Dylan brought his lips closer and teased her, nipping at her chin and the corners of her mouth. He chuckled at the frustrated sigh she gave, impatient to have his lips join with hers. His eyes were wide open and stared into the fathomless depths of her turquoise orbs. His tongue traced the outline of her lips and she parted them, ready for all of him.
Dylan took the kiss slowly, deepening it with a gentle thrust of his tongue, but she wouldn't let him take his time. She growled low in her throat and pressed her lips fiercely to his. He couldn't hold his control back any longer and met her, stroke for stroke. He'd never had anything that tasted as sweet as Anna Hollis did at that moment. The shy woman she'd been was gone, replaced with a fiery passion that burned him from the inside out.
"Touch me," she demanded.
He whirled her around, so her back was pressed against the desk, and he lifted her so she was barely sitting on the edge. The kiss was scorching, out of control, with a passion so intense he lost himself to the heat of it.
Things were moving faster than he'd anticipated, but he couldn't control his body, the instinct to mate prevalent in his mind. He bunched the red skirt around her waist so he could press his throbbing member to her wet heat.
"Oh God," she said, feeling him thrust against her, grinding slowly.
Only the barrier of his jeans and her red lace thong kept him from entering her. He could tell she was close to climaxing by the little whimpers she was making in the back of her throat.
Her pleasure would have to be enough for now. As much as he wanted to take her across the top of his desk, he knew a building full of people was not the place to do it. And besides, when he got her naked, he wanted her to stay that way for a long time. He knew he wouldn't be satisfied with having her only once.
Dylan leaned back to look at the woman in front of him, but kept their centers pressed close together. Their breaths were heaving, and he watched her shiver as he ran the tips of his fingers across her nipples, making them harden even more. Anna's eyes dilated at his touch and she inhaled quickly.
He took the zipper of her jacket between his fingers and brought it down slowly, inch by inch, until it sat open, showing hints of the red lace bra beneath it.
It was like opening a gift on Christmas morning-better than a gift. She was every fantasy come to life, and for the time being, she was all his. Her breasts were full and ripe, spilling from the cups of her bra with every breath. She was magnificent.
"Are you sure you want me to touch you?" he asked, skimming her nipples again with his knuckles.
She could barely speak, the sensations were so marvelous. "Yes," she said on a moan.
Dylan flipped the front clasp of her bra open and stared in wonder at the magnificent globes in front of him. He tweaked her nipples between his two fingers and squeezed gently, causing her to buck her pelvis against his own. He kissed her swollen mouth again, keeping up the duel assault on her nipples and clitoris.
"Do you like this?" he asked.
"Yes. . .yes. I want more."
"Tell me exactly what you want," he demanded.
"I want you inside me. I want you to fill me up," she panted. She was close to the edge, but he moved his fingers just shy of the sweet spot on her clitoris to prolong her pleasure. It was torture.
"How do you want me to fill you up?"
She was speechless. The effort it took to talk took too much out of her overly sensitized body.
"Do you want me to put my cock in your pussy?" he pushed relentlessly. "What about your mouth? Will you take it in your mouth and swallow everything I have to give you? How about your ass," he said, pushing his pinky down her drenched slit to the tiny puckered hole beneath.
"Oh, God. Yessssss," she screamed, and she bucked violently against his ministrations as she came in a violent crash of waves that took over her body and creamed his fingers. Sensations of light and color dimmed her vision until she thought she'd gone blind with the pleasure. She fell against him as exhaustion replaced passion.
"Oh my God," she said. "What was that?"
Dylan chuckled at her question, his need still raging in the lower half of his body. "That was an orgasm. The first of many you'll have with me."
"If I would have known it felt like this, I would have made some changes sooner," Anna said with a mischievous smile.
Dylan backed away from her slowly, his body a ticking time bomb, and winced at the discomfort of his straining erection.
"What about you?" she asked, noticing his pain.
"Today is not for me. It was an introduction of things to come, a demonstration of sorts. Not to mention the fact that I forgot to lock my office door, and we're taking a hell of a chance. But I'm not going to wait too much longer. I've wanted to fuck you for months."
He backed up quickly because he could tell that his words had reignited her arousal. He zipped up her jacket and helped her adjust her skirt. "Give me a few minutes to get my body under control, and we'll go meet with my architect before I change my mind and take you on the desk."
Anna looked like she wanted to take him up on the offer but got shakily to her feet and followed him to the door instead.
"I can't go out there like this," she said, referring to her slightly rumpled skirt and kiss swollen lips. "Do you think he'll know what we've been doing?"
"No," Dylan lied with a straight face.
Anyone would be able to tell what they'd been doing, especially Mitchell. He was no stranger to an aroused woman.
Anna looked like the morning after a wild night of passion. Her hair was tousled, her lipstick was gone and her face was flushed and dewy.
"I'll come by tonight as soon as I get off and we can finish what we've started. Does that sound like a good idea to you?" he asked, already counting down the minutes. He kissed her forehead gently and ushered her towards the door.
"Oh, yes," she answered. "We'll need to go somewhere else, because I wouldn't feel comfortable with you staying the night in the same house as my father. Even though we're in separate wings of the house, it's still too close for my comfort."
Dylan didn't bother to correct her assumption that he'd be spending the whole night with her. He never stayed the whole night. It was rule number one for staying unattached. He was going to strive to be the best teacher he could be. Of course, the benefits were more than rewarding if she was an apt pupil, and he had every reason to believe she would be after their first encounter.
Anna walked out to the parking lot in front of the offices of Maguire Homes with her legs still shaking. The sun beat down on her drained body, and the pavement felt unsteady beneath her feet. Earth-shattering was the only way she could think to describe her first encounter with Dylan Maguire.
The meeting with Mitchell had been embarrassing to say the least, her mind unable to stay focused on telling him exactly what she wanted for a house. All she could think about was the feel of Dylan's lips against hers.
She stopped at her car and dug her keys out of her bag. They always seemed to end up at the very bottom amidst all the other junk she carried around. She didn't notice the note until she'd gotten behind the wheel. The piece of yellow paper placed under her windshield wiper was like a flag flapping in the breeze.
"Uhh," she groaned, getting out of the car once again. All she wanted to do was go home, take a hot shower, get into bed and get some sleep so she was at her best when Dylan came to pick her up. Being a sex kitten was harder than she'd thought it would be. Her mind was already wandering, thinking of a relaxing evening at home when she opened the note.
Dylan Maguire is mine. Stay away from him, slut. OR ELSE.
Anna stood on the pavement, her legs frozen at the words on the page. Dread roiled in her stomach along with something along the lines of disappointment. It didn't look like Dylan was going to be available to her after all. She'd have to think long and hard about whether or not he was worth the risk.
Chapter Four
Dylan stood on the wide, covered front porch of the Hollis's plantation style house and rang the doorbell for the third time.
Under normal circumstances, his builder's curiosity would be amazed at the craftsmanship of a house over a hundred years old, one of the earliest built in Paradise. He'd run his hands along the large white columns that flanked the massive front doors of the Greek Revival Mansion, or inspect the hand cut glass that laid in the double-hung windows.