Chapter 24 The penthouse
I feel like a live wire as Eric and I ride the elevator up to his penthouse. It’s a totally different experience this time around. I’m not nervous; I’m not shy. What I am is ready. Ready to forget about all my problems and all my stress. Ready to lose myself in the euphoric haze of heated foreplay and sweaty sex.
Honestly? I don’t even really need the foreplay today.
All I want is for Eric to fuck me into oblivion, until that urgent sense of pressure in my gut is stamped out altogether. I want him so bad I’m actually salivating for it. I want him to give it to me hard. Fast. No holds barred.
Doesn’t seem like the feeling is mutual, though.
He’s still attached to his phone, his eyes fixated on the screen as he scrolls and scrolls. Even when the doors open, he steps out without lifting his gaze.
The sound of my heels disappears into the plush carpet. I take them off along with my coat. I hear the click as Eric turns his phone off and something inside me snaps. I’m not interested in playing it cool today. I’m not willing to wait around until he makes the move.
We both know what we’re here for. Why beat around the bush?
So I throw myself at him, lips landing hot against his. I didn’t expect him to kiss me the first time we did this, but once he ripped that Band-Aid off, all I’ve been able to think about since then is doing it again.
That kiss was everything.
This one is somehow more.
I don’t give him any time to react before I’m ripping at the buttons of his shirt. One flies right off and almost pops me in the face. But I’m not willing to let anything slow me down.
My hands slide down his washboard midsection while little shivers run through my body. I trace his tattoos with my fingertips. When I cup him through his pants and give it a squeeze, he lets out a soft growl. Then, without warning, I find myself thrown against the wall, hands pinned to the sides of my head, trapped between the wall and the heat of his skin.
“What’s gotten into you today, kiska?” His lips travel along my jaw and down towards my neck.
“The thought of you getting inside me,” I gasp. “I can’t wait today, Eric.”
“Hm.”
That sound…
“Please,” I beg. He pushes his hips against me. “Ahh… please… Just—”
“You want it rough today?”
He knocks my legs apart with his knee and forces himself between them. He’s right there, pressing against me through my pants.
“Y-yes,” I moan. “Oh God, yes.”
His lips slide back up to my ear. He circles my lobe with his tongue. “Dirty little kiska. You want me to take you like the filthy little minx you are?”
I nod frantically as my eyes roll back in my head. Is it possible to lose your mind just from dirty talk? I’m game to find out.
His tongue sneaks into my mouth and I’m caught off-guard by how harsh it is. It’s not a kiss at all; it’s a claim. It’s him saying, You’re mine. Every inch of you, head to toe, inside and out.
My cheeks are flushed and my lips rubbed raw, but still, he demands more. He takes greedily. When he breaks away, I’m gasping for breath. My head is spinning so fast that if he weren’t holding me up, I’d be melted into a puddle on the floor.
He captures my gaze for a split second. Those amber eyes are ablaze. “Be careful what you wish for, little kiska.”
He pushes my hands together and pins them in place over my head. He unbuttons my pants first and then his. His palm presses firmly against me before he spins me around.
“Eric…” I whisper helplessly as he teases me. One more tease. One more tortured moment of waiting.
Then he moves. I’m so ready for him that my whole body bears down.
I asked for rough and that’s exactly what he gives me. There’s no easing into things tonight. We’ve been in the door for all of two minutes and he’s already driving into me with every ounce of force he has.
“Yes, yes!” I moan. My head keeps banging against the wall every time he moves, but I can’t feel a thing. The only thing I’m capable of feeling is him, the tension of his fingers cuffed around my wrists, the way my body fires off sparks that feel like electricity every time his hips collide with mine.
He crashes against me until my body clenches into one raw sensation. My whole world contracts violently and then it releases in a series of explosions that set my skin on fire.
“Oh, God,” I gasp, falling back against Eric’s shoulder.
He releases my arms and they fall limp to the sides. Then he slides his hands down towards my hips and grips me a little tighter, before hoisting me into his arms. “You have a habit of coming early, kiska. That’s going to have to stop or I’ll have to punish you.”
He carries me into the living room while my body still courses with residual shivers. “Yes,” I breathe. “Punish me.”
“Such an eager little kiska. You’ll learn soon enough not to ask for more than you can handle.”
He sets me down on the arm of his sofa. A part of me cringes at the thought of being half-naked on the cashmere upholstery, like I don’t belong anywhere near furniture this expensive.
Then he tears off my blouse and all thoughts of that variety go right out of the floor-to-ceiling window.
Eric’s simmering amber eyes are still fixated on my swollen lips. He passes his thumb across them in one swoop, frowning intently like something about the beautiful damage he does to my body bothers him.
Then he withdraws his touch abruptly and any trace of tenderness I thought I might’ve seen in his face disappears. That snarling mask snaps back into place.
Grabbing me by the hips, he flips me facedown across the arm of the couch. Suddenly, part of me is afraid.
Be careful what you wish for, kiska.
“Eric?”
“Silence.”
My mouth snaps shut.
“You’ve been a bad girl.”
Tendrils of pleasure erupt inside me.
“And you know what bad girls get, don’t you?”
“Punished?”
His hand smooths over my hip. “They get broken.”
The rest happens fast. Pain and pleasure blur until I don’t know where one ends and the other begins. He knows exactly how to unravel me, how to push me to the edge and hold me there until I’m begging. And when I finally break, when my body gives out with a sob I can’t hold back, he’s right there to catch me.
He doesn’t wait long before he pulls away. I collapse face-first onto the sofa. I’m not complaining; I’d gladly bury myself inside this couch if I could.
Eric grabs a couple of tissues from a fancy metal holder. I think he’s going to pass them to me for a second, but before I can respond, he bends down and takes care of me himself. His hands are gentle, his gaze staying fixated on his work. I just lie there in awe and let him.
Then, head still woozy, I watch as he rises back up to his full height. He pulls his boxer briefs back on, then walks over to the bar in the corner.
“Drink?”
It’s tempting. Especially because the offer suggests that he wants me to stay a little longer. The thing is, I feel good. Like, really good. But I don’t want to burst the bubble by overstaying my welcome. And since I’m almost certain that being kicked out again is going to bring my high crashing down, I decide to stick to my guns and leave immediately.
“No, thanks. Don’t wanna risk a hangover. I have work tomorrow and my boss can be a nightmare.”
He smirks. “Is that so?”
I nod. “But he isn’t all bad. At least he pays me well.”
“Hm. As you wish.” Eric gives me a little smile that makes me suddenly wish I hadn’t just turned down his offer to stay.
No. Distance is better. Distance keeps you safe.
“Goodnight, Mr. Wood.”
“Goodnight, Catherine.”
I dress quickly, cheeks burning—both sets of cheeks—then leave without looking back. On the way down in the elevator, I let out a low breath that turns into a disbelieving laugh. This whole thing still feels too surreal to be happening to me.
This time, when I pass the guard at the security desk, I give him a huge, confident smile. A smile that says, Yeah that’s right. I had hot, sweaty, nasty sex with a hot, sweaty, nasty man, but I am no one’s prostitute. I am my own woman. I protect my own heart.
And when I do leave one day—whenever that day comes—I’m going to leave Eric Wood wanting more.