My mind went blank for a moment, forgetting the simplest of answers. Oh God, that voice is pure sex, I thought wildly, lifting my hands to brace against the hard surface before me. It was low and had a lilt I couldn’t place, and my chest grew tight with need. “Lucy,” I finally managed, my brain short circuiting.

“Lucy,” he repeated, and I drew in a shaky breath hearing my name said in that too-sexy voice. “I need to see if you taste as good as you smell.”

There was no request for permission in his voice only an implacable demand, and I rolled my head sideways to allow him access. His lips slid across the soft skin behind my ear, tongue flicking out to touch me; his teeth nipped the lobe and I moaned, pressing back against him. He rotated his hips and my breathing sped up, needy pants a staccato in the silence.

“God you're so fucking hot.” His hand trailed down the side of my body, across my hip and down my thigh until he found the hem of my skirt. His hand then retraced its steps back up, skimming lightly across the smooth skin of my inner thigh, pulling the material of my skirt up toward my hips. Unthinking, I spread my legs to give him access and gasped loudly as fingers slid along the outside of my soaked panties, pressing against my aching core.

Was this really happening? My body bucked, trapped between the metal doors and the hot body behind me. It was like every fantasy I’d ever had was being played out in person, and I was helpless to stop my conditioned response.

His fingers pulsed, sliding across my clit with increasing frequency, and my hips moved of their own volition, craving more of his touch. I cried out when his teeth sank into my shoulder, then his fingers slid beneath the thin cotton and lace and stroked my wet skin, pulling at my tender opening in a way that had me moaning loudly inside the elevator.