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Vin took Annie's hand, led her to the bank of elevators, and pushed the button. He could see her hair deliciously rumpled, her eyes wide and vulnerable.
He bent and kissed her again, unable to resist, forcing himself to keep it light. He didn’t intend to fuck her here on the marble floor of the reception area. Or maybe he just didn’t care, but she might. She returned his kiss with a sweet shyness that totally captivated him.
Once she let him in, he was going to take and give without measure.
When his lips touched hers, the world exploded around him. When she responded, moving her lips gently under his, he knew he wouldn’t stop going after her this side of Christmas. He opened his mouth, and she followed suit, but he didn’t use his tongue, much as he wanted to, or he’d lose his mind. He had just enough control left. She tasted like strawberries and freedom, and he wanted every bit of it.
Vin took possession, curling her into his body, feeling her warm, soft flesh next to his hardness. He groaned into her mouth, and she sighed back. He finished the kiss for the pleasure of feeling her and returned for more, dropping soft kisses over her mouth, her cheekbones, and her eyelids.
The elevator dinged.
Her voice, slightly panicked, taut with tension stopped him. “Vin!” She tugged his hand, pulled him into the elevator. They had to move to one side to let some other people in. The other people stared, and one person cleared his throat in that particularly English way, signifying disapproval.
Never had his name sounded so good. He wanted to possess her completely. Now. He returned to her mouth, bewitched by its softness and femininity. The elevator had atmospheric lights, which meant he couldn’t see much.
When she jerked back, he stopped, even though it hurt. He ached for her, wanted nothing more than to toss her to the floor and take her hard, now.
Vin forced himself to pull in a deep breath, then another. Reason surged back. Fuck, what was she doing to him? Hell, he’d lost it completely. That had never, ever happened to him before. This woman was something special, and there was no way he would let her go until they’d explored what they’d uncovered.
Throat-clearing and foot-shuffling sounds told him he’d better stop. But when he drew back, Annie gripped his shirtfront. He leaned in just as the door opened.
The bell dinged, and people got out. They were alone.
Relief swamped him, making him dizzy. He couldn’t wait. Not one more minute.
He reached out and felt the smooth metal of the panel. Before he could think, she had him against the wall, her hands in his hair, dragging him down for another kiss. He heard the creak as the door began to close, kicked off one shoe and pushed it with his foot to stop the door’s closing. Anything to keep her here. He had to have her now. Now.
He slid his hand up her leg, savoring her heat under the wool of her pants, then up farther, under her T-shirt. Skin. Oh God, satin under his hands. Her low purr told him she approved, and when he cupped her breast, only the soft fabric of her bra between his skin and hers, he pressed, kneaded, enjoyed.
But not for long. She drew back far enough to reach his fly, and deftly unfastened it. His cock fell into her hand, and he lifted his head, groaned. “Shouldn’t we --”
“No. Nothing. Just do it.”
He planted a row of kisses down her throat. He’d do anything for her, so long as she didn’t stop. It would kill him if she stopped; he knew that for sure. But she didn’t.
Remembering his part, he fumbled for her pants, not as adept as she when he found the snap and zipper, but he managed, barely. Delving inside her pants, he discovered soft curls and, lower, a drenched slit. She moaned. “Oh God, that feels so good!” Shouldn’t he be saying that?
Touch, sound, and he could smell her arousal. Perhaps his other senses would compensate, like people had been telling him. He dropped to his knees and kissed her stomach, nipping the skin, hearing her little yelps with satisfaction. He dragged her pants down, and she helped him, pulling one foot out of the tangle of fabric.
Lower, to her sweet center, nuzzling through her curls to find her clit, erect and hot and so, so sweet. God, he loved tasting a woman. Was it his imagination, or did she taste sweeter than any woman he’d had before? She leaned against the wall, her moans increasing, and she buried her hands in his hair, tugging. The small nips of pain urged him on, and he delved deeper.
He shifted and remembered where he was. He couldn’t bring her to climax this way -- they didn’t have time -- but later, another time, he’d have her every way he could. Fuck, this woman was hot.
He couldn’t stop. Just as well he had a condom in his wallet, but God knew if it was in date. Probably. He didn’t want to leave her -- she felt so hot, so alive -- but he needed to protect her.
After he found the condom, he dropped his wallet on the floor, heedless of what happened to his credit cards and cash. He couldn’t care less. Only now did he realize just how long had passed since he’d had a woman, but he couldn’t remember ever wanting one as desperately as this.
Fuck, he nearly dropped the thing, but eventually, showing none of the skill he’d once prided himself on, he sheathed his cock. It felt hard and hot, driving his body to desperation. And he felt her heat, her wetness as he touched her, and she gasped when the cool air flowed over her slit. He pushed her against the wall and lifted her high to accept him. She straddled his legs, and he curved his hands under her thighs, supporting her as he pushed into her.
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