Chapter 28 You wanted it yeah?

Chapter 28 You wanted it yeah?
Elena Thorne

His hands worked the clasp of my bra with practiced ease, and then he took that off, joining the growing pile of discarded clothing. Cool air hit my skin for a moment before his palms covered me, warm and possessive.

“So responsive,” he said, almost to himself, as his fingers rolled my nipples. “I could do this for hours. Watch you fall apart just from this.”

“Kieran—” His name came out as a plea.

“What do you need?” His mouth was at my ear, his body pressed against my back. “Tell me.”

“You know what I need.”

“Say it anyway. I want to hear you say it.”

I turned my head to look at him over my shoulder, and the heat in his eyes nearly undid me. “I need you inside me. Now.”

His pupils dilated, and I heard the clink of his belt buckle, the rustle of fabric as he freed himself. Then he was back, one hand on my hip, the other braced against the wall beside mine.

“Spread your legs a little wider,” he instructed, and I did, feeling exposed and wanting all at once.

I felt him then, the hard length of him pressing against me, and my breath stuttered at the memory of three days ago, of how he’d filled me.

“Ready?” His voice was strained, like he was holding himself back by sheer force of will.

“Yes.”

He entered me slowly, giving me time to adjust, and the stretch of it made me gasp. My hands pressed harder against the wall, supporting myself as he slid deeper.

“Fuckkk!” he groaned against my shoulder. “You feel—Elena, you feel—”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, and I understood because I couldn’t form words either. The fullness, the rightness of it, the way my body accommodated him like we’d been designed for this exact fit—it was overwhelming.

“Move,” I demanded, and felt him smile against my skin.

“Bossy.” But he complied, pulling out slowly before sliding back in, and the friction sent sparks up my spine.

He set a rhythm that was maddeningly measured. Deep strokes that hit places inside me that made my vision blur, but too slow to give me what I needed.

“Kieran—” His name came out as a whine.

“What’s wrong?” He sounded far too composed for someone currently buried inside me. “Not enough?”

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what?” Another slow, deep thrust that made my toes curl.

“Teasing me.”

“I thought you wanted me to stop teasing.” His hand moved from my hip to between my legs, and then his fingers found the bundle of nerves there and began circling it with just enough pressure to make me moan. “Or did you change your mind?”

“I hate you,” I gasped, and he laughed.

“No, you don’t.” He picked up the pace slightly, his hips snapping against mine with more force. “You hate that you want this. That’s different.”

He wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t about to admit it. Not when his fingers were moving in tight circles, when each thrust was hitting that perfect spot, and  I could feel the tension building low in my belly.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice rough. “I can feel you tightening around me. You’re close, aren’t you?”

I couldn’t answer. Could only press my forehead against the cool tile and take what he was giving me, my body chasing the release that was building with every movement.

His free hand moved from the wall to my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers with just enough pressure to toe the line between pleasure and pain. The combination of sensations was too much—his thickness inside me, his fingers between my legs, his hand on my breast, his mouth on my shoulder.

“Come for me,” he commanded against my ear. “Let me feel it.”

The orgasm hit me like a wave, rolling through me in pulses that made my legs shake and my hands scramble against the wall for purchase. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, aware even through the pleasure that we were in a public bathroom during a conference, but a moan escaped anyway.

“That’s it,” Kieran groaned, his rhythm faltering as I clenched around him. “Fuckkkk, Elena, that’s—”

His hips stuttered, and I felt him pulse inside me as he found his own release, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to leave marks. He buried his face against my neck, his breath hot against my skin, and for a moment we just stood there—him buried inside me, both of us trying to remember how to breathe.

Reality returned slowly. 

The fact that we’d just had sex in the bathroom against a wall during a pack political meeting.

Kieran pulled out, and I heard him dealing with the cleanup behind me. I stayed facing the wall, suddenly unsure how to turn around and face him after what we had just done.

“Elena.” His hand touched my shoulder gently. “You okay?”

“Yes, umm… I’m fine, I’m okay.” 

“Look at me.”

I turned slowly, hyperaware of my nakedness, and the fact that he was already mostly dressed again while I stood there completely exposed.

He must have read something in my expression because he immediately shrugged out of his undershirt and held it out to me. “Here.”

I took it, pulling it over my head. It fell to mid-thigh, smelling like him, and I hated how much comfort that brought me.

“Do you want us to talk about—” he started.

“No.” I bent to gather my clothes, avoiding his gaze. “We agreed. No emotional complications. We just had sex. It was good. That’s all there is to say.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean it, Kieran.” I finally looked at him, making sure my expression was as neutral as I could manage. 

“Isn’t this the arrangement you wanted, though? I don’t think you should act like you are not pleased with it.”

He stayed quiet for a while then shook his head. “You are right.”

We dressed in silence, and I tried not to think about how this was exactly what I’d agreed to. So why did I feel so hollow?

When we were both presentable, Kieran reached for the door lock.

“Wait five minutes before you come out,” he said, his tone seeming more reasonable now. “I’ll go back first. Less suspicious that way.”

“Fine.”

He paused with his hand on the lock, looking like he wanted to say something else. But whatever it was, he swallowed it down.

“See you back in the conference room,” he announced, and then he was gone.

I stayed in the bathroom for the full five minutes, staring at my reflection and trying to recognize the woman looking back at me.

She looked the same as she had an hour ago. Same face, same body.

But everything felt different.

I’d just agreed to be Kieran Silvermane’s convenient fuck buddy. 

I tried not to think about it as I stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing down my blazer, and forcing my expression back into something neutral. 

But the thoughts crowded in anyway.

The heat of Kiera’s hands and the sound of my name in his mouth.

I was so lost in it that I didn’t realize the obstruction in front of me till I collided with something solid. A hard unmoving chest.

The impact knocked the breath from my lungs, and strong hands caught my arms before I could stumble backward.

“Careful,” a deep voice said, edged with mild irritation but unmistakable authority. “You should watch where you’re going.”