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.

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 flesh against flesh. My breasts bounce with the efforts of his thrusts. I can’t help but release quiet gasps every time I feel the tip of him hit that once mythical, now very real sweet spot inside

such an emotional anomaly to me.

he picked me up on that horrible night, and the

moment his gruff voice over the phone promised that I still had my job, and elation

moment in his office when he told me he wanted

“Dom!”

leans closer so our naked, sweaty chests are pressed together in an intimate embrace.

his neck. I

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 closer to the edge, my eyelids flutter closed and I brace myself

falling for him. Despite my best

over the edge again, Dominic gathers me close, holding me against

me tightens as he finds his own release. The sound he’s making—somewhere between a gasp and a groan—is

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

blink, he’s gone, both

clothes. He walks across the room, tosses the used condom in the trash, and picks up his boxers, tugging them on. Then he grabs his laptop. He’s already on his way into the living