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.

loud, wet slap of flesh against flesh. My breasts bounce with the efforts of his thrusts. I can’t help but release

I feel closer and closer to the man who has remained such an emotional anomaly to me. As I watch his sculpted body

moment when he picked me up on that horrible night, and the

promised that I still had

when he told me he wanted me with him

“Dom!”

sweaty chests are pressed together

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

I can feel the secret tenderness he tries so desperately to keep reined in. His thumb finds my center and rubs it in methodical

Despite my best

Dominic gathers me close, holding me against his

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

himself up, propped on his elbows over me. His eyes are hooded and his forehead is beaded with sweat. I hold his

a blink, he’s gone, both physically

removing himself from my soft touch almost as fast as he ripped off my clothes. He walks across the room, tosses the used condom in the trash, and