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Her tongue, damp and pink, flicked over her lips as her gaze lowered to his thighs, then back to his eyes. “You’re dying to have me, aren’t you, Zeke?” Her voice lowered, became tempting, seductive. “You want me so damned bad you can’t stand it, and you refuse to admit it. ”
“Oh, I freely admit it. ” There was no denying it.
Before he could curb the impulse he took the last steps to her, wrapped one hand around the back of her neck, tilted her chin back with his thumb, and lowered his head.
Spicy, consuming pleasure exploded through his senses as her lips parted for him.
Hunger beat through his veins, surged to his hardened cock, and had him pulling her thighs apart with his free hand to get closer to her.
The taste of her was liquid hot as she arched against him, a surprised breath of sound barely escaping. Keeping her head tilted back, he devoured her lips, her tongue. He slid his hand up her thigh, touched the wet panel of her panties, and groaned at the heat he found there.
“You’re like an addiction. ” He nipped at her lips as he released her neck, only to drag the hem of her camisole up, over the filmy lace of her bra.
“We’ll find you a twelve-step program. ” She arched against him.
“Twelve steps to complete insanity?” he asked as his lips traveled along her jaw. “Fuck, Rogue. How the hell am I supposed to do my job when all I think about is the taste and feel of you?”
“Take breaks to feed the addiction?” Breathy, sensual, her voice had his body tightening further.
“That would be a hell of a lot of breaks. ” It was a hell of a good idea.
Rogue tilted her head back as Zeke’s lips continued their campaign of complete sensory rapture along her jaw to her ear. Shudders of pleasure raced through her body at each lick of his tongue, each nip of his lips.
It was like being consumed by hunger, by the eroticism of the feel of him against her.
The heat, the lightening stroke of rapture. God, she needed more. So much more that she arched closer to him and all but begged for it as the heat continued to build in her pussy, the tension tightening in her clit.
The feel of his calloused palm cupping her breast was enough to steal her breath. The stroke of his thumb over her distended nipple sent pulses of lightning-sharp sensation to attack her womb and her clit.
She was sinking in sensual overload. In the hunger that wrapped around her and sank into her flesh. Nothing mattered but his touch, his kiss. If he thought he was addicted, it was nothing compared to her need for him. She felt as though she were drowning in the pleasure, drowning in the complete abandonment of her body to his.
Sensation jerked along her nerve endings as his fingertips brushed between her thighs, then over the dampness of her panties. Heated and wet, her juices spilled from her shamelessly, preparing her for his possession.
Oh boy, she hoped he possessed her. She was about to explode with need. Tension built inside her, drawing her tight as her knees lifted. Her shoes dropped from her feet as she raked the backs against the desk and propped her bare heels on the edge.
“Damn you,” he growled, his head lifting as she leaned back and flashed him a wicked smile.
His fingers pressed against her pussy, rubbing the silk of her panties against her clit as she lifted her hips to him.
“That’s so good,” she whispered breathlessly.
“It can get better,” he promised.
She shuddered at the thought of it getting any better, then cried out in surprise as his lips lowered to the tops of her breasts.
He licked over the swollen rise of flesh above her bra. His teeth raked the sensitive flesh, and his fingers drew patterns of heated ecstasy on the silk between her thighs.
It was too much. Too much sensation. Too much need.
“Zeke, please. ” Her head fell back on her shoulders as she fought to hold herself up.
Palms planted on the top of the desk, her arms trembled with the effort to stay in place.
“What do you need, baby?” His cheek brushed over a hard nipple. “Tell me what you need. ”
What did she need? She needed so much. She needed to be touched, everywhere. She needed to sink into his skin and never be without him.
“Tell me, Rogue,” he breathed over the hard tip of her nipple. “Tell me what you need. ”
