Chapter 4
KEENAN
It took all of Keenan’s self control not to maul Carol on the spot and rip her clothing right off of her.
His lust for her was like nothing he had ever felt.
And to his astonishment, she seemed every bit as attracted to him.
It wasn’t just that she wasn’t afraid of him, she was actually into him, and she didn’t flinch at his kiss or hesitate to touch his rough skin.
She was the one tugging at his shirt, dragging them onto the desk as she wrapped one leg up around him.
There was no way that she could doubt his interest, rubbing against his swollen cock.
The desk gave an ominous creak as he planted one hand on it and used the other to grab her by the waist and pull her closer. Keenan caught her up as the poorly-attached work surface threatened to pull away from the cubicle walls and collapse.
He pivoted to set her down in the chair, which fit her like a throne, but left no room for any of the things he wanted to do to her. He pulled her right up again to press her up against one of the cubicle walls and a OSHA poster behind her about hygiene crumpled as a thumbtack pulled out.
It was clear that the cubicle was not going to be a comfortable place for this.
“There’s a break room,” Carol gasped.
“Does the door lock?” Keenan asked hopefully. A counter was more likely to be sturdy enough than a desk.
“No.” Carol grinned at him. “But it has a couch.”
Keenan growled and bent just far enough that he could scoop Carol up into his arms.
She sucked her breath in sharply. “Are you…sure you can…?”
She was no lightweight, but she was barely a burden to Keenan, and for once, he was grateful for his size and strength, because cradling her in his arms was more than just sexy—and it was plenty sexy! It was like bringing her home.
She belonged in his arms, and it wasn’t just the undeniable attraction he felt for her, or even the appealing curves of her.
It was like he’d just stepped into a childhood home full of festive holiday smells and sounds, like she was the most comfortable, perfect, natural match for him.
She was cinnamon and warm cookies, spruce bough wreaths and chiming Christmas bells.
It was like drinking spiced cider to kiss her.
He started to carry her out, turning the wrong direction at first, and she giggled and directed him through the maze of cubicles for the break room in the middle of the building.
The raucous sounds of the Christmas party were louder here, closer to the conference rooms where more traditional celebration was happening, but the noise went away completely when Keenan pulled the door shut behind them.
Carol slid down his whole body when he went to put her down on her feet, and they stood there for an aching moment while Keenan wrestled his baser urges back. “Carol,” he said, not sure how to explain what he was feeling.
“Troll me,” she invited.
Keenan grinned, before habit made him cover the teeth that he could, but Carol tipped her face up for his kiss anyway, and didn’t close her eyes in horror at the sight of them.
Neither of them had flipped on the overhead, but there was a vending machine in the corner casting a gentle light through the room, and Carol herself was glowing slightly.
The promised couch looked too narrow for what Keenan intended, but Carol pulled herself away and wrenched the cushions to the floor. That would work, and Keenan realized that the idea that someone might walk in was an exciting sprinkle of danger to an already-sizzling…
What was this?
It didn’t feel like a one-time hookup to Keenan.
If felt like he’d been waiting for this woman, for this moment, for this place…
well, maybe not this place. Carol was contorting herself trying to reach the zipper of her red velvet dress, and Keenan caught her hands, holding them both in one of his while he found the tiny zipper pull.
It took all of his hardwon dexterity, complicated by Carol’s soft noises of need and the way she squirmed in his grip, to unzip her, and Keenan did it more slowly than strictly necessary.
It was in part to prove to himself that he was still capable of gentleness, and in part because, if the glow of her skin where he held her was an indication, she loved it.
And it was intoxicating to uncover her, to watch skin as it was slowly exposed between the slit of scarlet fabric.
First it was just her shoulders, pale and round, and then the curve of her back, broken by the line of her bra, and then the dimples at her waist, then the swell of her hips, promising the ass beneath.
The zipper caught and Keenan barely kept himself from ripping the rest off.
She turned lithely in his grip and the dress fell from her shoulders to expose the bra beneath.
It was utilitarian, a flesh-colored satin support garment that cupped her breasts and barely covered them, and Keenan sank to his knees so that he could kiss between them, catching Carol in both hands by the waist to a shower of sizzling sparks.
“Yes,” she cried, as he kissed her and licked her. She threw her head back in pleasure as he worshiped each in turn.
Then, to Keenan’s dismay, one tusk snagged the bra and got caught.
“Oh, er…” He was truly stuck, and Carol laughed, making the breasts in question bobble against him.
“Got you now, big guy!” she chortled, twining her fingers into his hair. “Mine forever.”
“I want to be yours forever,” Keenan wanted to say, but he had a tooth stuck in her undergarment, so it came out more like, “I aunt oo ee ores orver.”
Carol took pity on him and unclipped her bra from behind, lifting it off of her breasts and untwining it from Keenan’s traitor tooth.
If they had been magnificent in a bra, that was pale compared to what they were when freed. Carol was a goddess, and every part of her was generously built. Keenan cupped them each reverently.
“I am so hungry,” Carol hissed. Her dress was still pooled at her hips, and she reached around to find the zipper herself this time, slipping it down so that the skirt slid off the rest of the way.
If her dress was sexy, and her bra was pretty, her underwear was something else entirely.
“I didn’t exactly coordinate my wardrobe for doing this,” Carol said as she looked down in chagrin. Her cheeks flushed.
They were cheerful cotton, a bikini cut, and the fabric was printed all over with bright green frogs and golden crowns.
“Someday, your prince will come?” Keenan heard the words as he spoke them. “I mean, I don’t know if I’m a prince, but I do plan on coming…”