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My right knee buckles. It turns to jello and stops working. I feel myself tilting to the side, but Theo’s there to catch me with a hand on my side, his grip firm as he sets me back to rights.
“I like it,” is all I can manage.
He pulls back to look at me. In the dark, his green eyes look feral, clouded over with lust. “But I’m being the bad guy.”
“Maybe—maybe I like the bad guy sometimes.”
“Jesus Christ,” he bites out.
“I’m allowed to like both. The hero and the bad guy.”
“That’s not—” He hangs his head. Lets out a noisy breath. “I’m trying real hard not to break you in half, honey.”
Honey. The pressure in my core becomes acute.
“Do it,” I say. “Do it right now.”
He shouldn’t. I shouldn’t. But he looks up and his eyes lock on mine. They’re liquid, wide open. I see how badly he wants to touch me. I see how much he’s enjoying playing the alpha, how he still wants more despite how wrong it is.
Is it, though? Is it so wrong if I’m more turned on than I’ve been in forever? If I feel safe, despite being practically ravaged in public?
If I feel free? Free of judgment, free of boundaries. Free of expectations.
Theo’s showing me who he is. It’s the sexiest thing I think I’ve ever witnessed.
Eyes still on mine, his hand moves to my skirt. He gathers the hem in his fist and guides the fabric up to my hips. My clit throbs. I know I’ve soaked through my thong; I’d be embarrassed if I didn’t feel so oddly comfortable with this man, the one who slides his hand between my legs to cup my pussy.
The one who presses the heel of that hand into my warmth and kisses me at the same time. His tongue strokes into my mouth as he traces his middle finger up the length of my slit over the lace. My legs are already shaking.
When I think I’m about to burst with anticipation, Theo gently pulls my thong to the side. His thumb finds my clit, and I gasp when he rolls the pad of that thumb over me, my hips rolling into his touch.
Meanwhile, his middle finger toys with my entrance, using it to spread my arousal front to back.
“Aw, honey, I like this,” he says, and I can only assume he’s referring to how wet I am because he’s sinking that finger inside me. I tighten around him, but he still enters me easily, slowly, like he’s savoring the heat, how swollen I am. Something about his careful exploration makes the stuff in my chest start to float, weightless.
I close my eyes and try to shore up my defenses. He just said he’d break me.
What if I want to be broken, though?
I like the way he’s pushing me. Like how he’s pinned me to a wall with his dick thrust against my belly and his hand between my legs. I’ve held myself together long enough. I want to shatter, and I feel safe enough to do that right now, with him. Theo Morgan. The man who cheated me at work and insulted my best client and wants to steal the title I’ve worked so hard for.
What the hell am I doing?
His mouth leaves mine at the same moment he pulls back his hands. I let out a frustrated sound, my heart falling, but then he’s literally ripping my thong off my body. He’s getting on his knees and he’s hiking my left leg over his shoulder and oh yes he trails kisses down my stomach until he reaches my pussy.
He pushes my leg a little more to the side, spreading me wide. I dig my hands into his hair to keep from screaming when he presses an open-mouthed kiss to my clit. I watch his head move as he eats me out patiently, thoroughly, the scrape of his tongue delivering exactly the kind of friction I need. My hips roll against his mouth, seeking more, and he delivers, nipping at my clit, tonguing my entrance.
This is obscene. We could be caught. Arrested. Fired.
More.
He sucks my clit into his mouth, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out. Part of me wants him to make good on his promise to put his dick in my mouth to shut me up. The idea of him wrapping my hair around his fist and shoving his length down my throat is . . . so freaking hot. I close my eyes and imagine the fierceness of his expression as he pushes deeper, holding my head steady—
“Fuck,” I sob, my orgasm ripping through me with the punishing force of a hundred-foot wave. I tighten my fingers in Theo’s hair and hold on for dear life. His hands are on my ass, my hips, keeping me steady while I come, and come, the release sharp and shocking.
