Luke’s mouth moved over her jaw, down the line of her throat, pressing a burning kiss in the hollow where the bead of her necklace lay. She shivered. Holy crap, if this was what happened when he kissed her, how was she ever going to survive anything else?
Then his hand covered her breast, the heat of his palm melting through the sheer fabric of her blouse, and her mind blanked utterly. She groaned as his fingers found her nipple and pinched the hard tip, sending white-hot darts of pleasure straight between her legs.
Now. She had to have him now.
Marisa pulled at his jacket with trembling fingers, desperate for some skin to touch, only to encounter yet more wool once she got it open. Dear Lord, a vest? Did men still wear vests these days? She tore at the buttons, getting it open so she could then attack those of his shirt.
“Oh my God,” she panted, frustrated. “What’s with all these damn buttons?”
But then all thoughts of buttons vanished as he jerked up her skirt. His hands slid up the backs of her thighs and she trembled. Because despite the wildness, he was gentle and she couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched her like that.
“Oh…God…” She pressed against him, her breathing ragged. He stroked the curve of her buttocks, squeezing, then slipped one hand between her thighs.
Marisa let out a choked moan, pleasure rippling through her as his fingers explored her slick flesh. His thumb brushed over her clit, circling, demanding, the raw intensity of the pleasure drawing another cry from her.
Holy crap. Who’d have thought Mr. Uptight would be so good with his hands?
Desperate, she fumbled with the buckle of his belt, pulling open his trousers. Wanting to touch him as he was touching her. Oh, this was going way too fast but man, what a rush.
Her hands pushed into his boxers, gripping him. He felt so good, hard and ready for her. “I want you,” she whispered thickly. “Now, Luke. Now.”
But he pulled her hands away, reaching into the back pocket of his trousers, bringing out a slim black wallet. He flipped it open, took a silver packet out, then dropped the wallet carelessly on the ground.
A condom. Excellent.
“I can put that on you if you want,” she offered breathlessly.
“No.” His gaze pinned her to spot. “I’ll do it. You stand there and watch.”
Demanding bastard. But for some insane reason Marisa found herself doing as she was told. Watching him as he ripped open the packet, then slowly rolled the latex down over his erection. God, she wanted to touch him like that. Put her hands on him. Squeeze him. Drive him insane…
He lifted his attention back to her. “Arms above your head.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Like this.” And he grabbed her hands, pushing them above her head and holding her wrists in one hand. Rendering her helpless. The sensation thrilled her in a way she couldn’t have articulated, and yet made her want to pull against him at the same time, take back the control again.
But he wasn’t having any of that. Holding her wrists more tightly, he somehow managed to get rid of the remaining material in his way, sliding one hand behind her left knee, drawing her leg up and around his waist.
Marisa closed her eyes, shaking. It was like she was on the edge of a cliff, ready to jump off. And then he was pushing into her, hard and deep, and she was falling. Plummeting through the sky, spinning around and around. Free-falling into ecstasy.
She’d forgotten she was in the supply room of her office. That all her work colleagues were out there only meters away. That the man she was with was her über-boss.
She’d forgotten everything but him and what he was doing to her.
“Oh…” she groaned, arching back against the door, the stretch of him inside her almost too much. Too intense. Pinned, helpless, he seemed to fill every part of her, invading her, taking her like a conquering hero.
And she loved it. Completely loved it.
“Look at me,” he ordered roughly and she did. Without question. Meeting his gaze.
Losing herself in it.
“Luke…” His name panted out as he moved, the rhythm becoming faster, harder.
And then all thought, all speech became impossible as the climax exploded around her, pushing her off the side of the world and out into space.
…
Luke stood there, holding a panting Marisa against the door, unable to understand quite how he’d gotten there. One minute he’d been standing with her out in the corridor, handing her back her panties. The next he was in a supply room, inside her, his pants around his ankles, his brain still ringing like a bell from the orgasm that had shattered it.
How the hell had that happened?
Like the sports cars he collected and drove, sex was an outlet, a way to let off steam. It was one of the only ways he could let himself go, but even so, losing it and screwing a woman up against a bloody door, at work, was not the right way to go about it.