“If you read your fucking email, you would have known.”
“You’re saying fuck a lot tonight, Delilah. Something on your mind?” He raised an eyebrow at me.
“Get your mind out of the fu—just get moving so we can leave, okay?”
He smirked at my slip, a look I’d become accustomed to because he loved to taunt me at every opportunity. I was surprised to watch his lips morph into a lazy smile, his tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip. My gaze zeroed in as it glided over those perfect lips. The man was sex on a stick, and he knew it.
I eyed him sideways, trying not to give myself away. Sometime earlier in the evening, he’d taken his suit jacket off, loosened his tie, popped open the top buttons of his shirt, and rolled up his sleeves. Why did he have to look that fucking good while sitting a few feet from me?
“With all the times you’ve said ‘fuck’ tonight, I think I know what you really want. What you need, Lila.”
“What is it that you think I need?” I was getting more pissed off, and, to my annoyance, aroused at the same time.
“Cock. You need a fucking hard cock in your tight little *.” He let out a ragged breath, eyes dilated.
My jaw dropped as I looked at him in disbelief. He was just playing with me, he had to be.
I quirked a brow at him, trying to portray calm and aloof, when inside I was tugging at my hair and fanning my face. “You’re an expert on what my * needs?”
His eyes darkened as they looked me over, his fingers flexing in what appeared to be agitation on his desk. “Yes, and it needs a cock to fuck it.”
“What makes you think this?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it wasn’t working. He was right, and his words were turning me on as much as the growing look of lust in his eyes.
“I can tell.”
“Well, fucking finish so I can go home and get off with my B.O.B. He might not be flesh and blood, but he gets the job done.”
His eyes darkened and I knew the vision of me pushing a vibrator in and out of my * was playing in his mind.
A moment later, there was no desk between us. In a split second, we’d gone from arguing, to his body pushing mine against the wall. His hands pinned my arms to the hard surface, a shuddered breath leaving his chest.
I licked my lips, my body lighting up at his aggressive display. My body was on fire. I couldn’t think; speak. How was he doing it to me?
He leaned in, his face next to mine, lips tracing the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Does that turn you on?”
I resisted the urge to turn my head and find his lips. I wanted to feel them against mine, to taste him. There were many ways I wanted to taste him, but that was the first. My body betrayed my need, bowing into his.
“My, aren’t you a naughty girl, panting for it. Tell me, Delilah, are you a dirty whore that likes to be fucked?”
He was a dirty-talker—I was screwed. I’d always fantasized about being with a dirty-talking man, and now I had one pressed up against me.
His voice was deeper, somewhat rough, making my desire for him grow. It was useless resisting – I wanted him. By his display, I had a feeling he could bring me the pleasure I’d never found with anyone else.
His hips rocked forward, pushing his hard cock into my stomach. My breath caught in my throat, cutting off my words, as my entire body ached for him.
“Answer me.” He pulled my arms above my head. “Are you a dirty whore that likes to be fucked?”
I sucked in a ragged breath before whispering, “Yes.”
A victorious smile broke out on his face before his lips crashed to mine, his hands released me then, wrapped around my body. It wasn’t gentle or sweet. It was passionate, needy, and full of bite. His teeth grabbed my bottom lip, pulling it then diving back in for another bruising kiss. My hands moved into his hair, tugging at his light brown locks. He growled, and I almost came from the sound.
Fulfilling my unspoken words, Nathan’s hand moved down to my waist, his fingers kneading the flesh beneath. They relaxed a bit, almost unsure.