Page 51 of Her Impossible Boss's Baby

Now she wanted his feelings.

She was entirely and utterly inconsistent. But more than that, she was radiant. More than that, he wanted her.

So she wanted feeling. She was going to get his feeling.

He crossed the space, and wrapped his arm around her waist. And before she could say anything, before she could beg him or protest, he lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

HE REMEMBERED THIS. From that night. This passion. A conflagration, that was far beyond anything he had ever experienced before. Kissing had never been this. Desire had never been this. Need had never been an all-consuming driving urge that swamped his thoughts and made them go blank.

It was like sanctuary.

All day, every day, he was bombarded. The world around him was too loud. The feelings inside of him were too big. The thoughts inside his head so fast it was difficult to grab hold of one of them. And they never stopped. Never.

Except now. It was like everything whittled itself down into one singular point.

All that mattered was the sound of their breathing. The feel of her mouth beneath his. The way that her body felt beneath his hands, warm and supple, and all that he truly desired.

There were no thoughts. Because they were unnecessary.

And the feeling was only good.

And yet, nothing half so simple as good.

Sharp and poignant. Decadent and punishing. A revelation and a condemnation.

A baptism and hellfire.

He paused for a moment, for a breath. He pulled away and he looked at her. He waited. For her to say no. For her to pull away.

She didn’t. Instead she stretched up on her toes, wrapped her hand around the back of his head and pulled him down for a kiss.

Another one. This one more intense than the last.

Her hands were demanding, her mouth even more so. He tasted her deeply, his tongue sliding against hers, his arousal hot.

Overwhelming.

But in a good way, rather than in the way the world could feel all too often.

In this moment, there was no fear. No medicine. No discoveries yet uncharted that went anywhere beyond them.

And she... She was a discovery yet to be made. Yes, he had been with her once before. He had seen her naked. Answered the questions that he’d had about his assistant. But he was a curious man. And he could never be satisfied with just one panel of evidence. With just one moment of discovery. He needed to go deeper. He needed to find it all.

He needed to examine every angle. Every line. Every possibility.

And so slowly, he began to take her clothes off of her body. He gave thanks for the fact that it was three thirty in the afternoon. But the sun was shining down through the window.

That he would finally see her skin and all this golden light.

Because it was what he had wanted all these years. It was what he had denied himself because of propriety and rules.

But he would not deny himself now. Not anymore.

He realized then that he was entirely comprised of self-denial. Because he was so careful to never make a misstep. So careful to steer clear of doing the inappropriate. Of being wrong. Of showing that he cared more, of showing that he hurt more.

Of drawing attention to the real ways that he was abnormal.

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