The truth was I felt alive with Cohen. He made the baggage of my past feel lighter, helped me to just live in the moment. It was refreshing. Maybe it was because it didn’t seem like there could be any sort of future for us—me with my loose morals and him with his…perfection—that made it so easy for me to spend time around him.
I couldn’t help but smile at the curve of his mouth, and the playful grin that urged me on. I thought about the smooth, tanned skin of his shoulders and back, where I longed to dig my nails in and hold on to for dear life. Because I was convinced that was what being with Cohen would be like—a life-altering experience in which I’d need to grasp onto tight and not let go. He wasn’t the kind of guy you let get away. That thought popped into my mind, unbidden and unwelcome. But once it was there, I couldn’t push it away.
He leaned in slowly and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “What do you want from me? Tell me.”
The hallway was empty and dimly lit with bare florescent bulbs every several feet, and even though it wasn’t at all private, I wanted him. I gripped his sides, and lifted up to meet his lips again. The height of my heels made it easier to kiss him. “This. Please.” I didn’t even know what I was asking for. All I knew was that I was slightly drunk, and a mix of emotions ranging from sad to horny were racing through my system.
Cohen lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me thoroughly, his tongue pushing past my lips to coax and flirt with mine. All of my senses buzzed with his presence. Cohen alone was intoxicating, forget the alcohol. How in the world had I ever thought that Stu was enough?
He gripped my ass and hauled me closer, pressing me up against the firm length of him, rubbing both hands up and down my behind. I could tell he was already hard, and my body responded. I let out a soft whimper when I felt his thick ridge press against my hip.
He cupped the back of my knee and lifted my thigh, securing it around his hip, and nudged into me. He, above all other men, knew how to make me wet in an instant. Or was it just because of the anticipation of being with him, and the fact we hadn’t been intimate yet? I wasn’t completely sure, but I knew that it didn’t really matter. Before I realized what was happening, Cohen had picked me up and was carrying me down the hall, my high-heel-clad feet bouncing against his backside. He reached a door, unlocked it and brought me inside of what looked to be an office. He locked the door behind us, then set me on my feet and returned to kissing me, pressing my back up against the door, his hands roughly exploring my body.
He tugged the neck of my tank top and the cups of my bra down, freeing my br**sts, and bent down to taste them. His mouth and hands were everywhere and I leaned my head back against the door, closing my eyes. All my senses were heighted as I lost myself in his touch, the masculine scent of his skin, the rough stubble on his jaw and his eager kisses.
I opened my eyes to watch him, needing to know that it was really him here with me. My chest rose and fell quickly with each nip and kiss he laid across my br**sts. I threaded my fingers through his hair and tugged, holding him closer. “Cohen,” I moaned.
His fingers fumbled with the button on my jeans, and once it and my zipper were undone, his hand slid along my belly, inside my panties and his warm fingers were inside me, stroking me from the inside out. I was soaking wet, and my body provided no resistance, sucking him in greedily. I cried out when he added a second finger and started pumping harder.
I grabbed his shoulders for support when I felt my legs shaking, and Cohen slowed his pace, lazily f**king me with his fingers, sliding them in inch by delicious inch and then retreating.
I fumbled with his belt buckle and tugged at his jeans. His free hand helped me and together, we yanked down his jeans. Reluctantly pulling his fingers out of my panties, I dropped to my knees in front of him and looked up, my cheek nuzzling into his boxer briefs. He stroked the strands of my hair back from my face and looked down into my eyes.
I slowly pulled his boxers down until his beautiful c**k sprang free. I nipped and licked from his balls up to the tip while he buried his hand in my hair. “Oh, f**k, Eliza,” he moaned, begging for more contact. “Come here, baby.” He gripped the shaft in his hand and fed it into my mouth, pushing his hips forward with gentle pressure to drive it into my mouth. I clutched his length in both hands, and impatiently pulled him even deeper, swirling my tongue over the head as I sucked. His c**k jerked in my mouth and he let out a stream of obscenities.
My panties were soaking wet and my pu**y begged to be filled, but still, I continued enthusiastically sucking him. It had never turned me on so much to do this, but Cohen’s genuine response was hot. He continued rocking his hips forward, pushing himself farther each time into my mouth until soon his c**k was hitting the back of my throat. I gagged once accidentally and he quickly pulled out. “I’m sorry.” His eyes held mine with a look of confusion and concern. “I didn’t mean to choke you, you’re just so f**king good at this, it’s hard to hold back with you.” He stroked my cheek in apology.
I smiled up at him with swollen, damp lips. “It’s okay.” I liked that I affected him so much and got him to lose almost all control. I was pretty sure I affected him in ways other girls never had and I liked that, too.
His thumb stroked my bottom lip and I sought out his c**k again, licking and suckling the head.
His earpiece crackled with static and he pressed it to his ear, listening to a conversation I couldn’t make out.
“Fuck,” he groaned, with frustration rather than pleasure. He hauled me to my feet then tucked himself back inside his pants. “I’ve got to go, babe. There’s a fight outside.”