Page 13 of My CEO Neighbor (Neighborhood Hotties #5)

"God, you're tight," Ted groaned, his forehead pressed against hers. "So tight and wet and perfect. Like you were made for my cock."

They found a rhythm that was slow and deep, built for pleasure rather than speed. Monica had never experienced anything like it. This was sex that felt like conversation, like they were learning each other's language through touch and breath and the quiet sounds they made together.

"You feel so good inside me," Monica whispered, her hips rolling against his. "So deep. I can feel you everywhere."

Ted's hands roamed her body, memorizing the curve of her spine, the flare of her hips, the places that made her gasp and arch against him. Monica stroked his shoulders, his chest, the corded muscles of his neck as he threw his head back in pleasure.

"I want to feel you come around my cock. I want to feel you squeeze me when you fall apart."

"Touch me," she begged, her movements becoming more desperate. "Make me come again."

When his thumb found her clit, the added sensation combined with the thick slide of his cock inside her pushed her toward another climax. This one built slower but felt more intense, like it was coming from deeper inside her.

"That's it," he encouraged, watching her face as she climbed toward release. "Come for me, beautiful. Let me see you lose control."

Her second orgasm crashed over her with devastating intensity, her body clenching around his cock as she cried out his name. The sensation of her coming around him pushed Ted over the edge, and he buried his face in her neck as he shuddered his release inside her.

They held each other through the aftershocks, skin damp with sweat, breathing hard against each other's throats. The silence that followed was different from any they'd shared—not awkward or charged, but peaceful. Satisfied.

Monica felt boneless, thoroughly claimed, and completely content to stay exactly where she was. She could feel Ted softening inside her, could feel their combined release slicking her thighs, and instead of being embarrassed, she felt marked. Owned. His.

"That was..." Monica started, then trailed off, unable to find words.

"Incredible," Ted finished, his hands stroking up and down her back. "You're incredible."

Monica lifted her head to look at Ted's face. He looked younger, the lines of stress and exhaustion softened by pleasure and release.

"No regrets?" Monica asked, suddenly needing the reassurance.

"None," Ted said immediately, his hands cupping her face. "Best thing that's happened to me in years. You?"

"None," Monica echoed, and felt the truth of it. "Though I should probably move soon. My legs are going to cramp."

"Don't you dare move yet. I'm not ready to stop touching you."

They stayed like that for a while longer, skin to skin in the yellow light, neither ready to break the intimacy of the moment.

"I need to tell you something."

"What?"

"I've been watching you. Not in a creepy way," Ted added quickly. "But your morning routine, the way you water your plants on the fire escape, the way you always pause to check the sunrise before you leave for work. I started timing my coffee so I could see you through my kitchen window."

Giddy happiness bloomed all over her. "Really?"

"Really. You looked so peaceful, so content with yourself and your life. I couldn't figure out how someone could be that centered." His hands traced down her spine possessively. "Now I know you're just as wild as you are peaceful."

Monica propped herself up on her elbows, studying Ted's face. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

"I started making extra tea in the mornings. Way more than I could drink. I told myself it was for when friends came over, but really I was hoping you'd knock on my door and complain about the noise, just so I'd have an excuse to talk to you."

Ted's eyebrows rose. "You wanted me to complain?"

"I wanted to see if the man behind all that intensity was as interesting as he seemed." Monica's smile was wicked. "Turns out he's even better in bed than I imagined."

Ted's grin was pure masculine satisfaction. "Just wait until I get you somewhere with a proper bed. I'm going to make you come so many times you forget your own name."

The promise sent heat racing through Monica's body all over again. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Both."

Monica laughed, feeling lighter than she had in months. Whatever this was between them—attraction, connection, the beginning of something real—it felt worth exploring. Worth the risk.

"Ted," Monica said, growing serious.

"What?"

"What happens now? When we get out of here?"

"I don't know," he said. "But I know I don't want this to be a one-time thing. I know I want to take you to dinner somewhere that serves actual food instead of protein bars. I know I want to hear about your day and tell you about mine and maybe learn how to make that tea you're always drinking."

"It's just green tea with honey."

"I want to learn how to make green tea with honey. I want to learn everything about you."

Monica felt tears prick her eyes, overwhelmed by the simple sincerity of Ted's words. "That sounds perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Ted kissed her softly, a promise rather than passion.

When they broke apart, Monica rested her forehead against his and tried to memorize the moment—the feeling of being completely known and completely satisfied, the taste of possibility on her lips, the weight of Ted's hands on her skin like he never wanted to let her go.