Page 66 of Bound To Be Mine

His soft lips were demanding but gentle. He kissed me like he had in that video. But now I was getting to experience it for real. And it was so much better than I ever imagined.

I groaned and leaned into him. His hand slid into my hair, gently pulling to angle my head. And then he deepened the kiss. His tongue swept into my mouth. My hands moved down his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. I wanted that shirt gone. I wanted everything gone.

And I was damn well going to get it. I started to tug at his shirt and then my fingers worked his buttons. I’d been thinking about this moment since I laid eyes on him in that conference room, all buttoned up and professional.

But now, with his shirt falling open under my fumbling fingers, I wasn’t thinking about anything except how desperately I wanted him.

“Mandy,” he groaned against my mouth, his hands sliding down to grip my waist. “Are you sure about this?”

“Stop talking,” I whispered, finally getting the last button undone and pushing his shirt off his shoulders.

Holy hell.

Briggs Blackwell had been hiding a body under all those perfectly tailored suits. Broad shoulders, defined chest, abs that looked like they’d been carved from marble. I ran my hands over his bare skin, feeling the heat of him, the way his muscles tensed under my touch.

His mouth crashed back onto mine as he stood, pulling me up with him. His hands found the hem of my shirt and tugged it over my head. Then his fingers were at my back, unhooking my bra with a quick flick.

“Someone’s done this before,” I teased breathlessly.

“Once or twice,” he murmured against my neck, his lips trailing down to my collarbone. His hands cupped my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples, and I gasped at the sensation.

I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his hair. The sensation was overwhelming. His tongue, his teeth, the suction that had me moaning his name.

His hand slid down my stomach, fingers working the button of my shorts. He pulled both my shorts and underwear off in one go, tossing them somewhere behind the couch.

“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, his eyes roaming over me.

I felt a flush creep up my chest. “Your turn.”

He made quick work of his pants and boxers, and then he was naked before me. All of him. And oh my God, he was perfect. Every inch of him was hard and ready. I felt my core clench with anticipation.

And then he was pulling me close. His hard, hot body pressed against mine. I rubbed against him in an almost feline way.

He backed us against the bed. I climbed on, ignoring the little insecure voice in the back of my head telling me to be shy.

Fuck being shy. I wanted the man.

“Hold on,” he said and rushed into the bathroom.

He returned a second later tearing open a condom. Always the responsible one. He quickly rolled it on.

He paused, his gaze raking over mine. Something dark and primal flashed in his eyes. “Damn, I want to drag this out, but I need you.”

“We’ll do all the foreplay later. I also need you, right fucking now.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

He dropped to the bed, his weight smothering mine for a brief second before he stretched out beside me. His mouth claimed mine once again with his hand sliding between us. His fingers found my center, stroking through my wetness and rubbing over my clit. I gasped into his mouth.

“God, you’re so wet,” he groaned. “Is this all for me?”

“All for you,” I confirmed, my hips rocking against his hand.

He slid one finger inside me, then another, curling them in a way that had me seeing stars. His thumb found my clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure. Fast and then slow. I felt like I was spinning and floating at the same time.

“Briggs,” I moaned, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Please.”

“Please what?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. “Tell me what you want.”