AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I nod and reach out, my hand moving of its own accord up to her face. Then I brush my fingertips softly against her cheek. Her skin is cool and smooth, a stark contrast to the calloused roughness of my hands.
"Julia," I breathe out as a storm rages in my mind. I’m torn between the man who values his solitude and the one who craves to break down his walls for this woman.
"Ryan," she responds, a hint of a tremble in her tone, and her eyes flutter closed.
She and I have done this dance of passion once before, but tonight is so much more. It's a moment of vulnerability, of trust, and I feel the weight of it in my soul.
"Ryan," she says again, and that simple utterance of my name from her lips is both a question and an answer.
"Jules," I respond, my voice hoarse with emotion, "I—" Words fail me.
Her eyes, bright and earnest, search mine. There's a fierceness in them, a determination. This is a woman who knows what she wants, who chases down her goals with tenacity. But right now, she's not chasing success or dollar signs; she's chasing something far more elusive—connection, perhaps, or maybe even love.
In one fluid motion, I lift her up onto the table and spread her legs with my own to step between them as the skirt to her dress hikes up to her thighs.
Her arms tighten around my waist, pulling me closer. There's an urgency in her grip, a silent plea for more. I groan softly, feeling the heat of her body against mine.
"Jules," I say, my voice hoarse with desire, "you're playing with fire."
"Then let's burn together," she replies, her eyes sparkling with a blend of mischief and passion. I can't help but chuckle at her boldness.
I stand tall right in front of her, watching, admiring. The tension coils within me, tight and urgent.
"Beautiful," I whisper, not sure if I'm talking about her or the moment itself.
She smiles, her eyes a challenge, her body a promise. "I need you, Ryan."
My hands find her waist, pulling her flush against me as our lips crash together. Her taste is intoxicating.
Her fingers run through my hair, and she gently tugs at it, sending sparks down my spine. I deepen the kiss, exploring the warmth of her mouth. She arches into me, pressing impossibly closer with our clothes still on.
"More," she gasps, nails digging into my shoulders, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
"Yes ma’am," I growl, feeling the last of my restraint slip away.
Chapter 14
Julia
Ryan's lips leave mine, and the world spins for a second from the loss of his kiss. His eyes lock onto mine. "You're so fucking hot," he growls, and the sound rumbles from deep within his chest, vibrating against my flushed skin.
"Ryan..." I breathe out his name. It's a plea, a praise, an admission of how much I want him.
He doesn't waste a moment. His hands are bold and determined as one slips beneath the lace barrier of my panties. "Spread your legs for me, baby." His voice is a whisper, but it might as well be a shout in the quiet space between us.
I comply without hesitation, parting my thighs with a soft moan, each nerve ending alight with anticipation. My heart hammers wildly against my ribcage. I'm ready for whatever comes next, ready for Ryan.
Ryan descends, his breath a warm whisper over the apex of my thighs, and I tremble, arching toward the promise in his gaze. He's all hunger and heat as he drinks me in like a wild, untamed thing wrapped in the skin of a man. His fingers dance, feather-light, teasing circles that make my heart stumble in its fierce rhythm.
"God, Jules," he murmurs, voice thick with want. His touch grows bolder, slipping past the delicate fabric that's the last barrier between us. I feel the stretch, the slide, the exquisite pressure as he explores, as he claims.
My body responds like it's been waiting for just this. My head tosses from side to side on the table. Each gasp is shorter, quicker, my eyes squeeze shut as I chase the sensation cresting within me.
And then, Ryan's thumb finds that bundle of nerves that commands my undoing. Pressure builds, pleasure spirals, and I'm lost to it. Lost to him.
"Ryan!" The name is a prayer and a curse on my lips, a stark contrast to the silence that hangs heavy around us—broken only by our ragged breaths. His thumb works magic, circles of ecstasy that steal my sanity.
"More," I plead, the workaholic, the woman who always needs control, now begging. Begging for release, for more of this raw connection that has nothing to do with business deals or bottom lines.
