Seven Nights of Sin (Penthouse Affair #2)

Presley

Tonight has taken a turn I never could have imagined. I know I should guard my heart, that I shouldn’t romanticize this moment, but it’s too late. We move together perfectly, my soft pants punctuating the moment that has grown heavy with expectation.

His cuff links rest beside my earrings on the bedside table. Our laptop bags sit side by side on the floor near the desk. I have no idea what it all means, but something big, surely.

I feel so many warring emotions at once, it’s hard to focus on them all. First, there’s pleasure unlike any I’ve ever known. But more than that, there’s relief at his forgiveness, and somehow too, I can also feel him releasing all the baggage of his past, excising it with precision as our bodies meld together.

Dominic fills me in a way I never could have imagined. He must feel it too, this powerful pull, because we release a simultaneous groan in the otherwise silent room.

He withdraws briefly, guiding me onto my back so he can hover over me. In this new position, I can see his eyes. I just wish his emotions were as easy to read as his pleasure.

His pupils are dilated and his lips part with a silent moan. He pushes in to the hilt, and I wrap my legs high around his hips, grinding myself closer.

“Uh . . . that’s so good, baby.” He groans, his voice deep.

I know by now not to read too much into the sweet endearment.

strokes. I’m still so sensitive from my earlier release that I have to dig my fingernails into his shoulders for stability. I can hear the sounds of our sex, a loud, wet slap of

remained such an emotional anomaly to me. As I watch his sculpted

up on that horrible night, and the instant relief I felt just being

that I still had my job, and elation soared inside

in his office when he told me he wanted

“Dom!”

name, he leans closer so our naked, sweaty chests are pressed together in an intimate embrace. He moves above me,

fingers through his thick, dark hair, gripping it in my fists. I can feel the goose bumps rise on the back of his neck. I can feel him coming close with every shaky breath he takes, and I love knowing that I’m

my earlobe, and my lips, I can feel the secret tenderness he tries so desperately to keep reined in. His thumb finds my center and rubs it in methodical circles, just how he knows I like. As I get closer and

for him. Despite my

Dominic gathers me close, holding me against

my breast, Dominic releases a soft grunt, and his grip on me tightens as he finds his own release. The sound he’s making—somewhere between a gasp and a groan—is like a drug. I would let him do anything to me just to

are hooded and his forehead is beaded with sweat. I hold his firm biceps in my shaking hands, rubbing my thumbs against the muscle with

a blink, he’s

ripped off my clothes. He walks across the room, tosses the used condom in the trash,