Page 90 of Fire in You

Dropping down to my knees in front of him, I placed my hands on either side of his knees and spread them apart. His ragged inhale was like a shot of thunder as I slid my hands along the inside of his thighs, and I took a deep breath. I cupped him through the pants. He was hot and hard, straining the thin material.

“Fuck,” he groaned. His hands dropped to the arms of the chair, and when I peeked up, I saw he was white-knuckling it. He breathed heavy as I lifted my gaze to his, wondering if he’d stop me. “I’m all yours,” he gritted out.

The statement excited me beyond belief, but knowing thatmy touchwas doing this to him, setting his jaw in a hard line and making his chest rise and fall powerfully thrilled me.

Lowering my gaze, I stroked him through his pants, reveling when he let out another rough sound. A strange and wonderful warm haze invaded me as I reached for the band. My hand shook as I tugged on his pants.

Brock rose, aiding me along as I inched his pants and the tight, black briefs down, exposing the rather impressive length.

Holy wow . . .

He was thick and long and perfect, and I . . .Iwanted to tastehim.

“You keep staring at me like that, this will be over before we even get started.”

The right side of my mouth curved up. “We . . . we wouldn’t want that, would we?” I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock. He kicked against my palm, burning hot and smooth like silk over steel.

His head fell back and his hips punched into my grasp. I moved my hand, slowly dragging it up and the back down. Awed and fascinated, I felt him from the base to the gleaming tip. He breathed heavily and ground out my name, “Jillian.” Tiny hairs all over my body raised as a far-off part of me never foresaw this, never could imagine that I’d be on my knees in an office, about to do what I was getting ready to.

Stretching up a few inches, I lowered my mouth, closing my lips around the tip. The salty taste of him teased my tongue. Hoping I was doing this right, I moved my hand as I brought him deeper into my mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, hips flexing as I swirled my tongue along the broad head of his cock. “Jillian, I . . .” He seemed to lose track of what he was saying, because he swore again and his large, powerful body tightened.

I dragged my hand and tongue all the way to the tip and then I lifted my mouth. “Am I . . . am I doing it right?”

His midnight eyes were blazing. “You couldn’t do it wrong, Jillian. There is no way you could do this in a way I wouldn’t love it.” My lips curved into a smile, and he throbbed in my hand. “Christ. You holding my dick, sitting there and smiling up at me without worrying about it, is going to kill me.”

Heart thumping, I let instinct take over. His hips jerked again as my mouth closed over him once more. Heat swamped me, and I ached as if he was doing this to me, and the arousal heightened when I felt his hand close around the back of my head, his fingers curling through my hair.

His grip tightened and a prick of heat coursed over my scalp, dragging a moan out of me that reverberated through him. His hand stilled. “You liked that?”

“Mmm,” I murmured, realizing that I did like that little bite of pain.

“I’m going . . . to have to remember that,” he said.

The illicit promise spurred me on, and his hips powered up. Brock shook as he gripped the nape of my neck, trying to pull me off or hold me there, I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t going anywhere. His entire body tensed around me and I heard the harsh punch of air coming out of him seconds before he pulsed into my mouth. When he finished, my jaw ached a little, but it was worth it. I kissed the blunt tip and then carefully let him go. Grabbing his pants and briefs, I inched them back up until he was covered.

Then I lifted my gaze to him.

His eyes were half-closed and his striking features completely lax. A long moment passed and I realized it was the first time I’d seen him like this in a long, long time, and he looked so beautiful, so at rest.

Then those eyes opened, and Brock moved wicked fast. One minute he was standing and the next, he towered over me, a hand at the back of my head and his mouth on me.

Brock kissed me deeply, branding my lips and scorching my senses, and then pulled me to his chest, folding his strong arms around me. “Now that is how I want to end every work day.”

“Every?”

“Every.”

* * *

Three hours and twenty-two minutes after I’d left Brock’s office, it sort of sunk in that I’d given Brock, who was really my boss, a blow job, on my knees, in his office . . .

Of what was technically my father’s business.

Holy shit.

I’d gone—God, how long? With the exception of that Friday night, three years with only mechanical action, and I literally went from zero to porn star status in like forty-eight hours. That was crazy.

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