Unveiled(71)

I want it harder. Faster. I’m craving more. More Miller. I bunch his suit jacket in my fists and hang on for dear life. Then I push my mouth to his and tackle his tongue. He needs to know I’m okay. He wants to fuck me but worship me. He wants the things that make us us. Touching. Tasting. Loving.

“Harder,” I shout into his mouth, just so he knows I’m fine with this. I’m loving it. Everything about it—the strength of him, his merciless taking of me, his claiming of me, where we are…

“Oh sweet Jesus, Livy.” His mouth moves to my neck. He bites and sucks, my head falls back as my hold of him moves to his shoulders, and he doesn’t falter one… little… bit. The speed of his advancing hips picks up a gear. Or two. Could possibly be three. “Fuck!”

“Oh God!” I yelp, feeling the rush of blood hurtling to my center. “Oh God, oh God, oh God! Miller!” My hearing is muffled, my mind distorted, and I finally give up and close my eyes, leaving me blind, too. Now all I have is feeling. Lots of feelings. “I’m coming!”

“Oh yes! Come for me, sweet girl.” His face emerges from my neck and he tackles my mouth, impatiently pushing his tongue past my lips when I fail to open up to him. I’m too focused on the orgasm powering forward. It’s going to blow my world into pieces.

I begin to panic when I get stuck at a point of no return, yet not seeming to be able to capture my release. I tense everywhere. I’m rigid in his arms, only moving because of Miller’s control of our bodies. He strikes me over and over, yanking my body onto his while our mouths attack each other violently. But it won’t happen. I can’t get there, and my frustration explodes. “Fucking harder!” I yell in desperation. “Make it happen!” I reach up and boldly yank at his hair, making him shout as he hammers forward.

But he stops. Abruptly. My rage only multiplies by a million when he smirks at me. He’s watching me gasp unevenly all over him, feeling me squeeze him within me. He’s ready to explode, too. I can see it past the smug satisfaction of his gaze. But I’m not sure if that satisfaction is because he has me going out of my mind or because he has me on William’s desk.

The sheen of sweat glistening on his brow diverts my attention there momentarily… until he speaks, pulling my eyes back to his. “Say I’m yours,” he orders quietly.

My pounding heart pounds harder. “You’re mine,” I tell him with one hundred percent conviction.

“Elaborate.”

He’s holding me on the cusp of orgasm, holding us tightly together, his groin pushed against my sex the only thing keeping me there. “You. Belong. To. Me.” I spell it all out for him, loving the glint of gratification that replaces the smugness. “Me,” I affirm. “No one else gets to taste you, feel you”—I cup his cheeks with my palms and press my lips to his, biting down a little before licking my mark—“or love you.”

A long moan emanates from my part-time gentleman. A happy moan. “Correct,” he murmurs. “Lie back, sweet girl.”

I comply willingly, releasing his face and dropping to my back as I look up at him. He smiles, that glorious, dizzying smile, then circles his groin deeply and slowly, pushing me instantly over the edge. “Oooh.” I sigh and close my eyes, my hands delving into my blond and holding my head as it shakes from side to side.

“I concur,” Miller moans, shuddering above me before quickly pulling out and resting his length on my stomach. It’s only then that I realize he’s not wearing a condom.

He comes all over my tummy, his cock pulsing as it releases, and we both watch quietly.

I don’t need to say what we both know. There was no room in his consumed mind to think of protection when he pushed me into William’s office. He was thinking only of marking what’s his in the office of one of his nemeses.

Perverse? Yes. Do I care? No.

He slowly lowers his body over mine and pins me to the desk, seeking out that place on my neck he loves, nuzzling lovingly. “I’m sorry.”

The small smile that tickles my lips is probably as perverse as Miller’s unreasonable actions. “It’s…”

The slamming of a door resonates through the room, cutting me short, and Miller’s face slowly lifts from my neck until he’s staring down at me. The calculating smile that slowly graces that lovely mouth of his makes me bite my lip to prevent mirroring it.

Oh God help us!

“You arsehole.” William’s rich voice is loaded with venom. “You fucking immoral arsehole.”

My eyes widen as the enormity of our situation bashes past the sick satisfaction I’m feeling. Although Miller’s sly grin remains firmly in place. He dips and kisses me chastely. “It was a pleasure, sweet girl.” He lifts from my body, keeping his back to William to conceal me as he fastens his trousers. He smiles down at me, and I know it’s his way of saying not to worry. He pulls my knickers into place and arranges my dress, which is a good job because I’m arrested by anxiety, unable to make myself decent. Then he pulls me from the desk and steps to the side, exposing me to the potent anger pouring from William’s powerful frame.