Thoroughly Whipped by Tillie Cole

Author:Tillie Cole [Cole, Tillie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2020-06-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Harry’s foot pressed on the gas, and we zipped like lightning through the New York streets. We entered the Upper East Side, and I kept my face straight forward when we passed NOX. The fantasy of NOX and Maître had no place in my heart tonight. It was Harry that filled every inch. NOX was a mirage. Harry was real.

We were only two blocks from NOX when he turned right and we entered an underground parking lot. Harry pulled into the spot reserved for the penthouse. As the car ground to a halt and the engine cut out, we both gathered our breaths. Harry left the car and came around to my side. He held out his hand. I put mine in his, the butterflies in my stomach swooping in hordes, breaking free from their confines and flooding the rest of my body.

Hand in hand, Harry took me to the private elevator to the penthouse. We stepped inside, the doors shut, and the elevator began to rise. Second after strained second passed by, the air in the small space growing hotter and hotter until I thought I would lose my ability to breathe in the stifling heat.

Harry stood beside me, as still and as stoic as a marble statue. This close I could smell the addictive scent of his cologne—the mint, the sandalwood, and the musk. It was driving me insane. I clenched my thighs together, trying to stop the pressure from building as high as the penthouse floor we chased. In my peripheral vision, I saw Harry’s chest rise and fall at a heady speed. His hand in mine twitched, his jaw clenched, and when I saw the hardness in his pants, I moaned aloud.

That was all it took. That one rebel sigh from my throat caused Harry to snap. He came barreling toward me, pushing me back against the elevator wall, and he crashed his mouth into mine. In mere seconds, he was everywhere. His scent, his taste, and the press of his hard, warm body smothered my every inch. Gone was the prim and proper Harry Sinclair, and in his place was a man wild and intent on bringing me to my knees. His lips moved against mine, his tongue slipping into my mouth, as his hands searched my body, as they roved over every curve, causing me to moan and roll my head back at the feel of finally being under his ministrations.

The ding of the elevator sounded, but Harry didn’t stop kissing me. Instead, he picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. My eyes were closed as he guided us through the apartment. I didn’t even see what it looked like; I was too busy undoing the buttons of his shirt. One by one, they opened and my hands brushed against his hard-muscled chest. Harry rolled up the skirt of my dress higher and higher until his hands landed on my lace panties.

“Fuck, Faith,” he moaned against my lips, and I groaned at hearing a cuss word pour from Harry’s mouth.

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