fingertips into the pliable flesh of my thighs leaving brief tingles and pressure shocks that deepens the pool of desire between my legs. He lifts me up onto the desk.
Roaming my hands voraciously over his upper body as our lips meet again I release a low, feral groan into his mouth. Desperation floods through my veins, heating my raging blood and firing my nerve endings. Besieged with urgency, my nails dig into his flesh as I clutch at his defined, muscular biceps and his broad shoulders while he occupies the space between my thighs. My lips are swollen and sensitive from the abrading of his stubble. When we pull away, we are both breathless.
I snare his face with both of my hands, before pushing back his floppy lock that hangs over the side of his brow like a chocolate curl. I search his dark, dangerously alluring, hypnotic eyes as his hands linger on my thighs. My, God he is the most gorgeous man I have ever laid eyes on . And he wants me. I never thought it possible that such a successful, sophisticated man would want me in this way––men that drink their own body weight in nightclubs night after night, and that grind up against you as if they are trying to reach an inaccessible spot inside you, then yes, I have had many––but San Francisco’s most renowned lawyer feels this way toward me? I’m shell-shocked. For a fleeting moment, it is I that is under his spell.
My expression softens as I feel something tugging at me internally, like a foreign force trying to annihilate its way through the toughest of steel. Before I can stop myself, I graze my thumb over his lips with profound tenderness, and I feel my regard for him reach an unfamiliar level.
Loosening his blood red, woven tie, I pull it free from the collar of his white linen shirt, before carefully beginning to tackle his buttons. He gapes down at my fingers, watching attentively as I pull free each button. All I want is to grasp each side and pull the material apart and allow the buttons to scatter across the hardwood flooring, but for some unknown reason my compulsions are quelled by my want to savor the experience of undressing my boss; my exceptionally sexy, boss.
I gasp as I pull open his shirt and gape raptly at his appealing, smooth torso.
Wow …
A silver chain with a solid silver cross hangs around his neck. The sight of his tanned flesh and the dark brown hue of his nipples send me into overdrive. With my heart relentlessly assaulting my ribcage, the muscles within my body constricts and quakes. It’s Christmas and birthdays rolled into one.
“Oh, my…” I breathe instinctively and I sense rather than see his answering grin.
I press my hands against his defined pectorals, flexing my fingers, allowing the tips of my nails to graze along his flesh. I feel his body heating under my touch and he sucks in a deep breath, lulling his frustrating need to find instant release. I skim over each disc of his nipples at a languid pace and they instantly strain beneath my touch before I continue with my expedition of his beautiful, exquisitely carved body. My fingers dip over the warm, smooth flesh that covers each firm bulge of his abdominal muscles, sinking and bobbing between each valley before ascending the next, like a raft waving along the rapids.
His hands remain stationed upon my thighs, but I feel the stirring of his fingers as he squeezes gently, tracing diminutive circles as he rises higher and higher to his goal. I reciprocate and trace around his navel with a delicate touch. He tenses as my nails skim his surface before gliding along the edge of his pants that rests securely on his hips.
I peek up shrewdly as I acquaint my hands with the sensuousness of his body. His eyes are penetrative and he’s clamping his teeth down onto his lower lip. I never realized how Goddamn sexy a man biting his lip can be, how this single indication of his pleasure liquefies my insides.
I push each side of his shirt over his well-defined shoulders and
Roaming my hands voraciously over his upper body as our lips meet again I release a low, feral groan into his mouth. Desperation floods through my veins, heating my raging blood and firing my nerve endings. Besieged with urgency, my nails dig into his flesh as I clutch at his defined, muscular biceps and his broad shoulders while he occupies the space between my thighs. My lips are swollen and sensitive from the abrading of his stubble. When we pull away, we are both breathless.
I snare his face with both of my hands, before pushing back his floppy lock that hangs over the side of his brow like a chocolate curl. I search his dark, dangerously alluring, hypnotic eyes as his hands linger on my thighs. My, God he is the most gorgeous man I have ever laid eyes on . And he wants me. I never thought it possible that such a successful, sophisticated man would want me in this way––men that drink their own body weight in nightclubs night after night, and that grind up against you as if they are trying to reach an inaccessible spot inside you, then yes, I have had many––but San Francisco’s most renowned lawyer feels this way toward me? I’m shell-shocked. For a fleeting moment, it is I that is under his spell.
My expression softens as I feel something tugging at me internally, like a foreign force trying to annihilate its way through the toughest of steel. Before I can stop myself, I graze my thumb over his lips with profound tenderness, and I feel my regard for him reach an unfamiliar level.
Loosening his blood red, woven tie, I pull it free from the collar of his white linen shirt, before carefully beginning to tackle his buttons. He gapes down at my fingers, watching attentively as I pull free each button. All I want is to grasp each side and pull the material apart and allow the buttons to scatter across the hardwood flooring, but for some unknown reason my compulsions are quelled by my want to savor the experience of undressing my boss; my exceptionally sexy, boss.
I gasp as I pull open his shirt and gape raptly at his appealing, smooth torso.
Wow …
A silver chain with a solid silver cross hangs around his neck. The sight of his tanned flesh and the dark brown hue of his nipples send me into overdrive. With my heart relentlessly assaulting my ribcage, the muscles within my body constricts and quakes. It’s Christmas and birthdays rolled into one.
“Oh, my…” I breathe instinctively and I sense rather than see his answering grin.
I press my hands against his defined pectorals, flexing my fingers, allowing the tips of my nails to graze along his flesh. I feel his body heating under my touch and he sucks in a deep breath, lulling his frustrating need to find instant release. I skim over each disc of his nipples at a languid pace and they instantly strain beneath my touch before I continue with my expedition of his beautiful, exquisitely carved body. My fingers dip over the warm, smooth flesh that covers each firm bulge of his abdominal muscles, sinking and bobbing between each valley before ascending the next, like a raft waving along the rapids.
His hands remain stationed upon my thighs, but I feel the stirring of his fingers as he squeezes gently, tracing diminutive circles as he rises higher and higher to his goal. I reciprocate and trace around his navel with a delicate touch. He tenses as my nails skim his surface before gliding along the edge of his pants that rests securely on his hips.
I peek up shrewdly as I acquaint my hands with the sensuousness of his body. His eyes are penetrative and he’s clamping his teeth down onto his lower lip. I never realized how Goddamn sexy a man biting his lip can be, how this single indication of his pleasure liquefies my insides.
I push each side of his shirt over his well-defined shoulders and
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