Page 34 of Meet Me In The Dark (Skeptically In Love #3)

Julian

I’m already hard enough to cut glass by the time Celeste’s car pulls up, headlights sweeping across the dirt and steel skeleton of what’s going to be mine.

When she steps out, I swear my lungs fill for the first time in five days.

She strolls toward me with that deliberate ease she wears so well, but we both know the only place she wants to be is in my arms.

“What are we doing here?” she asks, looking around at the construction site.

“I’ve been away for almost a week,” I tell her, keeping my tone casual even though there’s nothing casual about the way I’m looking at her. “I want you to update me on progress.”

“It’s going to be dark soon.”

“Don’t we always do our best work in the dark?”

Color blooms across her cheeks, and I’m already moving in close enough to trace that flush with my thumb.

“Hi,” she breathes, her smile catching me off guard.

“Hi,” I say back, but I don’t kiss her. Not yet. “Lead the way.”

She gives me a skeptical look over her shoulder, but she walks ahead.

We step inside the shell of the building, the first floor already framed out. Steel beams rise around us as the smell of fresh lumber and concrete mixes with the dust in the air. Tarps hang along the outer edges, shielding the interior from prying eyes and the bite of the wind.

She walks through it with ease, pointing out where walls will stand, where the bones of something bigger are starting to take shape.

Crossing the open expanse, she flips on a portable work light in the corner. The sudden glow cuts through the shadows, throwing long lines across the bare floor and the columns that will carry this whole place upward.

When she turns back to me, the last streaks of daylight are fading behind her, and the city skyline is fractured through the open gaps in the tarps.

“Welcome to the start of your lobby,” she says with a grin. “It’s huge, I know.”

It’s nothing but raw concrete, exposed wiring, and the echo of our voices right now, but standing here, with her in the middle of it, I can already see exactly what it’s going to be.

“Impressive,” I say, though my eyes aren’t on the concrete or the steel.

They take a deliberate tour down her body, from the fall of her hair over one shoulder to the curve of her satin blouse, and the way that fitted skirt hugs her hips.

She’s standing in the middle of a construction site, but she looks like she walked straight out of one of my better fantasies.

Her eyes track the movement as I slide my hand into the inside pocket of my jacket and pull out the scrap of lace, letting it dangle from my fingers.

The panties she slipped into my pocket five days ago.

“You think you’re not getting punished for this?” My voice is low, but I know she can hear the weight behind it.

She chews her bottom lip before the smallest smile curves there. “That was the whole point.”

Of course it was. This fucking woman.

I tilt my head toward the workbench behind her. “Turn around, Celeste, and put your hands on the table.”

Her breathing picks up, just enough for me to notice, but she turns and presses her palms flat on the surface, keeping her back straight as she waits for the next order.

“Pull up your skirt.”

There’s an audible hitch in her breath before she slides the black fabric up her thighs inch by inch.

I stand back for a moment, letting myself take in the curve of her perfect ass and the way her spine arches ever so slightly. She’s already squirming under my gaze, because she knows I’m taking my time.

And she’s completely bare .

No panties.

Fuck.

“You came here like this?”

She glances over her shoulder, her eyes meeting mine with a spark of challenge. “Didn’t see the point, considering you said you were going to put those ones back on me.”

The corner of my mouth twitches, but I hold my ground.

Not yet.

I want her right on the edge before I touch her.

I close the remaining space between us and squeeze her ass hard enough to make her gasp.

“Lift your foot,” I instruct.

When she does, I slide the lace up her leg. My knuckles brush her calf, the back of her knee, her thigh, before I turn to the other foot and do the same.

Over her shoulder, she keeps her eyes fixed on me.

When the panties are in place, I drop to my knees. She’s the only thing I’m thinking about. The grit and dust under me can go to hell.

I hook my fingers in the waistband, my mouth brushing the swell of her hip. “As promised.”

Then I remove them the way I said I would.

With my teeth.

I hear her breath catch and feel her body shivering as I drag the lace down over her hips, her thighs, until they’re nothing but a heap on the floor.

The view is enough to test my patience, but I’m not here to look.

I’m here to taste.

My hands grip her hips as I lean in, my mouth finding her from behind, my tongue sweeping over her in slow strokes that make her legs shift under her. I hold her steady and do it again, deeper this time, until the first sound leaves her throat.

Fuck, I missed this.

I missed her.

Her thighs tense under my hands as I run my tongue through her again and press harder just to hear that soft, breathless sound she makes when she can’t hold it in.

“Julian…” It’s half warning, half plea.

I spread her wider, dragging her back just enough so I can get my mouth exactly where I want it. My tongue flicks over her clit, then flattens against it, pushing until she gasps and tries to push forward.

Closing my lips around her, I suck and hold her in place, forcing her to take it exactly how I give it.

“Don’t run from it,” I tell her against her skin.

She moans, the sound echoing in the half-finished space, as I push my tongue inside her, fucking her with it until she’s squirming and rocking against my face in a desperate rhythm she can’t control.

Her taste is all I’ve thought about for five goddamn days.

She’s gripping the bench so hard now her knuckles are white.

“That’s it,” I murmur. “Right there. Stay with me.”

She makes another sound, broken this time, and I know she’s close. I suck harder, alternating with firm strokes of my tongue, every flick made to drag her right to the edge.

When she finally comes, it’s with a sharp cry, and her whole body shudders under my hands. I keep going, drawing it out, forcing her to ride it until her legs threaten to give way beneath her.

She’s still catching her breath when I stand .

Sliding my hand up her back until I’m gripping the back of her neck, I bend enough to whisper against her ear, “Did you miss my mouth, Celeste?”

“Yes,” she pants.

I smile against her skin. “Spread your legs.”

She obeys, disappointment in her voice when I step back… right up until the rasp of my belt fills the air.

I rip it free in one pull, unbutton, unzip, and free my already thick and throbbing cock.

The sight of her bent over, skirt bunched around her waist, legs spread just for me, makes it difficult to hold onto the last thread of patience I have.

I wrap my hand around myself, stroking once, twice, and keep my eyes locked on the wet, glistening proof of just how ready she is for me.

“Hands stay right where they are,” I tell her.

She nods.

“Words.”

“Yes.”

I step in and press the blunt head of my cock against her. The heat of her is instant, a drag I can feel all the way down my spine.

I push in slow, stretching her inch by inch, savoring the way she tightens around me.

“Fuck, Celeste.” The words come out rough.

When I’m buried to the hilt, I give us both a moment to settle into it. Then I pull back and drive in again, harder this time, my grip tightening on her hips.

She cries out, and it drives me to do it again and again.

My rhythm builds fast, but I keep her right where I want her with my hands holding her steady as I fuck her deep enough to pull gasps from her throat with every thrust .

“God, you feel good,” I grit out.

Her head drops forward with the sound of my name dripping from her tongue.

I can see her fingers digging into the wood, feel the way her body starts to shiver around me.

“Don’t you come until I tell you.”

“Julian, please.”

“Not yet.”

I reach around, my fingers finding her clit, and rub tight, fast circles. I know she’s close when she pushes her hips back into me.

Sliding one hand from her hip to the back of her neck, I grip just enough to make her spine arch beautifully for me, and the sound that tears from my throat at the sight is nothing short of feral.

“That’s it,” I growl. “Stay right there for me.”

Her back bows, her ass pressing flush against my hips. I keep my fingers working her clit, unrelenting, forcing her to hold on until I decide she’s earned it.

“Do you want to come for me, Celeste?”

“Yes,” she gasps, her voice breaking.

My grip on her neck tightens. “Then come.”

It’s all she needs. She unravels on a scream as her body clamps down on me, pulsing around my cock in tight, desperate waves. I hold her through it, driving into her even as she convulses, claiming every last drop of her pleasure for myself.

The heat and the squeeze of her drag me straight over the edge. My hips slam into hers one final time, burying myself all the way in as I come hard, groaning into the space between us.

We stay there for a moment, both breathing hard.

After a long minute, I ease out of her before I turn her in my hold so she’s facing me.

Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes have that dazed look I could live on.

I brush my thumb along her jaw. “That’s what happens when I leave you for five days and have nothing but a pair of your panties for company.”

She laughs, and I can feel it in my chest like a brand.

“Welcome home,” she whispers, reaching up to kiss me.