Page 71 of My Beautiful Sin

She pressed a hand over his cock, harder now.

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No.” Her grin was impish as she stroked him. “But I like the fantasy.”

He did, too, and that reality only fueled his desire. He stood, taking her with him. “Over my desk,” he said, needing to claim her. Take her.

She did as he asked, her breasts on the polished wood, her hands gripping the far side. Her ass right in front of him. And his cock—well, his cock wouldn’t wait any longer.

Roughly he forced her legs apart as she murmured, “Yes.” He slipped his fingers into her, thinking to ready her, but there was no need. He’d never felt her this slippery, and right then he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

“I think you’re hired, Mr. Saint,” she said, and he fought back a laugh. Instead, he twined his fingers in her hair with one hand as he guided his cock with the other.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded, easing inside her. Just enough to tease. Just enough to make her whimper. “Tell me you want more.”

“Yes.” Her hips wiggled in demand, and he released her hair so that he could hold onto her hips and lose himself inside her. A primal claiming. A desperate taking. He’d never been with any woman in his office, but with El—

With her, he wanted—needed—everything.

Desire washed through him, erasing coherent thought. The scent of her, the memory of her. He wanted to take her everywhere, every way. More than that, he needed it.

He moved his hands, slipping one under her so he could tease her clit, his other hand on the small of her back as he buried himself inside her, each stroke taking him higher, each of her moans working on him like an aphrodisiac, taking him closer and closer to the edge. And when she lifted her head and twisted around, her eyes meeting his, it was as if she’d kicked him right over the cliff. He exploded inside her, her body tightening around his as they came together, their eyes locked, time stopping, until slowly, so very slowly, the world shifted back onto its axis, and his spent body went limp.

With a satisfied sigh, she started to get up. He helped her, then used a tissue from his desk drawer for a quick cleanup.

“Well,” she said, settling on the edge of his desk. “I guess you’re hired.”

They shared a grin before he cupped her cheek and kissed her sweetly. “Come on,” he said, gathering her clothes and leading her to the washroom.

“I’m glad you came,” he said when she was dressed and they were both fixing their clothes.

She took his hand as they headed back into the the office. “Me, too. Busy day?”

“Always. What’s on your agenda?”

It was the right question, obviously, because she lit up. “I have a lead,” she said. “An anonymous source with a tip about the Myers assassination. With luck, it’ll lead to identifying the shooter.”

His entire body went stiff, the pleasure of the past moments shoved under by a wave of irritation.

His voice was as hard as ice as he said, “Why on earth would you pursue that? You met Sue. You talked to Laura. You know how broken they were, and Sue was one of the lucky ones. Whoever took that SOB out deserves a medal, not an indictment.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she said, her voice as tight as his. “Just hold on a minute. I might not give a flying fuck that Myers is dead, but that doesn’t change the fact that whoever killed him committed a crime. The shooter was a self-appointed judge and jury, and that’s not the way things work.”

“Myers had already been convicted and sentenced,” he reminded her. “He was released on appeal due to a technicality. Not because he was innocent.”

“That may be so, but that doesn’t give the shooter—”

He held up a hand, wishing they were on the same page about this. “Hang on. Just hang on.” He knew that growing up with a father who was the Chief of Police and then working as a cop herself colored the way Ellie looked at the justice system. Still, he wished he could make her understand the way he thought.

“I get that we disagree,” he said slowly, trying to gather his thoughts. “But with the position you’re taking, you’re essentially saying that whoever killed my father—whoever killed The Wolf—deserves to be prosecuted. Even though by killing that vile excuse for a human being, the shooter saved hundreds, probably thousands of lives.”

“People can’t just assassinate—”

“My father was one of the most notorious criminals who walked this earth. He did horrible things to me and to everybody he stumbled across.” Devlin felt bile rise in his throat along with the memories. Forcibly, he pushed it down, trying to keep his voice steady.

“He went out of his way to hurt people,” he continued, “and one day someone took the son of a bitch out. If we go by the rules that you’re advocating, that someone deserves to be put in jail. Possibly even sentenced to death. That’s where your train of thought goes. You know that, right?”

She winced, his words obviously hitting home, and he had to wonder if she’d guessed the truth already. If she knew that he was the one who’d pulled the trigger and taken out The Wolf almost two years after he’d walked away from her.