The Consequence He Must Claim(47)

“Look at me,” he said in a rasp. “Open your eyes or I’ll stop.”

She opened her eyes to slits, begging him with her gaze to give her some privacy as she dealt with what he was doing to her. She tried to pull her hands free, but he didn’t let her.

“I have wanted and wanted and wanted,” he said, tracing low then covering her with his hand in a warm blanket of heat so she throbbed with reaction, breath stuttering.

He held her in his hot palm and it was too flagrant, yet not nearly enough. Not after those first teasing caresses.

“Do you want me? This?”

She nodded shakily.

“Show me.”

She didn’t know what he meant, but pressed into his hand, lost in the passion that turned his eyes a vivid green. He held his hand steady for her undulations. Flutters of excitement rose through her belly and trembled in her thighs.

He praised her in Valencian, telling her she was beautiful, that what she was doing was nice. Exciting. “You’re so wet. I always knew you would respond to a firm hand in the bedroom,” he said, looking at where she was rocking against his palm.

She sobbed, thinking that he’d said something like that the first time, but he pressed a finger inside her and her mind blanked.

“Keep moving,” he coaxed. “Do you like that?” His thumb swept and a lightning bolt of intense pleasure contracted in her abdomen, making her shudder. “You do.”

“I can’t stand,” she gasped.

“I won’t let you fall. I’m trying to be gentle. Is this too rough?”

“No. It’s not...”

“Not enough? Move with me. Show me how you want it.”

She did. She stood there and let him watch her and pleasure her until her thighs were shaking and her muscles contracted and cries of release broke from her parted lips.

He gathered her in as her knees weakened, damp hand slipping free to catch behind her thighs as he picked her up. She quivered in his arms, clinging, stunned as he carried her to the bed.

He peeled her underwear away as he left her on the mattress, then stood looking at her.

She threw her arm over her eyes, mortified at how uninhibited she’d just been.

“Oh, corazón, if you’re feeling shy after that, you are in for some shocks. I have a lot of fantasies to fulfill.”

“You’re not supposed to have dirty thoughts about your employees.” She peeked from beneath her arm in time to see a wolfish grin flash.

He stood at the side of the bed to drop away his cummerbund, then tore his shirt open before he yanked it from his pants and off his golden shoulders. Muscled arms wrenched out of sleeves and one cuff link hit something across the room with a ping.

“I don’t have dirty thoughts about all of them. Just you. I mentally bent you across my desk daily,” he confessed casually.

Her jaw slackened. “That’s...bad!”

He jerked open his pants, efficient as he stripped.

Last time... She stopped thinking about last time. It was too much like a dream. This time felt like the first time all over again, even more profound.

If possible, he was even more perfect than he had been then. He was flawless, from the rope-like muscles across his chest to his neatly muscled arms. An arrow of hair dissected his perfectly delineated abs and a pale tan line accented the crease at the tops of his long, taut thighs.

And then there was the long, thick, darkly flushed organ that barely moved as he skimmed his shorts away and leaned toward the night table.

“I never acted on those thoughts,” he said. “My favorite was the blue skirt that was just a little too short for the office.” He brought a box out of the drawer. “You always wore it with that prim little shirt with the round collar that had a button that strained just a little bit, right here.” He pointed to the spot on his breastbone between his nipples. “I wanted to rip open that shirt and push that skirt up to your waist so badly.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if I did all the work and you were just sitting there thinking about sex.”

“I multitask.”

Didn’t he? In one motion he tore open a blue packet and applied the condom while arousing her with a few naughty remarks and the blaze of sexual hunger in his gaze as he visually traversed her nude form.

She wanted to show some modesty and shield herself, but there was a brazen part of her that enjoyed his obvious hunger. She thought about the way he’d taken her apart and wanted to have the same effect on him.

Giving a little writhe on the coverlet, she watched for reaction, surprised when he reached out and stilled her knee. His gaze flashed into hers and she thought, Oh.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, voice a breathy taunt. “You told me that day that I needed a man who would take control because I have too much of it. Do you still think that?”