The Darkest Sunrise

Never separating our mouths, I planted a knee between her legs on the couch and she shimmied down so the heat of her core pressed against my thigh.

“Fuck,” I groaned into her mouth as she circled her hips.

“Please, Porter,” she said in a husky voice.

I felt every single consonant and vowel of her plea deep inside my soul. She didn’t need to beg. Not now. Not ever. If she wanted anything, I was going to give it to her.

While balancing on a hand on the armrest next to her head, I snaked my other behind her to unhook her bra. Her mouth went to my neck, and her hands never stopped roaming my chest and my back even as she sat up an inch to allow me more space. After fumbling through three tries on the goddamn Fort Knox of bras, I gave up. With hurried movements, I wedged my hand under her hips and jerked her into the sitting position. Then my hands went to the hem of her wet shirt and stripped it over her head. Her bra followed in the same fashion.

I cursed, blindly patting her body down in search of the button on her jeans. It took me approximately ten seconds—and ten seconds too long—to get those off. Her panties hit the floor right behind them.

And then it was my turn.

After catching my shirt at the back of my neck, I tugged it over my head while she went to work with frenzied fingers on my pants. I stood as she struggled to shove them down my thighs, a loud groan rumbling in my chest as her hands purposefully brushed over my shaft.

“Fuck, baby,” I mumbled, rolling her nipple in my fingers as I toed my shoes off and stepped out of my jeans. “Lean back.”

With my hand still at her breast, I felt her obey.

I bent, following her forward, and skimmed a finger up her core. Fuck me. She was primed.

“Porter,” she breathed, spreading her legs wide, her gentle hands going to my abs as she teetered on the edge of the cushion. That tiny-ass couch wasn’t going to work for all the things I wanted to do to her.

Vowing to redecorate my office with a fucking full-size pullout sofa the very next day, I caught her around the waist and lifted her off the loveseat.

She squeaked as I turned and mentally reviewed the horizontal surfaces in my office.

“Fuck,” I growled.

“Baby,” she purred, circling her arms around my neck as her feet dangled off the hardwood.

“I got a floor and a desk, Charlotte,” I announced.

I felt the smile on her lips as she kissed me, long and wet.

“What’s it going to be?” I clipped, putting her back on her feet without releasing her.

My hard cock twitched between us, and she glided a delicate hand down my stomach until she brushed the sensitive crown. “Sit down, Porter.”

“Char—”

“Sit,” she ordered.

I arched an incredulous eyebrow at her demand before realizing she couldn’t see it.

After that…I sat my ass down.

She climbed into my lap, getting into the same position we’d been in when this whole thing had started, only now we were naked and my length was sliding against her slit without ever entering her.

I dropped my head back against the couch as she started a torturous rhythm over me. I gripped her ass, kneading as I urged her down.

After laving her tongue up to my ear, she sucked on my lobe. Then she whispered, “I missed you, too.” Her breath hitched before she added, “So much.”

I sucked in a sharp breath and my arms tensed around her. Wrapping her up tight, I forced her breasts flat against my chest, and then she blessedly tipped her hips, giving me the access I was desperately searching for.

I entered her on a slow thrust.

“Yes,” she hissed, her body stretching around me and hugging my shaft so fucking tight.

Our bodies rolled together as she rode me slow and deep, her fingernails biting into my neck as our moans and groans echoed around the room.

Her teeth nipped. My tongue soothed. Her hands explored every hard curve of my torso, while my hands memorized her soft breasts and her clit.

“Porter,” she moaned into my mouth. And then against my neck. And then it became strangled as her muscles clutched my cock as I thrust up hard and rough, forcing her over the edge.

As she pulsed her release around me, her head thrown back, her hair brushing the top of my hand splayed across her back, I could honestly say that it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen—and I couldn’t even see it.

The never-ending roaring in my ears suddenly went silent as she sagged against me, surrendering her sated body to me and igniting me in ways I had never known possible.

She clung to my neck as I drove into her, harder every time.

“Charlotte,” I rasped, burying my face in her neck as my release leveled me.

With the exception of our labored breathing and racing hearts, the room fell silent.

I’d promised her a pretty specific kiss. And, by the time we were done, I knew for a fact her lips were swollen and bruised, and I had etched her taste into every cell of my gray matter.

I also knew there wasn’t one fucking thing I wouldn’t do to keep her.

* * *

Languid and naked, I was sitting in his lap as his thick cock began to soften inside me. When I’d driven myself to The Porterhouse, desperate for him to stop the world for me, that wasn’t at all how I’d thought my night would end. Though, with his arms wrapped protectively around me, his large body flush with mine, his warmth engulfing me even as a chill pebbled my skin, I had not one regret.

He kissed the side of my face and gave me a tight squeeze. “I didn’t use a condom.”

I tucked my arms between us and wiggled in closer. “I’m on birth control.”

“Good,” he breathed before kissing me again.

And then Porter did what Porter did best. He made things so charmingly awkward that I couldn’t help but feel at ease.

“Just so you know, I’ve never had sex on this couch before.” He paused. “And, honestly, I have no idea why I felt the need to tell you that. But it somehow seemed imperative.”

My heart grew at least two sizes in my chest, and not because I was gleeful about the news that I’d been the one to properly christen his couch. But rather because a loud laugh sprang from my throat—the kind that floods you with endorphins to the point of hysterics. And that was exactly what happened as I fell to the side, waves of laughter overtaking me.

And then he joined me.

I’d heard Porter laugh before, but not like that. This one was deep and rich, inherently masculine while still managing to sound boyish and carefree.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” he said, his body folding over on top of me, his hands going to my sides, where he tickled me.

I squealed and flailed against him as he pinned me down, the same fingers that only minutes earlier had been working between my legs with an expert touch now danced over my skin, stirring me into hilarity.

My laugh got louder until tears hit my eyes.

So this was what living felt like.

“I can’t breathe,” I laughed, and his torturous hands finally stopped.

He sat up, and I flipped to my back, draping my legs over his lap. And then those damn multitalented fingers of his went to work, skimming up and down my thighs as we both caught our breath.

“You think anyone heard us having sex?” I asked.

He hummed a sound of approval before adding, “Don’t worry. I’ll fire them all.”

I laughed again, but he didn’t join me.

“Charlotte?” he called.

“Yeah, baby?”

“What’s going to happen when I turn on the lights?”

My stomach sank. “I honestly don’t know.”

He slid his hand up until he found mine and then intertwined our fingers. I couldn’t make his features out, but I felt his head turn and his gaze come to mine.

“It’s still dark outside.”

I gave his hand a squeeze. “Then I guess we better make the most of it.”

He didn’t say another word as he shifted my legs off his lap and pushed to his feet. I watched with rapt attention as his tall silhouette strolled to the door. The faint light from the bottom illuminated him just enough for me to see his hand lift to the switch on the wall.

“It’s still dark outside,” he repeated. “Artificial light doesn’t count.”