Page 68 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

“I’ll make it up to you.” He kisses my stomach and buttons my jeans.

Another ring cuts through our disappointment.

He stands, adjusts himself, and grabs his phone from the coffee table. Putting it to his ear, he says, “Jared, Wells, how are you?” all confidence and self-control. He says something about profit margins and sits down as I grab my drawing tablet.

I settle back against the arm of the couch with my feet on the cushion beside him. He tosses me a smile, and his hand circles my ankle, sliding up my leg as they discuss the grand opening of their restaurant. I try to concentrate on the picture I started earlier, but my mind is a whirl of desire, and the way he’s caressing my leg isn’t helping.

“I reviewed the projections…”

He squeezes my leg, drawing my attention. His voice is all business, perfectly composed, but his face tells a different story. His jaw flexes, muscles ticking as his eyes find mine, the heat in them barely contained. It’s the look of a man fighting two instincts at once. Close the deal and conquer me. The faint curve of his mouth is part warning, part promise, and when his tongue drags across his lower lip, my pulse forgets its rhythm.

The little dare in his crooked smile emboldens me. I slide my foot over his leg and drag my toes along his inner thigh, testing him. He doesn’t flinch, his breathing barely changes, and when he speaks to his business partners, it’s with calm precision. Only the subtle flare of his nostrils gives away his mounting heat. He moves his hand up my leg, along my thigh, and squeezes, sending flames licking up my core.

Let’s see just how in control you really are, Mr. Braden.

I slide my foot higher, resting it on his rock-hard cock. His eyes narrow, the fire in them spurring me on. I stroke him with my foot, and his jaw clenches. He grabs my foot, adding pressure as it moves along his erection. I mouth, You want to play?

He presses my foot harder on his rigid cock and mouths, Fuck yeah.

My entire body pulses with desire. I’ve never done anything where people might hear me. Knowing we have to be quiet and he needs to remain in control so Jared and Wells don’t catch on heightens my arousal.

Gathering my courage, I make a split-second decision to pull out all the stops.

I climb off the couch, strip off my sweater and the T-shirt underneath, and toss them on the chair. Seth’s eyes flame. He tracks my movements as I shimmy out of my jeans and tug off my socks, standing in front of him in my sexiest black lace thong and matching bra, which I chose this morning for him. I put my hands on his knees, pushing them apart, and lower myself to my knees between them. He watches as I unbutton his jeans and lifts his ass as I tug them down. But I don’t stop there. I move back and pull them all the way off, leaving his boxer briefs on.

Then I unbutton his shirt and push it open, kissing his chest and running my fingers over his pecs, loving the way they rise with his deeper inhalations. I tease his nipple with my tongue and teeth, the way he does to me, and he buries one hand in my hair, pressing my mouth tighter against his flesh. I suck, and he clears his throat. The guttural sound is accompanied by a rocking of his hips. I kiss my way down his stomach, tracing his abs with my tongue, watching his jaw tighten, his eyes narrowing, restraint riddling his entire body.

When I strip off his boxer briefs, he fists his cock, but I shake my head, pushing his hand away, and mouth, Mine. My eyes remain locked on his as I wrap my fingers around his hard length and swirl my tongue along the broad head.

“Yeah, Jared. The PR team has that covered,” he says, his voice taut.

I lower my mouth over his thick cock, taking him deep, holding his gaze as I stroke and suck. His restraint vibrates around us like a living thing. His shoulders are locked, jaw tight, every muscle wound like he’s holding the entire world together by sheer will. His eyes implore me, begging for what he can’t take. I work him faster, stroking tighter, sucking harder, and God help me, I love watching him come undone one breath at a time.

Seth

Ellie’s mouth is sin and salvation rolled into one, every suck and lick obliterating another inch of my sanity. I grip the phone tighter, forcing my voice to stay level as I rattle off information I couldn’t care less about right now, while my pulse tries to punch through my throat.

Jared interrupts, going on about another restaurant site he’s got his eyes set on. I’m barely able to track our conversation as Ellie’s hand tightens around my cock, and she slows her strokes, nearly sucking the come right out of me.

I grab ahold of her. The fire in her eyes sharpens, and she puts her hand over mine, pushing, giving me the green light to take control. Holy fuck. I guide her along my dick until it touches the back of her throat and try to stifle a groan as she relaxes those muscles, taking me impossibly deeper.

Jared says something, and Wells laughs, but I have no idea what was said. My focus is fractured, hanging on by a thread, and this incredible woman is the reason. On her knees, hair wild, eyes daring me to keep pretending I’m in charge, while every breath feels like it’s being dragged through fire. There’s nothing civilized left in me. Just hunger, greed, and the sound of her name beating in my head.

“Guys,” I say, strained to near breaking. “Gotta put you on speaker.”

I hit the button, mute the line, and toss it on the chair, their voices turning to white noise against the thunder in my ears. “Your mouth fucking wrecks me.”

“Then use it,” she challenges.

I grab her hair with both hands, and she lets me fuck her mouth like I own it. “That’s it. Take my cock.” The raw pleasure staring back at me nearly does me in. But fuuck, it’s never enough with her. I tug her head back, and she releases my dick. “On the couch,” I demand. “Hands and knees.”

“Yes.” She scrambles into position, looking over her shoulder at me as I kneel behind her, aligning our bodies.

“So fucking sexy, desperate for my cock.” I grab her hips and drive into her. She cries out, and I silently give myself hell. “Too hard?”

“No,” she pants out. “Fuck me, Mr. Braden. Fuck me like I’m yours.”

“You are mine, Nunnally, and don’t you forget it.” Driven by possessiveness, desire, and the soul-deep ache of Ellie Nunnally drilling into my heart, I grab a fistful of her hair and pound into her. “So fucking wet,” I growl.