“What are you doing?” So gravelly. Yum.
“Looking for your boxers.” She spotted them at the edge of the bed and with a quick flick, shoved them under and continued her quest. Keeping her chin close to the soft shag carpet shot her ass higher in the air.
Another guttural noise sounded behind her. She had to admit an increasing affection for her growly boss.
“Now, where are they, I wonder?”
“Get back here. I’m not finished with you.”
She looked back over her shoulder and almost licked her lips at the sight of him lying there, all coiled-up tension and jutting cock, now covered with a condom. Fast mover, this one. “Oh, but you already finished in the shower. In my experience, a man’s power of recovery is never that good, especially when they’re older. What are you? Thirty? We can try again later when your dick’s had a rest.”
“Emma,” he gritted out. “Get that sweet ass of yours over here now.”
She wiggled said sweet ass. “I’ve already come twice today, boss. Quite satisfied, thanks.” She returned to her search. The feel of his eyes on her, the sensuous weight of his gaze, was making her wet all over again. God, how? Needing him to see how she shone for him, she gave a quick tug at the front of the tee and dragged it over the swell of her ass, exposing the still sensitive flesh he had sucked on moments before. It bloomed under his carnal gaze.
“I wonder where they ended up—”
Two massive hands planted on her hips—somehow he’d used jaguar-like reflexes to cover the distance between them—and dragged her back against his magnificent hardness.
“Does this feel like it needs a rest?” He moved his thick length along the cleft of her ass and down through the slick, hot folds that needed him inside her now.
“I’ve had…harder.”
Another lascivious rub had her biting down hard on her lip. Against the valley of her ass, his cock appeared to be turning even more rigid.
“Feel how much I want you, Emma?”
Reluctantly, she pulled away. He dragged her back, his fingers moving over her dragonflies tattoo. They lingered there, and his murmur of “beautiful” shivered through her. That combination of soft reverent fingertips and hard irreverent cock conjured up a tangle of vulnerability and desire. Confusing as all hell.
“You feel it, baby?”
Wantonly, she swirled against him, rubbing her wetness against that thick cock head, letting him know how much she needed it. Craved it. But still, she sensed him holding back. He was rich, handsome, successful. He could have any woman he wanted, yet he chose to live like a monk in this penthouse fortress. Ascetic, suppressed, Spartan with his desires. He needed to be turned on in a way he hadn’t been before.
He needed to lose his shit with her.
“I—I want… I want you to take it, Brody. Take everything you need.”
On a loud groan, he sank into her, filling her about halfway before stopping. Hell, he was big. So huge, and she had never felt so consumed.
“Need. More.” She squeezed her muscles around his enormous girth, inviting him into her body. Demanding he take what was his.
“Emma, not yet,” he rasped. “I won’t f*ck
ing last.”
Oh, I know. She did it again. Wiggled her ass and sank her fingers into the shag. With her forehead touching the floor, she arched her back, stealing inches of pleasure, each more exciting than the last, as she pushed back onto his cock.
He dug his fingers into her hip bones. “You. Will. Wait.”
“Or what, Brody?” she moaned, the words muffled against the floor. “Worried you might lose it, baby?”
She compressed her muscles again, grasping his thick shaft. It pulsed inside her, a raging beast snarling at a cage.
“f*ck
, Emma, don’t test me.” He resumed thrusting on his terms, each one a harder slam than the last, each one sucking filthy moans from her. His mastery over her body and his emotions thrilled her and pissed her off equally.
She would strip him bare if it was the last thing she did.
“Harder, Brody. Oh God, please. Take my orgasm. Take what’s yours.”