Page 19 of The Billionaire's Desire

He looked down at me, his tongue darting over his bottom lip. “You know how sexy it was watching you march in here, expressing yourself? Going to bat for someone, damn the fallout?”

I smiled as I reached down, gripping the curve of his arousal. “I think I have an idea.”

Lust heated his gaze before he nodded at the door.

I walked briskly to it, engaging the lock. “Can we--?”

He peeled off his jacket, rolling up his sleeves. “We can...and we will.”

****

My back was against his chest. I could feel him breathe me, his heart racing even though his voice was calm. Sultry.

"You have no idea how sexy it was to see you take charge. Speak out for your client."

I drew an unsteady breath as I felt his fingers unbuttoning the front of my blouse. There was no urgency in his movements. Always the picture of calm, the Dom in charge. I couldn't say the same for myself. I'd passed calm when I saw that look in his eyes--that look of carnal need. That special spark where I knew we were throwing the employee handbook and decorum out the window. This wasn't an office, with rules and regulations. This was our space. A room made up of all the ways he could have me. Up against the wall. Pressed against the floor to ceiling windows. On the chaise. On the floor.

All of the above.

I looked down, not believing there was still several buttons to go. I was dying for him to just rip it from my body. Send the buttons flying and push me back onto the desk. I didn't even care that I'd have to hold it together with a prayer after we were done. I didn't care about anything except his body and my body, colliding until we were both too spent to notice that we weren't the only two people on the planet.

His eyes blazed downward, stopping at my feet. "And you in those shoes--"

I let out a hot, nervous giggle at that, remembering the associate telling me they said 'take me now' but the crystal accents tacked on a throaty 'please'. I hadn't been sure about them...me and heels just didn't mix.

And then I put them on.

I didn't really believe in the whole item of clothing or even a pair of shoes having the ability to change your life, but when I stood in front of that mirror, something clicked. The way they made my legs go on forever, the way they hugged and accentuated; these shoes were foreplay. And even though I'd cursed having to wear something so dressy since I couldn’t find my more conservative pair this morning, I knew it was serendipity.

I felt like the most desirable woman alive.

My shirt hung open in the front, goose bumps spreading across my fevered flesh when he pressed his palm against my abdomen.

"You're so beautiful, Leila," he murmured. "The most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"It's for you," I whispered softly, trembling slightly when he swept my hair to one side, dark curls spilling over one shoulder. I turned around slowly, facing him full-on. I saw myself reflected in his crystal eyes. My wild, unruly hair, the curves of me, my sun kissed skin. I saw what he'd been seeing all along. What he wanted for the rest of his days.

He pressed a sizzling kiss against my cool flesh, heating it until my temperature rose to meet the warmth in my belly.

"Don't give me all the credit." he said, still taking me in. "You walked in here like a woman in charge."

Since that was his role, I almost worried this was some segue into reminding me of his place, of my place, but he just stepped forward, gripping my hair and exposing the nape of my neck. He rained kisses up and down the sensitive skin, his other hand dropping to my skirt. That wasn't nearly as torturous as the shirt. He expertly unhooked the clasp and pulled the zipper down until it slumped at my feet.

Lust heated his gaze as he held out his hand, helping me step out of the circle of fabric. I gripped him, moving to take off the heels, but he stopped me, his voice a whip that snapped my gaze back to his.

"No. I want those to stay on. The heels--and nothing else."

Every part of me tingled, the lure of what was to come making my heart skip a beat. My fingers rattled so nervously that I was surprised I maintained my grip on anything long enough to unhook my bra.

His eyes were locked on my chest and when I saw them flicker, his tongue sweeping across his bottom lip, I let my eyes drop to his crotch. The perfectly tailored cut of his pants teased under the most unassuming circumstances and now…nothing was left to the imagination. I almost stepped forward, reaching, wanting to free it since it was obviously fighting and pushing against the seams.

He cleared his throat and I stopped short.

"Don't mistake my desire for something else."

He was reprimanding me. And it was making me very, very wet.

I blinked at him coyly, fluttering my eyelashes as I released my hold on the lacy number, bra fluttering to the floor. My panties followed suit as I shimmied them over my hips, then bent at the waist to pull them off the rest of the way.

---