Chapter 7 #2
“It matters more than you know.” His forehead touches mine, creating intimacy that makes something ache deep inside me. “I’ve been wanting you since the moment you stood up to Richardson, and I’m tired of pretending otherwise.”
The confession breaks something inside me, releasing some last desperate grip on rational thought. Before I can talk myself out of it, I close the distance between our mouths and claim the kiss I’ve been denying myself for three days.
He responds instantly, moving his lips against mine with hunger that matches my own. This isn’t the careful exploration from Henri’s office but desperation and desire finally given permission to burn. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, requesting entry I grant without hesitation.
The taste of him floods my senses, making me moan against his mouth. He tangles his hand in my hair, angling my head for deeper access while he presses me more firmly against the window.
I should be concerned about the glass at my back, who might see us from the harbor below, and the boundaries I’m demolishing with every desperate kiss. Instead, I fist my hands in his shirt and pull him closer, needing more contact, more heat… More everything.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard, and I see my own desperation reflected in his gray eyes. “This is insane.”
He trails kisses along my jaw toward my ear. “Madness…”
“We should stop.” Even as I say it, I tilt my head to give him better access to my throat.
“Your safety depends on maintaining professional distance.” His teeth graze my earlobe, sending shivers through my entire body.
“Absolutely.” I arch into him, loving the way his breath hitches when our bodies align.
“This complicates everything we’re trying to accomplish.” It’s hard to tell if he’s reiterating my concerns or gently mocking me.
“Everything.” I pull his head down for another kiss, this one hungrier than the last.
His control finally snaps. With one fluid motion, he spins us from the window and lifts me onto the edge of his desk, scattering papers and sending his scotch glass skittering across the polished surface.
The documents flutter to the floor, but neither of us cares about anything except the fire building between us.
“Tell me to stop,” he says against my lips, even as he undoes the buttons of my blazer. “Tell me this is a mistake.”
“I can’t.” I help him with the buttons, desperate to feel his hands on my skin.
“I want this too much.” The admission seems to shatter his last restraint.
My blazer hits the floor, followed quickly by my conservative blouse.
When he finds the clasp of my bra, I arch into his touch with a sound that’s pure need.
“So beautiful.” His voice carries appreciation that makes my chest tight. “Even more than I imagined.”
“You imagined this?”
“Every night since I met you.” He captures one nipple between his lips, and the sensation sends lightning straight to my pussy. “I’ve been driving myself crazy thinking about how you’d taste, and how you’d sound when I made you come.”
The crude honesty makes my inner walls clench with want. I’ve never been with a man who talked like this, who made me feel desired and powerful and completely out of control all at once.
His mouth works magic on my breasts while he explores the rest of my body with his large, warm hands. When he reaches the hem of my skirt, he pauses to look up at me, silently asking permission for what comes next.
“Yes,” I whisper, past the point of pretending I want him to stop. “Please, yes.”
He pushes the fabric up my thighs, revealing the sensible panties that suddenly feel anything but practical under his heated gaze. He fingers the edge of the lace, so close to where I need him most but not quite touching. “Tell me what you want, Willa.”
“You know what I want.” The words come out breathless and desperate.
He gives me a crooked smile. “I want to hear you say it.”
Heat floods my cheeks, but the need coursing through me overpowers embarrassment. “Please, just touch me.”
He hooks his fingers in my panties and slides them down my legs before my skirt follows. When I’m bare before him, he takes a moment to look his fill, and the hunger in his expression makes me feel beautiful and wanted in ways I’ve never experienced.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, then drops to his knees between my spread thighs.
The first touch of his mouth against my slick, heated flesh makes me cry out. I grab handfuls of his dark hair as pleasure floods my system. He explores my slit thoroughly, learning what makes me gasp, what makes me arch against his desk, and what makes me whisper his name like a prayer.
When he finds the perfect rhythm and pressure, I’m climbing toward something incredible. The tension builds and builds until I’m trembling on the edge of release.
“Iskander, please?—”
“Let go,” he murmurs against my slick flesh before flicking his tongue across my clit. “Let me feel you come.”
His words combined with one final, devastating caress send me flying over the edge. The orgasm crashes through me with such intensity that I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming. He works me through it, gentle and relentless until I’m weak and gasping and utterly undone.
When the waves finally subside, he kisses his way back up my body, and I taste myself on his lips when he claims my mouth again. The intimacy of it makes me moan again.
“My turn,” I whisper against his lips as I sit up, reaching for his belt with shaking fingers.
“Willa—”
“I want to taste you too.” I work at his belt buckle with determination born of four years of celibacy and more than a week of wanting this specific man. “I want to make you feel as desperate as you just made me.”
His control fractures at my words. He helps me with his clothes, and when I see him fully aroused, my mouth waters with anticipation. His cock is magnificent, being thick and hard and perfect. It’s exactly what I need to fill the ache he’s created.
I slide off the desk and drop to my knees, appreciating the thick Persian rug that cushions me. When I take his shaft in my mouth, he grips the desk’s edge with white knuckles.
“Fuck,” he whispers, the curse rough and desperate. “Willa...”
I work him with lips and tongue, reveling in the sounds he makes, and the way his careful control splinters under my attention.
When I take him deeply enough to feel his cockhead at the back of my throat, he lets out a harsh groan that makes me press my thighs together as my pussy gets wet all over again.
He tangles a hand in my hair, not controlling but anchoring, like he needs the connection as much as I do. “You’re going to kill me.”
I pull back enough to look up at him, enjoying the way his eyes are dark with need. “Not yet. You deserve to suffer first.” I grin as I say that before swirling my tongue around the tip.
He laughs roughly, sounding strained. “I deserve worse than that.”
When I lean forward to take him again, he stops me with gentle hands. “Not like this. When I come, I want to be inside you.”
The words send fresh heat pooling between my thighs. He helps me to my feet and backs me against the desk again, kissing me like I’m everything he’s ever wanted. The desperation in his touch mirrors my own as I surrender to an attraction finally allowed to burn without restraint.
“Do you have protection?” I ask breathlessly.
He reaches into his desk drawer and produces a condom, which I take from him with hands that shake with anticipation.
“Let me.” I tear open the packet and roll the latex down his length, enjoying the way his breathing changes at my touch.
When I’m finished, he lifts me back onto the desk and positions himself between my thighs.
We lock gazes, and his is voice strained with the effort of holding back. “Are you sure about this? Once you’re mine?—”
Instead of letting him finish the warning, I answer without words by wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him closer. His cock enters my pussy slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size, and the sensation of being filled completely makes me gasp with pleasure and relief.
“Okay?” he asks, resting his forehead against mine.
“Perfect. Don’t stop.”
He begins to move, setting a rhythm that has me clinging to his shoulders and gasping his name. Every thrust hits exactly the right spot, building pleasure so intense it borders on overwhelming.
“You feel incredible,” he says before he groans against my ear. “So hot and perfect and tight enough it’s like you were made for me.”
The possessive words should alarm me, but they make my walls clench around his as another climax gets closer. “Harder,” I demand, past caring about anything except the fire building between us.
He responds immediately, driving into me with increased force that makes the desk creak ominously beneath us as he snaps his hips. The new angle sends sparks through my entire nervous system, and I rake my nails down his back as pleasure builds to an almost unbearable peak.
He slides his hand between us to find my clit, and the added stimulation sends me hurtling toward the edge.
The combination of his touch and the relentless rhythm of his body claiming mine shatters my control completely.
I come around him while crying his name, my inner muscles convulsing around his hard cock as pleasure wrecks me.
My release triggers his own. He buries his face in my neck as he follows me over the edge, his body going rigid as his cock spasms before he empties his seed with a muffled groan that vibrates against my skin.
We collapse together, breathing hard, and still joined while the world slowly comes back into focus.
Reality crashes back in stages. We just had sex on his desk in broad daylight, with his household staff somewhere in the house and security teams monitoring the grounds.
I’m supposed to be keeping my distance, not falling apart in his arms like a woman who’s been starving for his touch.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” I whisper against his shoulder, though I make no move to separate our bodies.
“Probably not.” He tightens his arms around me protectively. “Do you regret it?”
I consider lying to maintain some shred of dignity, but the truth slips out instead. This moment is too raw and momentous to ruin with lies. “No. I should, but I don’t.”
“Good.” He pulls back to look at me, his expression serious. “I meant what I said before. This changes things between us.”
“I know.” I touch his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “I’m not sure I’m ready for what it changes them to though. I don’t even know what that is exactly.”
“We’ll figure it out.” He captures my hand and presses a kiss to my palm.
The promise in his voice makes my chest constrict.
I want to believe him and trust this incredible man who just worshipped my body can keep me safe from the dangers circling closer, but I’ve been jaded by a life full of disappointments.
There are few people I really trust. Right now, that’s down to Harper, and I want to try to trust him completely, but I’m nowhere near that point yet.
Still, despite the fear and uncertainty, I look forward to discovering if he deserves my trust, even as I brace myself for the far more likely outcome of a broken heart. I don’t trust easily, but if he proves himself trustworthy, I’ll stick with him through anything.