The VIP Room(172)

“Marcus—oh, God—” She bucked against his hand, needing to feel him deeper. He seemed to read her mind, and thrust up, hard and fast. She let go of the bench and dug her fingers into his shoulders, doing something she never thought she’d do—she watched him as he stroked her. Seeing his fingers, wet from her, slide in and out, was so incredibly arousing. She wanted—she wanted it to be his cock, deep inside her, filling her, hot and throbbing. “Marcus—”

He moved faster and her head dropped back, her body tightening around his fingers. God, she was so close.

“Look at me, Leah.” His deep voice was raw, and rougher than she’d ever heard it. “I want to see you fall apart.”

She throbbed, the pressure coiling, hot and tight. If he touched her clit she was done for. Again, he read her mind, and his thumb rubbed over her clit.

“Marcus—yes—oh, God—”

She shuddered, thrusting against his hand as she started to climax. He pressed deep, curled his fingers up inside her and she exploded.

Marcus spread his hand across her back and kept stroking her. He stretched her pleasure out, his fingers driving into her, his breath hot on her skin as he watched his hand work her. Slowly, she came down, her body still twitching, his fingers still inside her, like he couldn’t stand the thought of letting her go.

“Leah.” He kissed her, the hand on her back shaking as he caressed her bare skin. “You were beautiful. God help me—you are so beautiful.”

His ragged voice had her already pounding heart slamming against her ribs.





* * *



He wanted her.

God protect him—he wanted to pull out the fingers still inside her, replace them with his hard, throbbing cock, bury himself to the hilt, feel her tight body clench around him.

He had been hard as a rock since she opened the door to her apartment and stood there, all soft, touchable skin, that blue velvet gown hugging her figure, and displaying her firm, spectacular breasts. He wanted to kiss every inch of her, starting with those breasts.

She was so different from the buttoned up, sensible woman who scheduled his appointments and made sure he didn’t starve when he was caught up in a project.

Hell, she was different from any woman he’d ever met. Marcus had wanted to see what was hiding under her boxy suits for months now, and damn, she did not disappoint. Every luscious, curvy inch made his mouth water. And that waist—it had surprised him when his hands caught her in his office, and kept going in, until he circled that tiny, impossible waist.

He kissed her instead, her lips as soft and sensual as he suspected, his fingers still stroking her at the same pace his tongue ravaged her mouth. She kept moaning, quiet, devastating moans that drove right into his cock. When she tightened around his fingers, ready to come apart again, he couldn’t stand it another second.

“Leah.” He whispered against her lips, hoping his voice didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. “Can you stand, gorgeous?”

Her eyes opened, the clear blue depths hazy with passion. God—it only made him throb harder.

“I think so.” Her voice turned him on in a way he couldn’t explain.

He freed her lips and wrapped his arm around her waist. Her moan joined his as he eased his fingers out of her. “Only for a minute, sweetheart.”

“What…” When he turned her around and sat on the bench behind her, she flashed him a smile over her bare shoulder. “Oh.”

Marcus barely had the control to shove her skirt up before he jerked her back and down on his lap. The feel of her against his erection had him rocking up, needing the friction, the connection with her. His hand slipped around and spread over her belly. She covered it with hers, and rubbed over his crotch.

“Leah—”

She shocked the hell out of him by pulling free, then she turned around and straddled him. Her hand closed over his erection, and she stroked him through the too tight crotch of his trousers. His cock jerked under her fingers, wanting to be free.

“Let me touch you, Marcus.”

He didn’t have the strength to say no. Leah kept her gaze on him as she popped the button on his trousers, then slid the zipper open. His cock jumped to attention, only the silk of his boxers containing it. He almost bolted off the bench when she slipped her hand inside his boxers and closed her fingers around him.

“Leah.” He swallowed, and spoke while he still had blood in his brain. “You don’t need to—”

“Reciprocate? I believe I do. I want to watch you fall apart, Marcus Hawkins. I want it to happen while I stroke you, touching every inch of this beautiful cock.”

He nearly lost it right there. What happened to his timid assistant? This woman, still flushed from her orgasm, had just taken charge, holding him like she meant business.

She let go of him, slid off his lap and knelt next to him on the bench. Her body blocked any stray guest from seeing exactly what she was doing to him. Before he could miss her touch she had her hand on him again.

“I don’t want anything to get on this incredible gown. Did I thank you for it yet? Let me do that now.”

He clutched the edge of the bench as her hand tightened around him and slid to the base of his cock. With slow, long strokes, she worked him. His hips arched off the bench when her finger traced around his tip. He couldn’t stop himself—he started thrusting against her hand. He’d been so aroused for so long, he knew it wouldn’t take much for him to explode.