Page 12 of My CEO Neighbor (Neighborhood Hotties #5)

M onica

The elevator jerked to another stop, and Monica barely registered the mechanical groan because Ted's mouth was moving against hers like he was trying to memorize the taste of her.

His hands framed her face with a reverence that made her heart race, thumbs tracing the line of her jaw while he kissed her.

When his tongue swept across her lower lip, requesting entry, she opened for him without hesitation.

The kiss deepened, stole her breath and reason in equal measure. She needed more contact, more heat, more of whatever this was that made her feel like she was coming alive for the first time in years.

His hands slid from her face to her neck, fingers tangling in her hair as he kissed her harder.

Monica arched into him, and the movement made her acutely aware of how their bodies were aligned—her breasts pressed against him, her thighs bracketing his, the evidence of his arousal hard against her hip.

"Ted," Monica breathed, pulling back just enough to speak.

"What?" His voice was strained with want.

"We should—" Monica started, then lost her train of thought when Ted's mouth found the sensitive spot just below her ear. "We should probably—oh wow."

"Should probably what?" Ted's lips moved against her throat, pressing kisses that made her eyes close in desire. "Should probably stop?"

Monica tried to remember what she'd been about to say, some responsible adult concern about taking things slow or thinking this through. But Ted's teeth grazed her collarbone, and all rational thought evaporated.

"No," Monica said. "Please don't stop."

Ted lifted his head to look at her, and even in the darkness, Monica could feel the intensity of his gaze. "Are you sure? Because once I start touching you properly, I'm not going to want to stop."

The promise in his voice made her shiver. "Then don't stop. Touch me everywhere."

Ted's response was to kiss her again, deeper this time, his hands roaming her body with a boldness that made her skin sing. When his palm cupped her breast through her yoga top, Monica arched into the touch with a soft moan that echoed in the small space.

"Fuck, the sounds you make," Ted groaned against her mouth. "I want to hear every single one."

The elevator emergency lighting flickered back on, casting them in that familiar yellow glow, but neither of them pulled away. If anything, being able to see Ted's face—his pupils dilated with want, his lips swollen from kissing—only intensified her desire.

"You’re so sexy," Ted said. "I've been wanting to touch you for months."

She'd never been the type to inspire poetry or grand gestures, had always been more comfortable giving compliments than receiving them. But the way Ted was looking at her made her feel beautiful in a way that went deeper than physical appearance.

"So are you," she said, and watched surprise flicker across his features. "Especially when you look at me like you want to devour me."

His laugh was breathless and dark. "I do want to devour you. Every inch of you."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Monica pulled Ted's mouth back to hers, and this time there was no hesitation, no careful exploration. This was heat and want and the kind of chemistry that made people forget every rule they'd ever made for themselves.

His hands found the hem of her yoga top, his fingers skimming the skin of her waist. "I need to see you," he said against her lips. "I need to touch you properly."

Her answer was to sit back and pull the fabric over her head, leaving her in just her sports bra and leggings.

"Look at you." His hands traced reverently over her exposed skin—the curve of her ribs, the dip of her waist, the smooth expanse of her stomach. "You're perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect."

The reverent curse made her shiver with want. "Your turn," she said, her fingers already working at the buttons of his shirt. "I want to feel your skin against mine."

Ted helped her, shrugging out of the expensive fabric to reveal a chest that was leaner than she had expected but beautifully defined. She traced her fingers over the planes of muscle, feeling him shiver under her touch.

"I should probably mention," Ted said, his voice strained, "that it's been a while since I—"

Monica silenced him with a kiss, pouring all her understanding and acceptance into the contact. "I don't care about anything except right now," she whispered against his lips. "I just need you to touch me before I lose my mind."

"Where do you need me to touch you?" His voice was dark with promise as his hands skimmed her ribs. "Tell me what you want."

"Everywhere," she gasped as his thumbs traced just under the edge of her sports bra. "Please, I'm aching for you."

The sports bra came off next, and his eyes went feral as he took in her bare breasts. "So beautiful," he murmured, his hands cupping her gently. "I want to taste every inch of you."

Then his mouth was everywhere—her throat, her collarbone, the sensitive swell of her breast. Pleasure spiraled over her body.

She moaned, and the reverence in his touch made her wet and needy.

This wasn't just physical attraction anymore, wasn't just the heat of the moment or the strange intimacy of their circumstances. This was connection, real and deep and terrifying in its intensity. she fell into desire and bliss.

When his mouth closed around her nipple, her back arched and she couldn't suppress the cry that escaped her lips. "Oh yes. Just like that."

His answering groan vibrated against her skin, and she felt him grow harder against her hip. "I love the way you respond to me," he murmured against her breast. "So sensitive. So perfect."

His mouth moved to her other breast while his hand squeezed and teased the wet nipple he'd abandoned. Her hips rocked involuntarily, seeking friction, seeking more.

"Need more," she gasped, her hands fumbling for his belt. "I need to touch you."

The confined space of the elevator should have been awkward, should have made everything clumsy and cramped. Instead, it felt perfect—intimate and private, like they'd created their own world where nothing existed except the two of them and the heat building between their bodies.

When her hands found his belt, she felt him go very still as she worked it open. She slipped her hand inside his boxers and wrapped her fingers around him. He made a sound that was part groan, part prayer.

"Fuck," he breathed, his hips bucking into her touch. "That feels so good."

"You're so hard," she whispered, stroking him slowly. "Is this all for me?"

"All for you," Ted managed, his voice strained with pleasure and control. "Been hard for you since the moment we got trapped in here."

She kissed him again while her hand moved in slow, deliberate strokes. His hips rocked into her touch, and the knowledge that she could affect him this way, could make him lose control, sent a thrill of power through her body.

When his hand slipped beneath the waistband of her leggings, Monica's breath caught. His fingers found her wet and ready, and the first touch made her cry out against his mouth.

"I love that you're soaked," he groaned, his thumb circling her clit in a way that made stars explode behind her eyelids. "So wet for me. I can feel how much you want this."

"I do want this,” she gasped. "I want you so much it's driving me crazy."

"Tell me what you need," he commanded, his fingers teasing but not giving her enough pressure. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you."

"I want your fingers inside me," she breathed, past caring about propriety. "I want you to make me come on your hand before you fuck me."

"Such a dirty mouth on my beautiful yoga instructor," he said, his voice dark with approval. "I love it."

When Ted slipped two fingers inside her, finding a rhythm that made her hips rock desperately against his hand, Monica buried her face in his neck and held on.

"That's it, baby," he murmured in her ear. "Ride my fingers. Show me how much you need this."

She was lost in sensation, her body building toward orgasm. His thumb worked her clit while his fingers curled inside her, hitting that perfect spot that made her see stars.

"I'm close," she gasped. "I'm so close."

"Come for me," he commanded. "I want to feel you fall apart in my arms."

The orgasm hit her like lightning, making her body convulse against him as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She bit down on his shoulder to muffle her cries, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she rode out the intensity.

"Beautiful," he breathed, working her through the aftershocks. "So fucking beautiful when you come."

But instead of satisfaction, her need intensified. The orgasm had only made her want more, made her desperate for all of him.

"I want you inside me," she said against his neck, her voice still shaky from her climax. "I need to feel you. All of you."

"Are you sure?" he asked, though his body was clearly ready. "We don't have—"

"I'm on the pill," Monica interrupted, pulling back to meet his eyes. "And I'm sure. I've never been more sure of anything."

They helped each other out of the remaining barriers of clothing, movements urgent but careful, neither wanting to break the spell that had settled around them. When Ted pulled Monica onto his lap, skin to skin, both of them gasped at the sensation.

"You feel incredible," he groaned, his hands spanning her waist. "I want to be inside you so badly I can barely think straight."

Monica positioned herself over him, taking just the head of his cock inside her. They both moaned at the sensation—she was incredibly tight, and he was thick enough to stretch her perfectly.

"More," Ted demanded, his hands gripping her hips. "Take more of me."

Monica sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch until he was buried completely inside her. The fullness was overwhelming, perfect, exactly what she'd been craving.