Lust. || BEYNIKA

L|Chapter TWENTY-three.

Beyoncé BK Knowles.

BEYONCÉ'S mouth settles on mine before I can utter a single word, and I'm completely lost. In the taste of her, the scent of her, the way she moves into me as if it's her every right to be there. Touching me, holding me, drawing me close, her arms circling my waist.

This is what I really want. Working with her will be a great boost to my career; the Knowles Corporation a stellar client to put into my portfolio and an opportunity that I would be a fool to pass up.

But this is what I not-so-secretly crave. Being in Beyoncé's arms again, her persuasive lips caressing mine, gently encouraging me to open to her. I do so easily, letting the soft sigh escape when her tongue touches mine. After all my arguments and protests, I still can't believe I confessed to her what I really wanted.

A chance to be with her, to lose myself with her. Freely.

She's the only one who's able to coax an orgasm out of me. Previous lovers have tried numerous times before with a variety of methods. And when it wouldn't work, when I didn't work, they made me feel like a freak. A few had even declared me frigid. Unresponsive. Unfeeling.

Jerks. They'd tried to tear down my self-esteem and for a while, I let them. Until I realized I didn't need any of them to give me an orgasm. I was fully in charge of that task. Quite happily, I might add.

Until Beyoncé. And then bam. Instant orgasm. I'd like to experience that again.

And again and again and again.

"I've missed you," she whispers against my lips, her husky voice sending a scattering of gooseflesh across my skin. "So damn much, Onika."

I'm about to tell her I missed him too, but she's kissing me again, more forcefully this time. Her tongue strokes mine, her hands clutch at my waist, and I step into her, run my hands up her chest, my fingers molding to the wall of hot, firm shoulders beneath my palms. She shivers from my touch, and I realize she enjoys my touch as much as I enjoy hers.

Such a powerful, overwhelming discovery.

As our hands move, our lips search, the kiss becoming deep. Hot. I slide my tongue into her mouth and I rest my hands at her sides, my fingers slipping beneath her sweater so I can touch the smooth, bare skin of her back. She grips my waist, guiding me backward, until I'm bumping against the wall and she's got me trapped. Deliciously, wonderfully trapped.

She toys with the tie at the waist of my dress, her fingers playing with the ends, and then she's tugging. Pulling the tie undone until my dress loosens and she's pushing either side of it wide, exposing me to her perusal.

Breaking the kiss, she studies me, her smoldering gaze raking over my body, making me aware of how on display I am for her. I thrust my chest out and let her look her fill. Remind him of what she's missed out on for the last month.

Me.

"You're killing me." She slips her fingers beneath the strap of my black bra, moving to trace the scalloped lacy edge across one breast, then the other. "So fucking beautiful."

Pleasure swarms me, making me dizzy, and I lock my knees for fear I'll collapse. I almost cry out when she leans in, one hand braced on the wall beside my head, her mouth at my throat, then my collarbone. Dropping sweet little kisses on my chest, the tops of my breasts, sampling me. I grip her hips, holding on to her for dear life as she licks and kisses my skin.