Chapter 8—Madison

I looked down at Craig, and even from up here I could see the desire burning in his eyes. It was the same look I had every time I looked at Steven. I tilted my head to the side, giving Steven’s lips greater access to my neck.

Did I want forever or tonight? I wanted both. And I wanted them with Steven. I knew forever and Steven would never happen, though. I’d worry about that later. Right now, all I wanted was him.

“You were right about one thing,” I said.

“What was that?”

“I enjoyed the hell out of your kiss.”

He chuckled softly, his lips still working along my neck. “Let me show you what else I can do that you’ll enjoy the hell out of.”

I laughed.

“Madison?” His voice sent shivers down my spine. “Me or him?”

“You.” I never once hesitated.

“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing my hand and dragging me through a door that led to the club office.

He flipped on the lights, kicked the door closed, and yanked his shirt off before I even had a chance to turn around. His arms wrapped around me, lifting me off my feet like I weighed nothing, and set me on top of the desk. I propped myself up on my hands, taking what precious few seconds I had to admire his perfectly sculpted pecs, his bulging arms, and washboard abs. I let out a low appreciative whistle. “Wow.”

Steven stood between my legs, smiling. “Like what you see?”

“Yes,” I said, unable to look away. I wanted to lick every inch of him.

“It’s my turn,” he said, grabbing the string on my shirt, and giving it a hard yank. “Sweet fucking Jesus.”

“You like?” I asked with a smile.

“God those are great breasts,” he said, taking them into his hands.

His compliment kicked my pulse into overdrive. He lowered his head, taking my nipple into his mouth, his tongue teasing it into a painfully hard peak.

“Yes,” I hissed through my teeth, arching my back, driving my tit deeper into his mouth. The sensation was both too much and not enough. I thrust my fingers in his hair and dragged his mouth to mine. He kissed me frantically, his lips clashing and clinging to mine, his tongue possessing my mouth.

I heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper. I closed my eyes and sighed. Part of me wanted to beg him to slow down so that I could have a clear memory of this night. The other part of me wanted to grab his dick and shove it deep inside of me. Then, I heard the rip of foil, and I knew he was getting ready to put a condom on. At least he was safe.

“I want to feel your legs wrapped around me,” he said in a raspy voice as he hiked my skirt up around my waist. “Sonofabitch you’re not wearing any panties.” His voice sounded more like a growl.

“Oh come on, Steven. That shocks you?” Surely he’d been with women who hadn’t worn panties.

“Knowing it’s you, yes. How often do you go commando?”

“Most of the time.”

“Fuck me that’s so damn hot,” he said, claiming my lips again, his fingers greedily exploring my sensitive folds.

It didn’t take long. It never did. I was gasping for breath in between his heated kisses, my hips bucking against his hand, my impending orgasm growing stronger with each stroke of his finger. “Steven, please, stop,” I begged.

He tore his lips from mine. “What? You want me to stop?”

“No, I mean, yes.” I sighed with frustration. Why couldn’t I just have an orgasm like a normal person? “Just fuck me already,” I blurted out. He pressed the head of his cock into my pussy, and I screamed at the feel of him stretching me. Holy hell he was big.

His hands clutched my hips, his head fell back to his shoulders, and he groaned loudly as he eased all the way into me and then stopped. I looked up at him. Teeth gritted, eyes squeezed shut, face contorted in a grimace, he looked like he was in pain.

“Steven? Are you okay?” I asked, my tone barely above a whisper.

He blew out the breath he’d been holding, put his palms flat on the desk, leaned over, and kissed me so hard my lips tingled with numbness when he released them. Slowly, he withdrew his cock, then just as slowly thrust it back into me. I hadn’t pegged Steven for the slow sex kind of guy. I wrapped my legs around him, crossing my ankles behind his back.

“Motherfucker you feel so good,” he grunted, his teeth scraping down my neck until his mouth closed around my nipple again.

“Oh yeah,” I moaned, arching into his touch. I brought my hands to his shoulders, letting my fingers trail down his mountainous arms and then back up again. Feeling his cock inside of me, his strong body on top of mine, his hot breath on my neck…none of it was enough. I wanted his arms wrapped around me, holding me so tight against him, I wouldn’t be able to tell where he stopped and I started.

The speed and intensity of his thrusts increased, and I clung to him, feeling that familiar buzz at the base of my spine and in my toes. Dear God, please let him do it—let him bring me to orgasm. “Steven, yes, more, please.”

He stilled, his entire body tensed. “Shit,” he groaned.

I wiggled beneath him, trying to urge him to move.

“Don’t. Move,” he commanded.

“Steven. Please. I have to move,” I whined. And I really did. My clit ached with need. My pussy throbbed around his steel hard cock, and I was going to internally combust if I didn’t get some relief. And then I felt a small movement from him—a tiny rotation of his hips, enough to make me moan his name with sheer ecstasy. “Yes, Steven. Fuck me hard.”

“Madison,” he growled my name, his eyes darker than the ocean in a midnight storm. His hips lunged forward in a fast, steady rhythm. “Stop saying shit like that to me.”

Was he being serious? Didn’t guys like it when girls talked dirty during sex?

“I’m barely holding on as it is.” His voice softened, and he gave me another taste of his glorious mouth. “Fuck, Madison. I can’t…it’s too good. God, baby, please, come for me.”

No man had ever asked me to come for him. Nor had any man ever held back his own gratification for the sake of mine. In that moment, I decided to let go. I cleared my mind of any lingering thoughts or doubts, and I just allowed myself to feel. I wished I’d learned to do that years ago because the force of the orgasm that took over my body was debilitating.

“Yeah, that’s it, Madison,” he crooned at my ear. “Do you feel that?”

Hell yeah I felt it. He grew painfully larger inside of me. One second I was tightening around his cock, breathing so heavy I was making myself dizzy, and the next second I was blinking my eyes open, looking up into Steven’s concerned face.

“You okay?” he asked.

I simply nodded because I wasn’t sure I could speak. I hated myself for momentarily blacking out, but that was the most intense orgasm I’d ever had.

He eased out of me, stood, and turned his back to me. I climbed off the desk, feeling slightly embarrassed and more than a little hurt that he didn’t want to look at me. I fixed my skirt, re-tied my shirt, and brushed my fingers through my hair.

“I have to help Craig close up,” he said, turning to look at me.

Great. Here it comes. The old “it’s been fun, we should do it again sometime” blow off. I shouldn’t be upset. It was Steven Lane after all. The king of one-night stands. He had told me all he could give me was one night. I chewed on my cheek and looked down in a pathetic attempt to fight the tears that burned in my throat. I was an idiot to think I could handle this.

Steven gathered me in his arms and lifted my chin. He planted two soft kisses—one on each corner of my mouth. I longed for more. “I want you to go to my bungalow and wait for me.”

“What?”

“That,” he said, nodding at the desk, “was just a taste.”

“A taste?” I must sound like a total dumbass, but I couldn’t seem to get my mind around what he was saying.

“Mm-hmm.” His tongue slipped into my mouth, caressing the confusion from my mind while stroking my desire for him higher. “A quickie on the desk doesn’t come close to quenching my need for you.”

“It doesn’t?”

He smiled and shook his head. “The door is unlocked. Go in and make yourself comfortable. I shouldn’t be long.”

“Okay.” What else was I supposed to say? I guess it didn’t matter because once I felt his mouth covering mine again I totally forgot what we were talking about anyway. Damn he knew how to kiss.

“I promise next time will be better,” he said.

Better than what we’d just done? Was that even possible? “Wait, what happened to only giving me one night?” I asked.

“Night’s not over.” He winked.

Technically, it was, but I wasn’t about to argue that point with him. I kept my mouth shut and left, walking to his bungalow in a daze. Was I really about to spend the night with Steven? Don’t be a fool. You’re going to have sex with him, and then you’re going to go home. Steven Lane doesn’t do sleepovers.