulders.
Oh god, he needed to slow down. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready to feel
this so quickly. My hands grabbed at his arms and then started to push at his
chest.

“Ethan. Slow down. I can’t.” But he kept me there, pushing into me,
deeper and deeper and deeper. “I’m going to...” I couldn’t get my words out
before I felt myself falling, and there I was floating, feeling nothing and
everything as my orgasm washed over me.

I opened my eyes. Ethan had stilled and was watching me. “You look so
incredible when you come. You
feel
so incredible when you come.”

“For you.”

“For me,” he repeated and started his rhythm again, and I saw the moment
his orgasm started and spread through his body. God, he was sexy. He was my Sex
God.

He rolled off me and went into the bathroom, and I climbed under the
sheets and lay back on the bed.

“I thought it might have been a fluke,” he said when he came back into
the bedroom.

I sat up on my elbows and looked at him.

“Last night. Me coming like a teenager. I thought it must have been
fluke. But it’s you, Miss Anna.” He crawled over me and kissed me on the nose
and lay down on the other side of me. “Come here,” he said, inviting me to
scoot into the crook of his arm.

Ethan

Her skin was amazing. It glided over mine like warm silk. I liked stroking
it and I liked it touching me. Her leg was hooked over mine and her hand rested
on my chest. I’d just come like a teenager. Jesus, what was with that? It was
the look on her face that pushed me over the edge a few minutes ago. It was the
way she tried to resist her climax for a few seconds before giving into it and
opening herself up entirely to me. It was like I could see everything about her
when she came. All there, laid bare. Fuck, I could feel myself hardening again.
I reached across to cup her ass.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“You.”

“You liar.”

“I told you, no bullshit.” My hand dipped and her leg inched up. I sat up
and pushed her gently onto her back, leaned over to her and took one of her
nipples. It pebbled in my mouth and she moaned. So reactive. I felt her hands
in my hair, urging me on. I wanted to taste her. All of her. I moved lower,
trailing kisses down to her stomach, across to her hipbone, and she shuddered.
She was ready again. She wanted it as much as I wanted it, and that realization
was the biggest fucking turn on. I delved my tongue into her folds and I held
her knees out, giving me the best fucking view. She looked so incredible lying
there, disheveled, only just recovered from having my dick bring her to her
first orgasm, but still ready for my tongue to take her to her next. She wanted
it. She wanted me. I heard myself groan and she arched off the bed. I thrust
two fingers into her and circled.

“Hold still, Miss Anna. I’m going to make you come so hard, you’re going
to forget yourself.”

She answered with a moan. It was the only answer I needed. My tongue
found her nub and pressed flat and hard before circling. She thrust her hips
off the mattress, pushing herself into my mouth. I pushed her back down and my
tongue replaced my fingers and I tasted deep inside her. She tasted just like
honey. I couldn’t get enough.

I could tell she was close when she twisted to try and escape me. I
reached up and found her hands, then took her wrists and held them under her
ass. That was the perfect angle for me—it held her still. I kept sucking and
tasting and licking until I felt her tiny shudders. I could tell she was almost
there.

“Ethan,” she cried. I wasn’t sure if it was a cry of pleasure or pain.
Either way, I was in control of it. I could bring her over the edge or leave
her right there. Fuck, my dick was throbbing. The power I felt. I increased the
pressure of my tongue and there it was. She was over. She held her breath as
she came, for so long, as if she forgot everything else. I released her hands
and they went straight to my hair as I sucked the last remaining waves of her
orgasm from her. Jesus, my cock ached for her.

I lay beside her, propped up on one elbow, and watched her as she came around.
Her eyes eventually opened and she looked at me.

She absentmindedly stroked my chest. “You have magic in your touch.” She
said it in a way that let me believe I was the only one who could do that do
her. That only I could make her body respond that way. Fuck, I wanted her
again, badly. Before I had the chance to grab her and push my cock into her,
she rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom.

I lay flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. If I died now, after
tasting her and fucking her, I’d feel like I’d achieved something in my life.
Fuck my job—making her come like that was the biggest fucking thrill.

As she came from the bathroom, she looked at me and then down to my hard-on,
which I quickly covered with a sheet. I was constantly ready to go around her;
it was verging on embarrassing.

I moved up the bed, rested against the headboard, and held my arm out for
her to lie next to me. But instead, she took my hand in hers to steady herself
as she climbed astride me, her eyes never leaving mine. She leaned forward,
pushing her pussy back along the length of my cock, and pulled my bottom lip
between her teeth.

I sat up, grabbed her face in my hands, and kissed her hard on the lips,
pushing my tongue through to meet hers. She responded, her mouth open and ready—just
like her. She trailed her fingers up my sides so lightly, with such a contrast
to the heat and passion I felt from her, the way she moved above me, that it
was as if those fingers told me something more, something deeper about her.

Jesus. How did she do that, open herself up to me like that? Without even
realizing. But I knew. And I knew then that I had to be careful with her. She
was feisty and passionate, but also gentle, sweet, and breakable.

I moved my hands to her magnificent tits. They were just fucking perfect.
Natural, firm, not too big, and it felt like they were made for me. I felt
harder than ever. I looked across to the bedside table. She followed my eyes
and reached over for a condom, which she handed to me. After fumbling around
like a 15-year-old, I placed my hands back on her hips and pulled her onto me.
I loved having her above me like that, pushing down at her own pace. Her eyes
left mine and to watch me move in and out of her. I tilted her chin so she looked
at me again.

“You like to watch that?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Tell me,” I said.

She hesitated. For a moment I thought I’d pushed her too far.

“I like to see your dick fucking me.”

“Jesus,” I groaned. My cock was throbbing and I was aware of every inch
of her clamped around me. My hands dug into her hips as I tried to get deeper,
quicker. She responded and moved with me to speed up her rhythm and pressed her
nails into my shoulders as her head fell back. God, she was so sexy. I was
going to make her come again. I wasn’t sure if it was the feeling of fucking
her or watching her getting fucked, but I wasn’t going to last long. Not
breaking our perfect movements, I reached down and my thumb found her clitoris.
Instinctively, she backed away and I tried to hold her in place.

“No,” she gasped.

“Yes, baby. Let me make you come.”

“I can’t, not again.”

“You can and you will.” And I flipped her to her back and drove into her.

“Ethan. Please. Harder.”

That was it. I was done for. I pushed my thumb back to her clitoris and
roughly rounded the bag of nerves as I kept up my rhythm. Her hips tilted up to
meet my hand and my dick, driving me harder into her, just as she wanted. I
felt my orgasm begin to rumble at the base of my spine. I kept my eyes open,
wanting to see it on her face as well. Just a split second later, there it was,
her eyes shut lazily, I felt her breathing stop, and I relaxed and allowed my
climax to take me over.

I collapsed on top of her, totally spent and totally needing more from
her.

I could fuck her forever.
What?

I pulled out and went into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. I
needed to clear my head. Shake it off. I splashed some water on my face and
looked in the mirror.

I don’t do complicated,
I reminded myself.

When I opened the door to the bedroom, she was sat on the edge of the bed
and was pulling her shirt on.

“Are you leaving?” I asked. How long had I been in the bathroom?

“I was cold, but yeah, maybe I should go.” I was a dick. She wasn’t
leaving, and now it looked as if I was thinking she should. She hadn’t said it
as a question, but her eyes were asking. I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure what my
answer would be.

She looked away and stood up, her eyes going to the floor, looking for
her things. I walked up to her and drew her to my chest. Her hands hung limply
by her side. She was upset—upset with me—and I hated myself for it.

“Stay,” I said into her neck.

“I should go.”

“I want to wake up with you tomorrow.” No bullshit. It was what I wanted.

“Just a week,” she said. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or
herself as she unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off her shoulders.

I didn’t push her to explain. “Let’s get you into bed if you’re cold.” I
walked her backward into the bed and guided her under the covers. “You need
body heat to warm you, beautiful,” I said as I pulled her back to my front and
fit her perfectly into my body. “Sleep.”

Anna

There was a distinct giddiness about my mood as I let myself back into
Daniel’s flat the following morning. I had woken up to Ethan trailing kisses
along my body. He told me he was hungry and that he wanted to taste my honey.
Who was I to argue? I loved the way he was so keen to make me come.

There was something about him that was almost addictive. I couldn’t get
enough of his body, his touch. If someone said that I could trade any hope of a
normal existence and spend the rest of my life in that bed with him, I think
I’d sign on the dotted line. Even now, twenty minutes since I last saw him, I
wanted him again. And who was he? He was a stranger to me, and I to him. But I
think part of him knew me better than anyone else. The way he looked at me,
through me, and right into the center of me. Somehow, that ability to see me in
a way others didn’t meant he could do things with my body that no one could. No
one had.