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Kept by Him(25)

By:Red Garnier


then he set her down, crushing her mouth fast. Too fast. “I want you. I’ve never wanted anything like

this.”

“I want you, too.”

He sucked her tongue and pressed her against the wall, their bodies grinding. “You look so sexy …

Christ, you feel so good.” His mouth meshed strongly into hers, firm, urgent fingers probing into her

sex, pressing anxiously inside. “God, Monica,” he rasped anxiously as he continued pressing, taking

her mouth in one hungry kiss, pushing his finger all the way into her pussy. “We can’t do this here,

princess.”

“No, don’t stop, don’t stop,” she pleaded as she curled one leg around him, pulling him closer.

Closer. He wasn’t close enough and she mewled as her hands quickly unbuckled his belt. She didn’t

know if it was an orgasm she sought, or possession. Penetration. Or just that soul-wrenching

incredible connection. But she wanted it bad.

He grabbed her wrist and halted her, his forehead gently weighing down on hers as he dragged in a

haggard breath. She was panting, breathing through her mouth, and the sounds made him raise his

head and tempted him to push his wet finger into her mouth.

She licked him mindlessly, recognizing her taste from yesterday, and his eyes flashed green fire as

he watched.

“If I stay, every single one of your employees out there will know I’m fucking you. Is that what you

want?”

She released him and shook her head, swallowing, hating at this very moment the very image she

had tried her entire life to create. One that never erred. Hardly human. The paparazzi would never find

anything in Monica Davenport to soil, to hurt, or to try to destroy. The first stabs of physical desire

denied struck her with painful force, and she could barely look up at the source of her desperate

wanting without aching all over.

“Thank you,” she murmured, reaching out to cup his jaw, but she caught the motion and dropped her

arm before another touch ignited the uncontrollable fire again.

As the door shut behind him, Monica sat down in the one chair, trembling, aching for him to come

back, her body out of order. Haywired. She massaged her temple and talked to herself inside her head,

saying that this was only a sexual thing, like hunger, and there was no need to panic. He would be hers

tonight again. He’d said so. He’d be in her bed tonight, and she’d feel him inside her. She had over a

week to get this matter resolved before her talk with Roland, and by then, she’d better get this

situation under control.

It took her long minutes of deep breathing to try to get her emotions under grips. Then she put on

her Botox face—the one devoid of emotion—and her clothes, and headed upstairs to the boardroom.

He was the first one she saw. As always, his presence dominated the entire room and the rest of the

eight members of her board. She greeted and smiled softly at everyone, but especially softly at Daniel,

and in her eyes she knew he could see the words I want you. I want you inside me again.…

As the reading of the minutes from the previous board meeting was underway, Monica could still

feel that telling dampness between her legs, so creamy that it slid down the inside of one thigh. Her

body didn’t even allow for the normal workings of her brain. It astounded her when she couldn’t

follow the conversation. She’d never had thoughts about anything other than Davenport’s during a

board meeting before, but now her mind scrambled and only seemed to focus on him, across the table

from her.

She wanted to slide her fingers down his body and over the thatch of blond hair where his sex

began. She wanted to see if he was still hard, if he still wanted her like she wanted him.

Her assistant poured coffee for the gentlemen, and Monica envied her nearness to Daniel. Every

meeting, Monica would always watch him more than anyone else, noticing whether something that

was said would make him tilt his head, narrow his eyes, or look down at his pen with a bored

expression.

She rarely openly asked for his advice, and yet her ultimate decisions always, always, weighed in

Daniel’s reactions. Today, he seemed about as interested in the conversation as she was.

His attention seemed solely for her, and his eyes were so hot she felt seared by them. His eyes

repeated his previous words in the cashmere throws, all that and more, reverberating inside her as he

looked at her. I could eat you up alive. I’m going to lick you. Bite you. Fuck every little part of you.

She trembled in her seat and almost moaned. She wanted his mouth, his hands, his skin. It was

foreplay at a boardroom table and Monica knew it was wrong, wrong, wrong, but she’d been pressed