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Another whispered growl leaves his lips: “You know we have to do this.”
Then he pulls me in for a kiss, one hand firmly placed at the back of my head, as our lips meet with voracious need.
Chapter 19
Chase
Any doubts about whether this was the right move or not are dissolved the moment our lips meet. She welcomes me with impatient need, tugging at the thick fabric of my suit jacket. She pulls me in closer, wanting, taking just as much as she’s giving.
Our tongues entwine in a sensuous dance, exploring the uncharted territory of each other’s mouths. Her taste is exhilarating, a sweet symphony of lust and champagne, tinged with taboo. We lose ourselves in a passionate kiss, a testament to the connection we both fought to deny.
And yet, it’s not enough. Tasting Madison only makes me want her even more—and she seems to feel the same way. Her body wraps around mine, the perfect curves of her hips grinding against me, while my hand trails down along her athletic back. The tips of my fingers trail across the crisscrossing straps of her dress, sending electric jolts through me every time I come in direct contact with her warm skin.
She moans into my mouth when my hand lands on her ass, cupping and squeezing so hard that it must come close to being painful. Her reaction to it almost makes me lose control when she arches her back and leans into my touch, practically begging for more. She likes a firm hand. She may even enjoy a bit of pain.
I know she’s feeling it. I know she notices the way my cock is rising to attention, growing harder with every moment she spends in my greedy hold. But I don’t care. She’s fucking perfect. It’s only right for her to know how much I want her.
We’re both breathing heavily when I break our kiss to look her in the eyes. But she rises to speak before I can say anything.
“I hate you,” she breathes—before she lunges into me for more.
My grip around her tightens, a desperate attempt to keep the reins that she’s trying to take from me. I’m in control. Always. But I almost lose that control as we indulge in an even more passionate kiss, our bodies clinging to each other like two lost lovers who have been reunited after being separated for an eternity. And, in a weird way, that’s exactly what it feels like.
The realization sends a shock through my body that pulls me back to reality. I keep her in place by closing my fist in her hair, ruining her elaborate updo, as I break our kiss anew.
Her lips are still parted when she looks up at me, her face flushed while her chest heaves with erratic breaths.
“I hate you,” she repeats, but her words carry no weight.
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t.”
Her lashes begin to flutter, while confusion adorns her pretty face. I can tell that she wants to say something, but for whatever reason, the words never leave her lips.
“This is not enough,” I tell her. “I want more.”
“Now?” she retorts with a chuckle, but I remain serious.
“No, not now, not here. I’m not going to fuck you against the balustrade or in a random bathroom,” I say nonchalantly. I relish the way her body twitches at my lewd words. For a moment, it almost looks like she’s about to moan at the thought of being fucked by me.
“But I will fuck you,” I add, moving closer to her face, so close that our lips are touching as I speak. “I will fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.”
Her eyes widen when I let go of her and lift my hand to play with a strand of hair that has fallen from her updo. She sucks in a sharp breath of air when I tuck it behind her ear, and the tip of my finger gently dances across her cheek, before I journey down along her neck to her collarbone.
“You sound awfully sure of yourself,” she retorts, shuddering with tension. Her voice is trembling, just like her lips when she speaks.
She swallows dryly, and her eyes flit back over her shoulder, landing on the award as it glistens in the moonlight next to us. She never leaves my embrace, and even ignores the hand that is still cupping her firm ass.
“Why?” she wants to know. “Why that charity?”
“What do you mean?” I ask back, curious as to why she’s changing the subject now. Is she really this embarrassed about what just happened? Does she intend to ignore what just happened between us?
“Why children in poverty?” she asks. “Did you think that would make you look the best?”
I look at her with narrowed eyes. “Is that really all you can see? The cold-hearted businessman who thinks of no one but himself?”
To be fair, she wouldn’t be entirely wrong.
