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Such a knifing slash of pleasure shot through her, she cried out, toes curling in delight.
He lifted his head. “Good?” he rasped.
“Yes,” she moaned, letting her eyes blink open long enough to be confused by the beams in the ceiling. She’d forgotten where she was.
Then he was licking and teasing her nipple again, plunging her back into ecstasy while pulsing the tip of his erection in exactly the right place to coil the tension within her. She was aroused more than she knew how to bear and writhed, needing to escape that excruciatingly intimate pressure between her thighs because she was arriving on a ledge that couldn’t hold her. It was too narrow, but each wriggle of agony pushed her closer to toppling off it.
“Atlas,” she gasped.
He sucked her nipple again, hard, and sheshattered. Ragged noises came out of her, noises she’d never made in her life. She shuddered in release, clinging to him, ankles locked behind his back, keeping him pinned in place while the contractions racked her.
As she sobbed helplessly, still in the throes of her orgasm, he brought his mouth to hers. His body was tense and his hips were heavy where they pinned hers to the desk. His kiss was passionate, and hungry, but sweet. Almost tender.
“You’ve wanted this as badly as I have,” he said with a gritty laugh against her trembling mouth. He ran his restless lips along the edge of her jaw. “I’ve never been so hard in my life. I have a condom on me if you want to change your mind about having sex.”
“Wh-what?” Her body was molasses, her brain incapable of thought.
“I always carry them.” His thumb caressed beneath her ear. “It’s not premeditated.” He looked at her through weighted eyelids, cheeks flushed, but he clearly had all his wits about him while she was still trying to gather hers after completely abandoning herself.
The hand she slid to his shoulder was pure reflex. She needed air. Space to think. It was hitting her how quickly she had lost herself. Why did he always make her behave like this?
“Wise.” He straightened, drawing her to sit up and helping her straighten her clothing. The tension in his expression changed to something more contained. “We should discuss the ground rules before we go any further.”
Ground rules? She didn’t know how to talk about sex. She didn’t know how to do it! Everything about them was unequal, especially this. Look at him. He was completely in control and she had none. The embarrassment creeping over her was so profound, so visceral, her throat burned. Her eyes stung, making her blink to stave off tears.
“Stella.” He dipped his head, brows crashing together. “Did I hurt you? Why are you crying?”
How utterly humiliating. She was acting like the virgin she was—as though that had been her first orgasm ever.
When it was actually the first one that someone else had delivered, but that was no excuse for acting so callow.
She wanted to run away again. Far away. She let herself imagine quitting her job and catching a train and starting over where no one knew her—which was a ridiculously melodramatic reaction to something that had only gone a little further than the encounter they’d had five years ago. What must he think of her?
“Stella.” He touched her chin, trying to make her look at him.
She brushed his hand away and ducked her head.
“I—” She gulped back her rush of emotion. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” She meant the tears. This was awful. “Can you—” She pushed at his chest until she was able to slide off the desk, but her knees still felt soft.
He caught her elbow and she pulled away, fearful she’d fall straight back into his arms. Straight back onto her back.
“You’re perfectly safe, Stella.”
No, she wasn’t! She was going to have an affair with him and he would break her heart and destroy her life even worse than he already had.
But not yet. Not yet.
“It’s been a long day.” She stumbled down the stairs and locked herself into the bedroom again.
CHAPTER FOUR
ATLAS BARELY SLEPT.
After leaving Stella’s bag outside her door, and knocking briefly to tell her it was there, he worked himself into exhaustion in the fitness room, then went to bed in the primary bedroom on the top floor.
He felt her two floors beneath him, though. He felt every roll of her body between the sheets, heard every sigh. He held the scent of her skin in his nostrils and imagined the brush of her hair against his cheek.
Had he pushed her too far, too fast? She’d had her legs around his waist and had bucked beneath him. She had pulled her shirt up herself and said “yes.”