Page 81 of Pink Ink

When he opens his mouth, his voice is hoarse, like speaking is the last thing on his mind. “Keep talking, Miss Sinaga.”

“Mr. Shaw?”

His features shudder. “Say my name.”

I hesitate before whispering, “Maddox.”

“Fuck it.”

His fingers thread through my hair, and he captures my lips in a kiss that shatters my axis. The world skitters to a halt while my soul expands with feather-soft light as if I were the one who put the sun in the sky and he’s finally getting to see it.

Maddox’s grip on me tightens, and he angles my head to take me deeper, like he might lose his grasp on reality if he doesn’t. My lips move with the same tender demand as his, but I waver. The kiss lingers, silently communicating what he isn’t saying with words. He’s giving me the chance to find the door or remind him that we can’t touch. I pull away to stare up at him.

This was—is—a bad idea. I’m falling, and he’s going to walk away the second I land, and he won’t be there to help me back up. I’m a blip on his radar. Something that will come along and disappear by the end of the year, when I’ll be left picking up my broken pieces, while he’ll continue as before.

I’m hisstudentfor Christ’s sake. Nothing about that kind of arrangement is permanent. Once he gets a taste, he’ll leave.

And then? I’ll be hurt, but so what? I’ll live. I can bounce back. At least then I’ll remember what it’s like to be kissed by Maddox Shaw.

Despite my turmoil, he’s looking at me like I’m the only person he’s ever wanted and will ever want. Each glance is a risk. Every touch is another nail in the coffin. I want this. Even for a little while.

I don’t think it through or give myself another chance to hesitate. Like he put it so eloquently:Fuck it.

I slam my lips against his, and this time it isn’t loving or tender—it’s desperate. Maddox kisses me back like I’m the first drop of water and he’s parched.

Our mouths move together with the familiarity of people who’ve done this a thousand times before, in sync and frantic. The softness of his lips is a shocking contrast to the harsh stubble along his jaw.

When he deepens the kiss this time, our tongues dance together. I let my inhibitions fall away, grinding against his leg, clawing at his shirt, and letting breathy moans fall past my lips. My entire being lights up under his touch, and whatever indiscretions from the past disintegrate with it. Maybe I’ll pay for this crime later. For now, I only care about making the most of this moment while I can.

He wrenches his coat and jacket off and throws them somewhere behind him. I fist his hair as he hoists my legs up around his waist, and the air rushes out of me when my back hits the door, rattling it on its hinges.

Desire pools low in my stomach. I arch my back to push my center against the hard buckle of his pants and a whimper escapes me.I need more.

Strong hands grope my ass and grind me against his length. My eyes roll to the back of my head as he pulls my bottom lip between his teeth before trailing ravenous kisses along the column of my throat.

Maddox yanks down my neckline, popping the stitches of my top to suck the sensitive skin into his mouth. The silky, dark strands of his hair fall onto his face and against my chin. His belt rubs against my clit, sending jolts of lightning through my bones, and God help me, I think I could come from this alone.

His lips work their magic along my throat as I shamelessly buck my hips to bring myself closer to the edge. I curse from the magnetizing sensations, cradling the back of his head to get him to keep going.

If he’d move his fingers a couple of inches closer to my middle, he’d know how soaked he’s made me. He keeps kissing my neck and running his teeth over my skin like a damn vampire, but I don’t have it in me to care about the marks he’s leaving behind. I keep rolling my hips, getting needier every second I’m left empty.

“Please,” I beg. I need more than just this. The single syllable comes out on a whimper, and I’m not sure what I’m asking for. I can hardly string together a complete sentence. I’m so close to bursting, and so far from it at the same time.

Maddox doesn’t give himself a moment to catch his breath before his lips are back on mine, and he’s gripping my legs, walking us toward—I don’t know toward what. I don’t think I care at this point. He could be taking us down the hall, and that wouldn’t make me break this kiss.

I need this.

I needhim.

Something cold presses against my back. It shocks me out of my trance long enough for me to scowl as he sets me down on the edge of the windowsill and pulls away so my fingers are no longer threaded through his hair. It’s an uncomfortable height where only the tips of my toes reach the wooden floor, and if the sexual frustration wasn’t enough to piss me off, the lack of physical touch is.

The thin fabric of my pantyhose tears beneath his hands before I can protest my new position, and a rush of air assaults the apex of my inner thighs.

The Neanderthal justrippedmy tights.

I gawk at him. “You couldn’t have taken them off like a normal person? Those were expensive.”

“Send me the link. I’ll buy you another.” He yanks his tie loose and pops open the button of his collar. He falters, eyes glazing when they drop to the lacy pair I donned today. I felt so audacious this morning when I picked them out. I wistfully thought that something might happen, and I wanted to impress him.