Home > Sweet Surrendering (Surrender Saga #1)(8)

Sweet Surrendering (Surrender Saga #1)(8)
Author: Chelsea M. Cameron

I lowered my mouth, but I didn’t kiss him. Not yet. First I kissed his cheek and then inched my lips a tiny bit lower until I was at the corner of his mouth. Then I switched to the other side. I could feel his muscles tensing and quivering under me. I was playing him like a violin. I was owning him.

I sucked on his bottom lip and it was like something in him broke. I was thrown backward on the seat until he was the one on top.

“I swear, if you don’t come back to my place with me, right now, and let me f**k the hell out of you, I am going to lose it, and you don’t want to see me lose it.”

Our eyes locked and he started moving his hips against me. Damn. I missed having a man pressed against me, passionate, and lusty. Sometimes Royce would come visit me at work and we’d sneak away. But it hadn’t lasted. The fire had burned out in only a few weeks, and then it was like a chore. Royce was also more conventional than I was in bed. I’d suggest all kinds of things to spice things up, but he’d looked at me like I was a deviant and so I dropped it and tried to be content with missionary.

Something told me Lucas Blaine would be game for anything and everything.

The driver announced my stop and I had a decision. Lucas waited for me, pressing a little harder and making his intentions even clearer.

“I changed my mind,” I heard myself say to the cabbie.

“Drive,” Lucas said. His head dipped down, and I put my hand up to stop him from kissing me.

“So I’m a good kisser then?” I said innocently as he opened his mouth and I slid my finger in.

“I’ll let you know in the morning,” he said, licking the tip of my finger and giving me a devilish smile.

In order to get out of the cab and up to his apartment, Lucas to climb off me; our legs got a little tangled and it was hard to do with grace. Red-faced Lucas gave the cabbie a fifty and told him to keep the change. I give him a wink and I definitely heard him chuckle as I tried to walk with some sort of dignity. It was a bit easier for me, because I wasn’t the one pitching a tent in my jeans. I laughed a little and shifted so I was standing in front of him as a few people passed by. Lucas used me as a shield, which made me start laughing and then I couldn’t stop.

I doubled over, because I just couldn’t help it.

“Well, this is a bit of an ego blow. You’d think this was my first time,” he said behind me, and I heard a tinge of embarrassment in his voice. Trying to keep a straight face I stood, turning around. It was dark, but I swore I could see him blushing.

He was blushing. How unexpectedly adorable.

There was a lurch in the bottom of my stomach that I didn’t really understand, but it made me stop giggling as if I’d been dunked in a bucket of cold water.

“Something wrong?” he said, taking a step back from me, regardless of what was going on in his pants. “Not having second thoughts?”

Oh, hell no. The sex was happening. I’d shut the door on my common sense about three drinks ago. Even though I knew it was a bad idea.

“None,” I said, grabbing his shirt and yanking his mouth onto mine. Luckily, our teeth didn’t collide, but I almost sliced his lip open.

I wrenched my mouth away after one fast, hot kiss that had me tingling from the tips of my hair to the ends of my toes and everywhere in between. It was a fire-starting kiss.

“Let’s go,” I said, wobbling on my feet a bit and hoping he didn’t notice. I had been a hell of a lot more confident in the cab.

He took my hand and I stared up at the building.

“Wow, swanky.” It was a doorman building. A really nice doorman building. What the hell was he doing applying for an assistant job if he lived here? I didn’t even have a doorman and my building was pretty nice. Dad wouldn’t allow me to go “slumming” as he said it.

“Let’s get you upstairs and into my bed, hmm?” It was like he was singing again, the way his voice slipped and slid over and under my skin.

“Sounds good,” I said as he tugged me toward the door where the doorman gave him a smile and a “Nice to see you, Mr. Blaine.”

I prayed that my hand wasn’t sweaty as he yanked me toward the elevator and pushed the button.

“Maybe we could just take the stairs?” I said as we both stared up, waiting for it to come to us.

“I live on the fourteenth floor,” he said with a grin. Now that we were out of the cab I was feeling shy and apprehensive. I must have left the vixen who’d climbed onto his lap in the cab. I kind of needed her back.

“Finally,” he muttered when the elevator door opened. A woman exited and was nearly run over by Lucas as he dragged me inside. She made a huffy sound, but he didn’t apologize.

As soon as the door closed, he shoved me so hard up against the back wall that I knew I was going to have a bruise. But I really, really didn’t care as his mouth claimed mine and I was pressed and connected with every inch of him.

His hands held onto my face, as if he was desperate not to lose me. It felt So. Damn. Good. I hadn’t had anyone who’d wanted me this much in a long time, and I burned with it.

We drank each other in and I barely noticed when the elevator opened and we were on his floor. He broke the kiss long enough to pick me up in his arms and stride with purpose toward his door.

Of course, in his haste to get me into bed, he forgot that he had to unlock his door, so he ended up having to put me down to get his keys out, and he fumbled with them.

It was such a sweet moment that I almost started laughing again. But as I was about to cheer when the lock clicked and he kicked the door open, I was swept up in his arms again.

I had a brief look at an open floor plan and lots of white and black and chrome before he kicked another door open and I was tossed on a giant bed covered in silky black cotton sheets, and then he was diving on top of me.

It was like we were horny teenagers and he was worried that any moment his mom was going to come in. He seemed sure in some ways, but his fingers fumbled a little, and it just made me kiss him harder.

Normally, I liked being with a guy who was willing to take control, who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it, but I liked this. It was new. It was like our first time ever and that made it better somehow, instead of awkward.

In his haste to get my top off, he ended up ripping my shirt as he tried to pull it over my head.

“Sorry,” he said against my lips.

“No big,” I said. Who cared about the damn shirt? I could just buy another one. I couldn’t buy the way his hands raced over my exposed skin, or how it goose bumped in response. Now he was the one who had me eating out of the palm of his hand.

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