This was no gentle kiss. He didn’t have that in him. Not now. He wanted her to the point of madness. He drove his tongue into her mouth, moaning when he tasted the sweet, moist cavern.
His fingers were busy and he had her coat open and off in a heartbeat. Her purse landed with a thump beside it. Missy twined her arms around his neck as he continued to plunder her mouth. He sucked her tongue hard and moaned when she scraped her teeth over his.
He backed her up against the wall and grabbed her leg, pulling high and tight to his hip. Missy arched her hips and ground them against his cock. T.S. was lost in a swirling mass of need. He had to have her. Now.
Missy couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Not with T.S. kissing her like she was the very air he needed to survive. He’d been so cold, so distant. For a moment she’d been afraid he was simply going to walk away from her.
The warm lover she’d grown to know so well had been nowhere in sight. In his place had been a cold, distant man. She’d done that to him. It hurt her to think she’d been responsible for such pain.
They hadn’t settled things yet. She still didn’t know what had happened. How he’d ended up in prison. But that didn’t matter now. Time enough to talk about that later. She was in his arms where she belonged. And he was in hers.
The wall was hard against her back, but T.S. was even harder against her front. His cock was hard and full against her sex as she worked her hips. Even through her skirt, she could feel him pressing against her clit. Heat and need suffused her. She had to get closer to him.
Her fingers tore at his T-shirt, yanking it from the waistband of his jeans. She pushed beneath it and her hands found warm slabs of flesh. T.S. was ripped, every muscle hard and delineated. She stroked upward and found his flat nipples. He pulled his mouth from hers and swore when she dragged her thumbs over the hard points.
His breathing was as ragged as hers. He stared down at her, his eyes blazing with desire. There was no warning before he gripped the sides of her blouse and tugged. Buttons pinged off the floor and wall as the material was ripped open.
He didn’t bother to undo her bra, but pushed it up, exposing the dark mounds. He made a sound in the back of his throat, much like a wounded moan, before swooping down to capture one tight nipple in his mouth. His tongue laved the tip as his teeth held it gently captive.
She couldn’t touch him enough, get close enough.
T.S. released the taut bud and blew. She shivered and gasped, trying to tug him back to her breast. He nuzzled his way to the other one and went to work.
Missy’s fingers found his belt buckle, fumbling with it until it came free. The button of his jeans was no problem. The zipper was next.
His erection brushed the back of her fingers through his boxer briefs. He was hard and hot and more than ready.
“Touch me,” he commanded. He pushed his erection against her hand.
Missy shoved the material out of her way and closed her fingers around him. They both moaned as he pulsed against her. She licked her lips, wanting to taste him.
He took a half step back and she went to her knees in front of him. His fingers tangled in her hair as he angled his cock toward her lips. The dark blue veins running up and down the thick shaft throbbed with need and the plum-shaped head was dark and wet.
Missy licked at the tip, tasting the salty liquid seeping from it. She pumped her hand up and down his hard length, continuing to tease his cock head with her tongue and lips. She kissed and laved, licking it like it was a treat long denied.
“Suck me.” He pressed the tip against her lips and she parted them, taking him into her mouth. “Fuck, yes.” He started flexing his hips, driving his cock deeper into her mouth. She moved her hand up on his shaft, controlling the depth of his thrusts.
She raked her teeth softly over him, teasing, taunting. Her breasts ached so she rubbed them against his jean-clad thighs. The rough material felt wonderful against her peaked nipples.
Capturing his testicles with her free hand, she gently squeezed. They were tight and full.
T.S. pulled back suddenly, his cock coming out of her mouth with a wet pop. He yanked her to her feet and thrust her against the wall. His hands roughly shoved her skirt around her waist and his fingers delved between her thighs. She was wearing stockings so the only barrier was her underwear.
Thin, delicate material ripped. Then he was touching her where she needed it most. He stroked the slick folds of her pussy before pressing inside. A low, keening sound broke from her throat. She was so ready. She needed him.
“Theo.” He jerked at the sound of his name. For a brief second she thought he might say something. Then the moment was gone. He lifted her leg, opening her even more for his touch. She felt the head of his cock against her slit and then he was pushing inside. There was no hesitation. He kept going until he was buried as far as he could go.
Missy clutched his shoulders and fought for breath. The sensation of his cock stretching her, her inner muscles closing tight around him, was unbelievably erotic. She could feel him pulsing hard inside her.
He buried his face in the curve of her neck and started to thrust. Missy arched her hips toward him on each inward stroke, welcoming him, needing him.
She moaned his name again as she worked her pelvis against his, wanting him deeper and harder. “More,” she gasped.
He nipped at her neck, the slight stinging pain making her lose her rhythm. He growled deep in his throat and began to piston his hips faster and faster. He angled his body with each thrust so her clit brushed against him. It was maddening. She was so close.
Missy hung on and tried to keep up with him. His fingers slipped between them and captured one of her breasts. He tweaked the nipple. Lightning shot from her breast to her core and back again.
She panted his name, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He drove deep and she felt his cock ripple inside her. Wet heat filled her, pushing her over the edge. She cried out, her body spasming, her inner muscles contracting hard around his shaft, milking it dry.
She slumped against the wall, thankful to have the support. T.S. had one hand pressed against the wall to prop himself up. His chest was still heaving when he pulled out of her. She missed him already.
The cool air wafted over her skin. She glanced down at her exposed skin. Her skirt was twisted around her waist, her panties hanging on by the waistband. Her bra was rucked up and her blouse was wide open.
The rasp of a zipper brought her attention to T.S. He was fully dressed once again, his jeans zipped and his T-shirt pulled down.
Missy hurriedly shoved her skirt down, ignoring the slick wetness between her thighs. He hadn’t worn a condom. Not that it really mattered. They’d talked about this. They were both free from disease and she was on the Pill. No wonder he’d felt ultra good inside her.
She pulled her bra back into place and was stymied by her blouse. There was only one button left on it. The rest were on the floor somewhere.
T.S. came to her and closed up that lone button, a half smile on his face. When he was done, he caught her chin in his hand and leaned down to brush a soft kiss against her lips. “You’re not icy at all. You’re hot.”
She frowned for a moment and then the bit of conversation she’d overheard between him and Lucas came back to her full force. Ice queen. She knew men had called her that before and worse. Had this been simply nothing more than him trying to prove he could thaw her? A matter of salvaging some pride?
Missy quickly thought back. He’d accepted her apology but had given no indication that he wanted anything more to do with her. In fact, he’d been on his way out the door before she’d stopped him.