hail a cab.”
We make out the whole way to St. Clair’s apartment, steaming up the back windows of the cab like a couple of teenagers. When the cab pulls up to the entrance, St. Clair throws a couple of twenty pound notes down. “Keep the change.”
He hustles me inside, kissing me up against the wall before the door has even closed behind us.
“You’re all wet,” he murmurs, caressing my breasts through my wet clingy dress and the lace of my bra.
I shiver against him, running my hands across his torso. I peel away his shirt, stripping him down to his bare skin as I kiss along his chest. I’m so caught up in the moment, I’m hardly able to stay on my feet. I should take a moment to calm down, to think this through, but I don’t want to.
I want to lose myself in him and never come up for air.
St. Clair takes my chin and tilts my face up toward his to claim my mouth again, kissing me passionately. He reaches around to unzip my dress and it slides to the floor. I let out a small moan, remembering the last time he undressed me, the way his hot tongue traced the curves of my body. I shudder in anticipation. He unclasps my bra and dips his head to kiss my breasts. I moan again at the sensation, arching against him, desperate for more. He teases my nipples, licking at them until they’re stiff with need, then taking each into his mouth in turn. He sucks hard, and I cry out with pleasure, clinging to his broad shoulders to keep from swooning to the floor. But I needn’t worry – he lifts me up then, sweeping me into his strong arms and carrying me through the dark apartment to his bedroom.
St. Clair sets me gently on the bed. I gaze up at him as he slowly peels off my panties, and suddenly I’m laying naked and spread before him. His eyes devour every inch of me in the dark.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, slowly undoing his belt and stripping off his pants. “I could look at you forever.”
My heart sings, but as much as his words are a gift, I need more from him; not just more: everything. When he’s naked, I pull him down to me, covering my body with his. The feel of him, skin to skin, is incredible. I can hardly believe it. And then I feel the hot length of him, hard and rigid against me.
Yes.
I lay back, spreading my thighs wider in welcome. “I want you so much,” I whisper, and St. Clair groans in answer. He reaches across to the nightstand, and a moment later, settles between my hips. I feel his fingers caress lightly between us, stroking my clit with perfect pressure until I can’t take the heat anymore. “All of you.” I reach for him, so big and hard, and guide him toward me, ready and waiting. “God, Charles…”
He enters me slowly, like he’s savoring every inch of sensation. I press my head up against his shoulders, it’s such a rush. God, he feels so good.
“Grace,” his voice is strained, and his usually calm expression is replaced with pure need. He rocks deeper, thrusting harder, filling me completely. I gasp and dig my teeth into his shoulder, my nails into his back. I wrap my legs around his torso as he plunges in and out, deeper and faster, and I feel a swell of sweet fire building, the throbbing pressure rising like a tide. He squeezes my ass, holding me in place, and bites at my neck, groaning low in his throat. This is everything I need.
My hips rise to meet his and I throw my head back, reveling in the sensation as his thrusts become quicker, harder, deeper, getting lost in the hot build of our rhythm until the orgasm rips through me like a tsunami, a beautiful wave of pure pleasure strong enough to drown in. I feel St. Clair tense, and then his climax is ripped from him too, and I hear him cry out my name as we both fall into the bliss.
CHAPTER 8
I wake up surrounded by soft sheets in a luxurious bed, feeling dazed and disoriented, but content. I smell coffee before I open my eyes. “Mmm, that smells good,” I say out loud, still sleepy.
“Hey there, sleepy head.” St. Clair kisses my cheek and I suddenly remember everything about last night.
Everything.
“Hey.” I peek