Page 35 of Walk of Shame

I cry into his mouth before kissing him harder. More urgently.

I turn.

His fingers leave me, and he growls, before he slams me up against the glass of the balcony.

I climb up him, desperate to get closer.

His head slants, deepening the melding of our mouths, and I seep into him.

I want more. Need him.

Unwilling to break the contact of our lips, I arch into him and he seems to understand because he takes my hips and thrusts against me. We rock, mouths hungry, our bodies greedy and mindless.

I want closer, but his cock feels so good against my aching center I don’t think to pull away. His hips grind into me, pushing me closer and closer and closer to orgasm.

God, not like this. I manage to rip away and gasp. “Please stop. You’re going to make me come.”

He fists my hair in his hand and yanks. “You’re going to come all night, over and over.”

“Yes. I—” His kiss cuts me off, and my thoughts scatter.

We attack each other like we’re something feral and not quite human.

He picks me up and my legs wrap around his waist. He stumbles us to the bed, and we tumble down on it.

He rips away, skimming over my body with his hot, hungry mouth. He yanks down the straps of my dress and then his mouth is on my breast.

He sucks deep and I cry out, tugging him closer, urging him on.

He laves my nipple with his tongue, and roughly pushes his hand between my legs.

“Christopher.” His name rings out on the air, sounding lost and vulnerable and so needy, but I don’t even care, because it’s exactly how I feel.

I don’t want to hide it. I want him to feel every ounce of my desire.

He makes a sound in the back of his throat and jerks my dress the rest of the way down my body.

“Yes, god yes,” I call out. Lost in the feel of his mouth and hands. “More. I want your cock.”

“Fuck.” The word is guttural. Then he’s rearing up and stripping the shirt from his chest.

I kick away my panties, as he shucks out of his pants. He grabs a condom from the nightstand drawer and rips the foil open before sliding the latex over his erection.

Then he’s covering me. His mouth demanding. Insistent.

Making me mindless.

He lifts his lips and says against mine, “This isn’t my plan.”

I arch my hips. “I don’t care. I just want you inside me so bad.”

“You drive me so damn crazy.” He shifts, his cock rubbing along my slick, swollen opening.

I grasp his hips, letting my nails sink into his skin. “Take me. Please take me.”

He growls. “You’re going to make this up to me.”

“Yes. Later.” I bow up at the exact moment he slams home.