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Even if the thought of it made him impossibly harder.
“Please,” she whispered, arms trembling around his neck as her tension grew to the critical point.
Serge abandoned her breasts, tilting his head back to claim her lips. She pressed her mouth to his with an immediate passion, her lips, teeth and tongue ravaging him with an intensity that drove him wild. The kiss was an erotic battle, a meeting of two similar forces that left little doubt that they would be amazing in bed together.
“Please, Serge, please…”
“Please what?” he groaned, wishing he could signal the driver to circle the block and prolong this little ride. But they were already late. He couldn’t delay filming any longer.
“I need you.” The vulnerability in her tone was haunting, touching him in places other than his cock.
“It’s not me that you need, sweet.” He kissed her throat, urging her on with his fingers even as he moved his mouth back to her breasts.
“But I do.” Her moan become a soft sob. “Oh god, I do.”
“No, you just need to come. So come for me.” He worked her pussy with both hands, teasing her until she shook in his arms. “Come for me now.”
“Yes, oh yes!” Her back arched, her muscles tightening as she neared the edge.
“Come, Katarina. You are safe with me.”
Her hips pressed into even deeper contact with his hand as she came, head thrown back, pussy clamping down around his fingers with a force that made Serge’s imagination run wild.
; God, how he wanted to feel that tight cunt on his cock, to feel her take her pleasure as he lost himself in her body. He gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw to keep from joining her and coming in his pants like some teenaged kid getting a lap dance at one of his clubs.
“Yes, beautiful,” he mumbled against her breasts, unable to keep himself from kissing one of the nipples that lifted toward his mouth. She felt so good in his arms, her kisses tasted of cinnamon, and her smell was an intoxicating mix of flowers and cooking spice, a combination that for some reason turned him on like nothing else.
“Wow.” She blushed a bright fuchsia that only a redhead could manage. “You’re fuckingly talented with those hands. You know that, right?”
“Fuckingly.” He grinned. “Thank you, but you might want to censor yourself a bit during filming. Not all people appreciate a foul mouth on a woman as much as I do.” He reluctantly pulled away from her, resisting the urge to clean her cream from his fingers with his tongue.
Instead he reached for a napkin from the limo bar.
She smoothed a shaking hand over her hair. “I’ll do my best. I can behave nicely when I want to.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” He caught her eye and an erotic charge leapt between them.
Damn, he had to get this woman off of his lap before he did something even more foolish. She was an employee, after all, and more trouble than one man could handle. It would be insane to encourage her any further. The best thing for the both of them would be to keep their mutual attraction at arm’s length…at least until filming was over.
“I’m sure Matthew will be happy to see ‘fuck’ vanish from your vocabulary.”
“Anything for the boss.” She smiled and eased off his lap, back to her own side of the limo. She adjusted her skirt and blazer until her kiss-swollen lips were the only clue as to how they had been occupying their time.
“I’m not your boss, Katarina.” He spoke the words gently, but firmly. “What we’ve done here has nothing to do with the show. That’s why I had hoped to keep my identity a secret. I didn’t want any of the women to think they had to behave in inappropriate ways to earn my favor.”
She had seemed as swept away by the attraction between them as he was, but he didn’t believe there was such as being “too careful.” He wasn’t the type of man who allowed himself to be led around by his dick, and the sooner she realized that the better.
“I hope you weren’t looking for some sort of quid pro quo,” he finished with a raised brow.
“No, but I wouldn’t mind riding you until you can’t stand.” She met the challenge in his eyes with one of her own.
Damn, everything about this woman made him want to pull her back onto his lap and impale her on his still-raging hard-on.
“I don’t care how many strip clubs you own,” she said with a shrug. “That kind of stuff doesn’t influence me. Though I do think it’s shitty to sell pixie dust to kids.”
“No one under the age of eighteen is allowed into my clubs and pixie dust is legal outside Kingdom City limits,” he said with a shrug of his own. “It’s not my fault that some people can’t draw the line between recreational use and habitual abuse.”
