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“Preparing for tonight.” He tugged on my dress, pulling me even closer, issuing a husky growl before untying the sash.
“You’re incorrigible.”
As he peeled the material away, I took a deep breath. His touch alone was enough to calm me. He slid the dress over my shoulders, lowering his head and nipping my collarbone, allowing gravity to handle the rest.
“I crave your beautiful body,” he whispered, the tone husky and dark.
“You do, huh?” I reached for his belt, giving him a wistful look.
“You know I do. You’re such a bad girl.”
“Never.”
Without hesitation, he swung me around, pushing me over the edge of his desk. As he slipped his fingers under the thin elastic of my thong, I gasped, but not soon enough to matter. He ripped them away, dangling them off to the side for a few seconds. Then he swatted me several times on the bottom, moving from one side to the other.
“You’ll always need discipline.”
“That hurts.”
“Absolutely,” he chuckled darkly, pressing his hand against the small of my back as he smacked my buttocks several times. As the heat on my skin started to increase, so did the wetness between my legs. Within seconds, I was moaning, the hunger building to a crescendo. He had that kind of effect on me, pushing me to the point I lost all self-control.
Panting, I pushed up from the desk, half expecting to see someone walk in through the door. Did I really care? The answer was an easy no. I closed my eyes as he continued bringing down his hand, the hard slapping sound scintillating my senses.
I could tell by his ragged breathing that he wasn’t going to be able to hold off for very long. As I moaned, allowing the sound to become exaggerated, he rolled his hand between my legs, fingering my clit. “Are you trying to tease me?”
“Of course not.”
He slipped his fingers inside, pumping several times. “Because if you are, two can play at that game.”
I was so wet and hot I couldn’t think straight, my mind a delicious blur. I wiggled on his desk, trying to control my breathing. He was such a dominating man, refusing to take no for an answer. Just when I thought he was going to allow me to climax, he removed his hand, easing me off the desk to face him once again.
There was such a spark of lust in his eyes that I wasn’t certain he could see clearly. His upper lip curled as he pulled his chair closer. “What is it that you love about my office?”
I rolled my fingers down from his neck to his open collared shirt, slowly unfastening one button at a time. “It’s very masculine. The desk. The wood. The books. Your scent remains.”
“Hmmm…” He watched me with hooded eyes as I finished unbuttoning, immediately returning to his trousers. As soon as I pushed them past his hips, he sat down in the chair, pulling me on top of him. “Then I’ll have to fuck you in here more often.” He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, guiding the tip just past my swollen folds. Then he yanked me down, filling me completely.
“Oh, God. Please… do.” I gripped his shoulders as I threw my head back, my muscles struggling to expand. I didn’t care how many times he fucked me; every time was fresh and amazing. I couldn’t get enough of him. He held me in place, pulling me forward and pressing kisses against my stomach.
I rolled my hips forward, electric sensations dancing all the way down to my toes.
“So tight,” he muttered as he flicked his finger back and forth across my nipple. The moment he pinched it between his fingers, I started bucking against him, rocking slowly as the combination of pain and pleasure rolled through me.
“So hard,” I countered, lowering my head, tossing my hair back and forth.
He twisted my aching bud until I cried out again. “I could fuck you for days.”
Purring, I blew across his face then darted my tongue around his lips, entangling my fingers in his hair and tugging his head. I was the one who captured his mouth, squeezing my thighs against him as I rocked faster. The friction was already incredible, the kiss a sweet remembrance of the passion that had blown me away.
He’d promised he’d keep me safe. He’d told me he loved me.
But I wasn’t certain if that would ever be enough.
I’d had horrific nightmares, blood spilled everywhere. Even now, as I clenched my eyes shut, trying to enjoy the moment, a horrible sense of fear remained.
“Ride me, baby. I can’t get enough of you,” he growled and fisted my hair, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Just ride me.”
I sensed such a difference in him, as if everything over the last few days had taken a toll. He didn’t like not being in control, but it wasn’t about arrogance. His need came from a place of fear, which he refused to allow me to see. He was frightened he’d lose me.
