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That time I really laughed. How did he do it? Make me feel better and comfortable while signing the next three years of my life away. I shook my head. “I’m not miserable. I just…I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

He moved closer, his hips pressing against my stomach and the edge of the desk dug a little into the small of my back.

“This,” he ran his thumb along my lower lip and my mouth parted, “is real.”

Somehow that small sentiment ricocheted a plethora of fireworks though my bloodstream. His mouth came down on mine. He didn’t move his thumb. Instead he pressed the pad inside my mouth and pushed down, opening my mouth wider. He delved his tongue inside and possessed everything I was in one long stroke.

I groaned and kissed him back. My mind was a ball of buzzing confusion, tension and excitement. I needed something, but I couldn’t explain what. I just felt empty. And Preston was right there to hold me.

Just like a few nights ago, with a simple encounter, flash of a smile, and blunt words, he stoked the fire that was burning in me. A fire that I thought had been completely extinguished. All the tension from the last several hours, days, months, washed away. He didn’t allow me to think about a thing. Feel a thing. All I could concentrate on was him. Surrounding me. Drinking me down.

His hands landed heavy on my ass. “You have,” he trailed his lips down my neck, “the most amazing body.”

He knelt before me and buried his face between my br**sts, biting at the buttons of my shirt. His hands stayed firmly planted on my backside silently refusing to let go.

“Get this off,” he growled. I instantly worked open my shirt and shrugged it off.

“Now this.” He nipped at the lacy cup of my bra and I jumped because he snagged my nipple with it. The bite shot a zing of sensation to every limb. I reached around and unclasped the back and the scrap of fabric dropped to the floor.

He took one nipple into his mouth and sucked while his fingers dug into my ass cheeks. Yanking me closer to him. I moaned and arched my back.

“Fuck, you are a prize, Megan.”

He kissed and nipped around my entire breast as if worshiping me. Like he had to touch every inch of my skin. I knew why I had fallen for this man once. Knew why I was falling again. Because he wasn’t a man. He was a force. And I couldn’t pull away. I didn’t want to.

I fumbled around with his shirt and finally got it undone and off. His shoulders were hard and his skin the prettiest light mocha color. Flawless and smooth like freshly cooled taffy. Dark chocolate hair completed the edible essence of Preston Strauss.

My fingers wove into his thick hair and I kissed the top of his head. He trailed his lips lower, licking and kissing my ribs, down to my bellybutton and across my hip bone. I stood there dazed while a powerful, successful, incredibly sexy man was on his knees exploring me with his mouth.

I barely noticed him take my skirt down my legs.

“You know what two things I’ve been thinking of all day?”

I shook my head. “What?”

“If you were wearing those stockings again.” His palms slid up my bare legs. “I liked them. But I love seeing all of you.”

I had nothing to hide and even if I did, he’d find out. There was a liberation in the truth. A freedom in finally having someone else know everything.

Maybe he was right, maybe this was how smart adults mapped out what they wanted in a relationship. Because nothing in that moment felt clinical.

His hands trailed higher and my breath caught. “W-what was the other thing you’ve been thinking about?”

He smiled up at me. “What color panties you were wearing of course.”

Passion radiated between us like a furnace and I gave myself up to it. He pulled down my panties, gently urging my legs apart as he went so that the elastic stretched taut against my thighs.

“Gorgeous. You know blue is my favorite color,” he breathed and peeled them the rest of the way off. His breath hit my aching core. I was hot, shaky and so ready for him.

Reaching around, he palmed my ass and, as he rose to his feet, lifted me with him. Startled, but not surprised by his strength, I slapped my hands on his shoulders for balance and wound my legs around his hips.

He set me down on the desk with a thump, my bare ass atop the papers I had just signed. He kissed me hard and yanked his belt and pants open. I drove my tongue into his mouth, tasting all his masculine sweetness. All the power and intensity. His hard c**k prodded at my entrance and I squirmed to get it into position. His arms were like a vice around me and he gripped the back of knees and pulled me into him.

His c**k jammed into me and I cried out in pleasure.

“God, I’ve been wanting this, wanting you, all damn day.” He withdrew and returned with an even harder thrust, bouncing my br**sts and rustling the papers beneath me.

I placed my hands behind me for balance, causing my back to arch. He latched onto one aching nipple and sucked hard.

“Yes! Oh, Preston, more.”

I had started the day in a very different mindset and was now in over my head for Preston. He f**ked me impossibly hard. His hips banged against my inner thighs—that was going to leave a bruise—and the thought made my core clench.

“I feel you squeezing me,” he growled. He gripped my lower back and yanked me into him.

“So deep…” I sobbed.

He hit a spot inside that sent a snap of bone-cracking pleasure surging through my entire body. Scoring my nails down his back, I held on and cried out for more.

My ass slipped along the papers, which were now scrunched and scattered across the desk. With every touch, every taste, every sound, I felt the connection between us. This was more than sex, this was a message. A promise.

He was taking me over. Branding me from the inside out. Every breath I took in his presence, every move in his direction, it was all woven together. Designed to make me lose control and surrender to him.

He had a contract that guaranteed no strings, but there he was, pulling mine.

And I let him.

Wanted him to.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he breathed against my mouth. He wrapped an arm around my back and cupped my neck with the other. “I want to feel you come for me.”

My skin was burning and my lungs overheating. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The pleasure was too much. It tingled in my toes until it felt as though my legs were on fire. He effortlessly hit that sensitive spot inside over and over, arching his hips just right at the end to rub his pelvis along my throbbing clit.

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