Beauty and the Boss (Modern Fairytales #1)(13)
He nibbled on her ear gently this time.
“G-Good. But we need to lay out rules, and times where I have to be seen with you, and—” He bit her ear a little harder, then sucked on it to ease the sting. She even tasted sweet there. Like cotton candy, but more addictive. And he f*cking loved that fluffy, sugary shit. “Benjamin.”
Releasing the lobe he’d bitten, he kissed the side of her neck again, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin there. He was coming on strong, but she kept making sexy little sounds every time he touched her, and he couldn’t help it. “Was that too much?”
Her resistance faded with each brush of his lips on her soft skin, and the undisputable attraction between them was drawn so tightly it should snap. “Um, maybe…”
“I’m sorry.” He brushed his lips across hers again, ever so slightly, lingering this time. “Just practicing.”
“Yeah. Sure.” She moaned and grabbed hold of him, swaying closer. “Practice.”
Another almost-kiss had frustration boiling inside him because she hadn’t showed nearly as much desire for him as he had for her. He didn’t like wanting someone so strongly in the first place, but he’d be damned if it was one-sided. “Maggie—”
“Enough.” She threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged hard, finally seeming to break. “Kiss me.”
I thought you’d never ask.
He closed the tiny distance between them, their lips melding together on one jointly exhaled breath. She melted against him instantly, her soft body curving perfectly into his. She fit against him as if she was made for him alone, and he had the sinking suspicion that she was. And that terrified him. He swallowed the impending sense of doom creeping up his spine, hauled her even closer, and deepened the kiss.
Again, she opened for him, and he kissed her like a starving man. Never had he had something as sweet, or addictive, as Maggie Donovan. Pretending to love her would be a pleasure if it meant he got to kiss her. Hold her. Touch her.
Make her scream out his name.
Backing her against the wall, he gave her a second to push him away. When she didn’t, he explored her body fully. She was all softness and curves, easily the most perfect combination of hotness he’d ever had in his arms. Instead of the toned, almost boyish frame of most of the women he’d dated, she was all curves, swells, and lean legs.
All woman.
Closing his palms over her large breasts, he ran his thumbs over her hard, perky nipples, cursing the clothing that stood in his way. At the slight pressure, she gasped and pressed against him wantonly. Her pencil skirt was in the way so he lifted it, inch by inch, so he could press his knee against her core. She gasped and dug her nails into his forearms, rotating her hips in a circle.
Her hands drifted up his arms, clinging to his biceps. A small, breathy moan escaped her. He swallowed her sounds of pleasure and increased the pressure of his knee, gaining a small cry from her lips. Her entire body tensed, and she moved against him, almost pushing away, but then pulling him closer instead. She rode his leg with a wildness he’d never seen before.
It made him even hotter to have her, naked, in his bed.
To make her his for real.
She rubbed herself against him frantically, her tongue swirling over his, and bam. She came, her whole body freezing as a tiny little whimper escaped, long and drawn out until it ended in a sigh. He could have kept going. Could have bent her over, and f*cked her until she’d forgotten all about ever wanting to keep their relationship professional. But that wouldn’t be fair. So, despite every single muscle in his body screaming for him to finish what he’d started, he let go of her and backed off.
Gave her room to breathe.
“Holy crap.” She collapsed against the wall. “I never…I mean… Oh my God.”
Smoothing her hair off her face and away from her swollen lips, he locked eyes with her. He shifted his position, trying to ease the throbbing insistence of his aching cock. She might have gotten more than a kiss, but he hadn’t, and his body was all too aware of that fact. “Maggie…”
She licked her lips and shrugged off his hold, and he watched the wet path her tongue left behind, unable to glance away. “I need…I need a minute.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Pushing away from the wall, and her, he forced his expression into a cool, calm, collected mask. He had a hell of a lot of practice at doing so, but still it was harder than normal, which probably wasn’t a good sign of things to come. “We should discuss rules and plans.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear with a shaking hand and walked toward the door on trembling legs. She stumbled and he reached out to steady her, but she caught herself on the edge of his desk. “Yes, we should, but not now. I-I need to go.”
“Okay.” So he kissed her, and she bolted. His earlier suspicions had been confirmed—she was a runner. He’d scared her. Shaken her. Well, she’d shaken him, too. So they were even. “Meet me for dinner tomorrow? So we can discuss everything in detail?”
She froze in the doorway. “Where?”
“Macaluso’s. Eight.”
She hesitated, but nodded. “See you there.”
He watched her leave, an emptiness taking hold of the pit of his stomach as she walked away from him, but it wasn’t strong enough to dispel the satisfaction of having a plan in place. One that would secure his position, once and for all—while giving him an excuse to kiss Maggie.