Illegal Contact (The Barons #1)

My foot hit against my fallen keyboard, but I ignored it in favor of falling into another dizzying kiss while teasing his ass with my dick. I put the tip in again, eyes rolling back as he milked it with his clenching muscles, pulled out fully, and slipped in deeper the next time. I had no idea who I was tormenting anymore, but the first time I fully seated myself in him, his muscles clamped down on my dick and he yanked me closer.

Noah tossed his head back, eyes shut and biting his lower lip. He arched against me, rocking his hips, spreading his thighs wider in invitation. A silent shout of No more teasing. Just fuck me.

It wasn’t ideal—the friction was almost too raw, the glide not as smooth, and the edge of the desk bit into my legs, but it was amazing made perfect when his eyes slit open and he gazed at me while we were pieced together. Without lube, I didn’t smash him as forcefully as I wanted to, but the blissed-out half smile on his face let me know I was hitting it just right. That smile grew when I manhandled him off the desk and got him to ride me once we relocated to the couch.

I finished with my hands in his hair and our lips crushed together. It was an orgasm worthy of Olympic medals, but what really stopped my heart was the sound of my name in his lust-soaked voice.

We were both in trouble.





Chapter Fourteen


Noah



I opened my eyes to darkness and oppressive heat.

It took me several minutes to fully rouse and for my vision to adjust. My body was pressed against the back of a couch, and Gavin was crushed to my front. His arms were wound around me, and he was breathing softly in my ear. And we were sweating all over each other.

Dread marched onto the tail end of my awareness. Even with his scent and warmth and the power in his body turned gentle and possessive as he held me, I couldn’t shake a reoccurring thought: I’d done it again. I’d gotten swept up in emotion, because I was vulnerable to any sort of affection, and had thrown myself at a man. And for the second time that man had been my boss. Not only had I kissed him, we’d fucked, and then had spent over an hour making out before falling asleep.

The languid quality of my body faded, and Gavin made a low sound in my ear before pulling me closer. As my eyes focused, I sought out his features in the darkness. The straight slope of his nose, those wide lips, long lashes, sharp cheekbones, and that scruff brushing against my own clean-shaven face. Even as regret filled me, I wanted to kiss him. To run my fingers through his hair and drink from his mouth.

He was such a good kisser. Hungry but gentle, and the way he cupped my face and kneaded my body had been perfect. It was how I’d remained in that postcoital sleepy state of delirium and kept my panic at bay.

Panic about having done it again.

I pushed Gavin away and managed to escape his gripping hands, but it took such a struggle that he immediately awakened.

“Where you going?” he murmured, voice hoarse with sleep.

“Gotta get up.”

“Mmm.” Gavin brushed his lips against my jaw. “Come to bed with me.”

He trailed openmouthed kisses down my throat, and my body immediately reacted. Dick hard, heart pounding, and hands gripping him.

“I can’t.” I forced myself to sit up. Lying in a naked tangle with him would never result in me leaving his house. It wouldn’t result in anything but another ride. “I have to go home.”

Gavin said nothing for a moment. He reached behind him and tugged the cord to a lamp. Golden light flooded the room, allowing me to feast on his naked body complete with bite marks and handprints that had come from me.

“Stay the weekend,” he rumbled.

“I can’t,” I said, standing.

“Please?”

How did he undo me with so little effort? A heavy-lidded stare, those swollen lips parted, and his hands sliding up my sides to pull me towards him. That was all it took for me to stop resisting. I was supposed to be grabbing my clothes and fleeing, not allowing him to line my crotch up with his face.

“Gavin . . .”

The rest of my sentence got lost in the ether once he took my dick down his throat.

“Oh shit.”

He looked up at me through his unruly hair, light brown eyes wicked, right before he took me all the way in. I clutched the back of his head, hunching forward, and barely made an effort to restore my crumbling resolve.

Gavin sucked me until my knees were weak, and until saliva and precum smeared his lips. He dragged me down to the couch when I began to hump his face too aggressively, and then fingered my ass while taking me in his mouth once again. I’d had good lovers in the past, but nothing really compared to the combination of a world-class blow job while my prostate was milked. I was reduced to a babbling fool—a constant chant of oh fuck oh fuck fuck me please make me come escalating in volume until I was shouting.

I came so hard I was nearly blinded by the lights exploding before my eyes, and then lapsed into too much of a stupor to enjoy the sight of Gavin jerking off while straddling me. He came hard, streams of his semen hitting my skin as he released ragged moans. When he collapsed on top of me, crushing my slighter body to the cushion once again, I let him draw me into another messy kiss.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered between kisses. “I want you in my bed for the next two days.”

“Can’t,” I said thickly. “Gotta go.”

“No, you don’t.” Gavin pulled away long enough to catch his breath. He was a wreck—flushed and sweaty with dilated eyes. “I’ll make you come all weekend. Do you hard like I know you want it. Slick you up with that good lube and make you lose your fucking mind.”

“Fuck, Gavin,” I groaned. “Stop making this more difficult.”

“Making what more difficult?”

“Me leaving! And . . .” I nervously licked my lips. “And you know we can’t keep doing this.”

A dawning expression crossed his face, confusion and irritation and then hurt. That killed me. Seeing the pucker of his brow, the slight widening of his eyes, and all animation draining away until those beautiful features were drawn tight and perfectly blank.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have started this. You were just . . . just . . .”

“I was what?” he asked, voice still pitched low and hooded eyes narrowed to golden slits.

You were just being so fucking sweet and lovely that I wanted to kiss you. To hold you. To be close to you. I wanted to show you that you’re special to me too. To tell you that I talk about you too. That I think about you even when I’m supposed to be focused on other things.

And then all I could think about was you screwing my brains out.

“You’re just so hot.”

Gavin blinked. “Okay, then.”

We untangled from each other in awkward silence. Questions bombarded me, and I tried to ignore them. He seemed upset, but could he really be? We’d fucked. That’s what he’d wanted, right? Or had he wanted more?

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