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Why was he marked with places near me?
“I’m not who you think I am.”
His words dented the haze of lust. Who had he been before Blake Carson, creator of the glass empire?
He dragged my attention—and my mouth—back to his neck and up to his mouth. The kiss was drugging and mind-erasing. He shifted and a whisper of silk made me open my eyes. And his lips were gone.
“Blake?”
He shrugged his shirt back on, and then wrapped his burgundy-colored tie around my wrists. “You haven’t really grasped the idea of a quickie, have you, Ms. Copeland?”
My mouth went dry as he brought the ends between my hands and tucked them into the curve of my fingers. I could get free if I wanted. Okay, maybe with a little wiggling, but I could get free.
He lifted my joined hands and hooked them around his neck. “Hold on, Ms. Copeland.”
I squeaked when he picked me up, pushing my skirt up before setting me back on the table. It was an old drafting table, and sturdy as hell. I was pretty sure I was just about to find out how sturdy.
“Stockings?”
I swallowed hard as he ran his hands up my inner thighs. Worse. Pantyhose. The seriously most unsexy garments made in the history of man. I squirmed, but he simply drew me closer to the edge of the table. He hovered his lips over mine as he found the seam between my legs and dug his fingers in.
I gasped at the rending of silk and the sudden cool air across the apex of my legs.
“They were in my way.”
“Can’t have that, can we?” I muttered.
He nudged my panties aside. “No.” Then he covered my mouth and he slowly slid two fingers inside of me. I groaned around the invasion of his tongue and fingers at the same time. I wanted to clamp my legs shut, but his hips were in the way.
Too much.
Not enough.
I curled my arms around his neck. Hindered by my bindings, I couldn’t pull myself up higher, push forward for something deeper. I was completely at his mercy.
I tore my mouth away, my cheek pressing against his bearded one. “Quickie, you say?”
“I changed my mind.” His strokes were slow and methodical, and his mouth went from drugging to melting as he sipped from my collarbone and pushed the strap of my dress out of the way. “What else do we have under here?”
“Not fair.” He’d stopped me from exploring, dammit.
He lifted his head until my arms were stretched, and his fingers slipped from my body. He flicked his belt tail free, and the clink of the needle hitting his buckle as he opened his pants sounded so damn loud. “I don’t play fair, Ms. Copeland.”
He ducked lower, dragging his teeth over the brocade top of my dress. The sound of his teeth tugging at the lace and tiny bits of embroidery over my nipples stalled any breath I had left in my lungs.
“Blake.” I tried to hold on to his neck and the longer silky strands of his hair, but he had a plan.
He crouched in front of me at the table and widened my thighs. “You wouldn’t want them to hear you, now would you?” He held a finger—one that just had been inside me—in front of his lips.
“Oh God,” I whispered. With nothing but his shoulders to hang on to, I ended up flat on my back when he tipped my knees up to get closer. When I tried to struggle up again, he pressed a hand over my bunched up dress.
And then he was there, between my thighs. He pushed my panties aside and lapped at me—gently at first. Such a slow and thorough taste that I squirmed from the pleasure and the onslaught of Blake learning every part of me. This wasn’t what we were about. It was the quick and dirty with clothes still on. It wasn’t the fringes of romance where a man wanted to please his woman.
I lifted to his mouth. I didn’t want to. I wanted to push him away, but I lifted for him. I rested my heel on his shoulder as he took more—demanded all. I lifted my tied hands to my mouth and bit into the tie. Anything to muffle the cries that wanted to erupt from me.
I thrashed on the table and he held me down. With just that one hand, he held me still and used his other hand ruthlessly. His thumb along my clit worked in symphony with his mouth until my thighs quaked and the skylight above me was nothing more than a blur of blue and white.
When I didn’t think I could take any more, he finally stood. He pulled me to the edge of the table, and I heard the snap of latex.
