Page 30 of Pillow Talk

He groans, pressing himself tighter into me, using his free hands to drag down my side until he grips my hip.

His arms turn me in a pirouette until I'm facing the glass. "Alexa." My names comes out as a plea. "Do you trust me?"

I nod, my head falling forward to rest on the cool glass.

"Put your hands on the glass, and leave them there for a second."

I do as he says. I want him more than anything. More than the job, the money, the clothes, any of it. I. Just. Want. Him.

I feel the zipper on the back of my dress, making a slow descent. His fingers brush my bare skin, and he takes his time, dragging it down. Inch. By. Inch.

The air is cool on my flushed skin, and the heavy fabric begins to slide further down with every fraction he lowers the zipper, until it finally falls to the ground in one, final swoosh. A puddle of tulle, lace and beads float like a dark cloud around my feet, which are still encased in my black jeweled stilettos.

His quick intake of breath causes wetness to flood my core. I'm stripped bare, both literally and figuratively, as I wait for his next move, my body humming in anticipation.

His hands barely graze my skin from my shoulders, down my ribs, hips, then thighs, and I feel him kneeling behind me.

Gentle fingers drag my panties down, the shimmery fabric slightly scratching as they glide across my skin. He taps for me to lift me feet, to step out of the panties. I look down to see what I'm doing, and it's so erotic, discovering him kneeling behind me, looking up at me, watching me as he removes the last of my attire.

I can feel his breathing pick up, blowing hot and heavy on the backs of my thighs.

Taking my legs in his hands, he moves them apart slightly. Then, placing one palm on my lower back, he applies pressure, causing my ass to stick up on the air so he has better access to where I need him most.

It is my turn to be speechless as he whispers across my sex, "I promised myself just one taste... That's all. But it wasn't enough. It'll never be enough, Alexa. Never."

He surprises me by tasting me from behind, teasing me with his tongue. I fall farther forward, my hands sliding down the glass until my forearms are pressed against the window, and as I try to support myself, he feasts on me, his fingers digging into my hips, holding me tight where he wants me before spinning me around and pulling one leg over his shoulder. The sudden change in position has my first orgasms crashing through me.

My back arches into the glass. Crying out in pleasure, I start to slide, and his steady hands keep me from falling.

He stands, lifting me into his arms, and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist, grinding against him. Only tuxedo pants separate us. The pad of his thumb runs across my bottom lip, and I stare into his eyes.

And in this moment of weakness, I don't care what it costs me. What I could lose is irrelevant because I know I would do anything to keep his eyes on me the way they search me out and tie me in knots across a crowded room.

He walks us into the bedroom and lays me back on the bed, removing my heels, one then the other.

I would do whatever it takes for his hands to hold my body captive the way he holds my heart.

His hands are everywhere, touching, teasing, pleasuring. His lips mingle with mine before traveling down my neck, making the descent to kiss his way greedily all over my chest, then working his way back up.

Sex with him. It's not an action as much as an experience—one that demands all my attention and assaults all my senses. He rolls on the condom and lines himself up to me.

But instead of driving in like I expect him to, he changes the pace and drags himself up and down my throbbing opening.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

I nearly pass out from the intensity when we finally come together.

I open my eyes to find him watching me. I struggle to keep them open and focused on his, not wanting to miss a single second of what's happening.

There are no words to describe what I’m feeling. I only hope he feels the same.

Rolling to his side, he pulls me with him, and I snuggle in to his embrace. Neither of us wanting to break the moment.

“This time, this changes everything," He whispers into my hair.

I lift my head to look up at him and see that my Ben is back, the one I came here with and the one I met in the diner.

The one I fell for in the confines of this room, not the Ben he is in the boardroom.

"I'm sorry--" he starts.

"Shhhhh..." I kiss his lips gently to quiet him. "I'm just glad to finally have you back."

He nods as if he knows exactly what I mean, discarding the condom, he pulls me to him and holds me tightly. I snuggle into his embrace and drift to sleep.

Tonight, there will be no pillow talk. There are no words. Just action, and that’s worth a million words.