Hot Asset (21 Wall Street #1)(55)

He brushes a kiss on my cheek. “Swear to God, woman, I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you. I’ve been waiting for it to pass, but something about you’s got me wrapped around your sexy little finger.”

“So it hasn’t passed?” I ask, setting my hand on the center of his chest, watching as I spread my fingers wide.

He takes my hand and gently lowers it until it’s resting against the unmistakable bulge in his slacks. “Definitely not.”

I move my hand slightly, stroking him.

He squeezes his eyes shut. “Lara.”

Emboldened by the huskiness of his voice, I unfasten his pants, and the rasp of the zipper as I pull it down electrifies the moment.

Sitting up, I wiggle out of my jeans before returning my attention to him, easing both pants and black briefs over his hips and down his legs, until I see Ian Bradley as he was meant to be . . .

Utterly naked and utterly mine.

Ian props himself up on his elbows, watching me with hot eyes as I run my hands over his perfect body.

I lick my lips. “I’m so out of my league.”

His gaze drops to my chest. “Not from where I’m sitting.”

Feeling bolder than I ever have in my life, I slowly wrap my fingers around him. The velvety steel leaps against my hand.

Ian’s head drops back down onto the pillow, and the way he growls my name in needy desperation causes a relentless throbbing between my legs.

I caress him tentatively, then more surely as his groans urge me on.

Until this moment—until him—I had no idea that pleasuring someone else was the most potent form of foreplay . . . for me.

Addicted to the feeling, I shift slightly so I’m on my knees. Then I bend and touch my lips to his straining erection.

“God. Lara.” His hand tentatively touches my hair.

I open my mouth and take him in. He tastes salty-sweet, and this time there’s nothing tentative about the way he touches me. His fingers tangle in my hair now, holding it back as he unabashedly watches me suck him.

I alternate between fast and slow, teasing and sure, listening to his pants to learn what he likes.

My eyes fly open as I feel his free hand skim down the length of my back, over my hip and butt. Then I moan around him as his hand nudges my thighs apart, and he works his way beneath the lace of my thong. His fingers slide over me, in me, fingering me with such torturous skill that it takes every bit of focus to keep doing what I’m doing.

It’s a wicked battle of wills, his fingers teasing me senseless, getting me close but never letting me go over the edge. I return the favor, finding the exact rhythm that makes his hips buck, only to ease back at the last minute.

Neither of us wins. Or maybe we both do, when Ian pulls me up and rolls me to my back.

His mouth captures mine, kissing me deep as his body pins mine to the bed.

I arch, and we both freeze when his cock nudges against the damp V of my underwear.

He gives me one last kiss before pulling away and opening the nightstand drawer. Ian tears the foil packet with his teeth and rolls on the condom. Then he eases my thong down my legs and tosses it to the ground.

His gaze drops between my thighs as he parts them. “Later,” he says quietly, “I’m going to lick you here.” He runs a single finger down my wet seam, and I cry out, both from the touch and his words. “But right now,” he continues, slowly resting a palm on each side of my head as he raises himself above me. “Right now, I need to be inside you.”

Ian eases forward slightly, his expression pure concentration as he watches my face. I’m tight and he’s big, but the friction is delicious.

He’s breathing hard as he withdraws, then pushes back in slowly. He’s the picture of restraint, clearly trying to take his time, for me, for us. To make it last.

There will be time for that later. Right now, I don’t want to be teased. I want to be taken.

Greedy, I reach down and cup his butt, urging him forward. “Hard.”

He looks in my eyes first, making sure. Then he gives it to me. His hips drill into me hard, and I arch to take him in, my body providing soft give to his hard strength.

Can you die from pleasure? If you can, this is the way I want to go, with Ian pounding inside me, his hips circling with every thrust to rub in exactly the right place until I’m aching, needing . . .

“Come,” he says when my vision starts to go blurry with passion. He nips my breast with his lips. “Come for me, Lara, just like this.”

I cry out, arching my back, and he meets me there, his body jerking as he lets go with a low groan.

I’ve always thought orgasms were orgasms. Always good.

Wrong.

Sometimes they’re so blisteringly good you’re both terrified it’ll never end and terrified that it will.

Ian drops beside me, still breathing hard, and I muster the energy to roll toward him.

He turns his head slightly, pressing an absent kiss to my forehead before gathering me close. “Well.”

I smile. “Well.”

Ian shifts to look down at me, his fingers finding a lock of my hair and stroking it with his thumb. “You never did answer my question.”

“Which one?”

“Worst lay you’ve ever had.”

I bite my bottom lip. “Oh. Gosh. I had a different answer before, but . . . wow, this is awkward. I feel like I should at least let you get dressed before I answer. You know, to save your pride.”