Thief:A Bad Boy Romance(107)

 

“Fuck, Hunter-”

 

“How’s that memory working now?” He says darkly into my ear, making me shiver against him as his fingers work in slow circles over my panties.

 

“It’s-”

 

“How about now?”

 

I moan out loud as his fingers push my panties to the side and slide over my pussy. And then I’m yanking him down and into me, and whimpering as I feel his lips crush against my own. His hand comes up from my ass to cup my jaw as he pushes me hard against the statue behind us. Fingers push into my hair, pulling me tightly against his lips as he growls into my mouth and slides his tongue against mine.

 

I moan again as his finger slides wetly against my opening and pushes inside, shamelessly rocking my hips against him as it curls deep inside me.

 

And I know how bad this is. I know how horribly off-limits this is and how past the line we’re moving. Not to mention what would happen if we got caught like this.

 

Scandal on the highest level, a national affair that would ruin our lives. A dirty little secret that would be written about in fucking history books.

 

I don’t know what strings he pulled to get us here, but something tells me he’s past the line of what he should be doing by being in here only with me and not a whole group of agents. And that in itself just makes me think the chances of getting caught are even higher.

 

The danger is even more present, but for some reason, I’ve never been more wet and more turned on.

 

His finger curls against that sweet spot just inside, his thumb brushing over my clit and I moan into his mouth. I can feel his cock throbbing against me through his pants, and knowing he’s so hard and ready has my blood pounding in my chest.

 

I want him to take me, like he did before. I want him fuck me hard and rough. I want him to claim my body and make me melt into a puddle for him again.

 

Here in the dark of the museum, I want him to tear this ridiculous pants suit off my body, bend me over the half-wrapped statue behind me, and fuck me the way he did in that sex club.

 

The thought of it brings another whimper to my throat, and this time, he pulls away from my mouth with that grin on his face.

 

That arrogant fucking grin.

 

“I knew you’d beg for it,” he husks into my ear, making me furious despite the shiver slithering through me at the same time.

 

The smug, egotistical look on his face has me fuming, but the finger stroking my pussy has me rolling my hips against him, doing everything I can to hold back the moan on the verge of tumbling from my lips.

 

“Dream on,” I manage to gasp out, my eyes fluttering shut as his thumb rubs slow circles around my clit.

 

“Oh fight it all you want, doll,” he whispers against my ear, making me moan. “But you’ll beg me to let you come.”

 

My eyes flutter shut again as he strokes my clit, whimpering at his hands and the coarse way he’s talking to me.

 

“Not a fucking chance,” I mumble out, feeling my body melt against him.

 

And deep down, I know he’s right. Deep down, I know that no matter how hard I fight it or how much I lie through my teeth, if he keeps this up I’ll do and say anything for him to make me come. I want to deny it, and I hate my body for being so traitorous, but it’s true; I want him like I did that night.

 

And he damn well knows it.

 

“You will.” His lips graze my ear again as he reaches up, takes my hand, and starts to bring it down. “And when you do,” I moan as he brings my hand down to the bulge at the front of his suit, letting me feel every thick inch of him. “It’ll be with every inch of my cock inside of you.”

 

Oh, fuck.

 

“Just tell me you want it, princess.”

 

I shake my head, feeling my body start to fall over the edge as his fingers stroke in and out of me and his thumb circles my clit. “Uh-uh, nope, not even a little bi-”

 

There’s the sudden burst of static from a radio from somewhere down the hallway, and we both freeze.

 

“Roger that, checking the far hallway. B-team prepare for breech.”

 

Oh my God.

 

And then we’re both scrambling, jolted immediately into the now at the sound of the agent’s voice. I’m gasping as I rush to fix my pants and stuff my blouse back in.

 

I jump back from Hunter just as the sound of footsteps round the corner, and suddenly the lights are on and flooding the room, bathing the scene of the crime in light.

 

“Agent Ryan!” The man’s face is neutral but he does not sound pleased. He sets his jaw as he narrows his eyes at Hunter. “Agent, where is your-” His eyes land on the earpiece dangling from Hunter’s collar instead of in his ear where it should be, and suddenly he’s marching right over to us. “Jesus Christ, Ryan,” he mutters, his face suddenly livid as gets right in Hunter’s face as if I’m not standing right there.