Page 62 of Accidental Vegas Vows

His fingers ghosted across my already damp lips, forcing a whimper from me as a shiver crawled up my spine, and his eyes widened. “Jesus, Liv,” he laughed, the lids of his eyes lowering as he leaned over me, one hand resting on the arm of the sofa and the other slipping against my clit. “No underwear? At work?”

I gasped at the sensation. “I was in a rush?—”

“No, you weren’t. Don’t fucking lie,” he smirked. One finger slipped inside of me, his thumb coming to rest against the bundle of nerves, and oh my God, he was going to kill me like this. “Tell me, princess. Do you like the way it feels without them? Do you like the way the seam rubs against you?”

Another finger, and a little more pressure. My back arched up off the cushions, my face heating once again.

“You went to bed last night full of my cum,” he rasped, slowly lowering himself until he was on his knees, forcing me to open even more. “Were you hoping it would leak out while you sat at your desk? Were you hoping it would coat your fucking tights?”

His fingers curled, hitting that spot inside of me that made my head swim. “Damien,” I moaned, reaching for him, snaking my hand around the back of his neck. He looked so fucking perfect in the sunlight, little specks of gray reflecting in his hair, his blue eyes shining.

“If I didn’t have a Goddamn meeting…” he breathed, sinking another finger into me, stretching me just enough that I lost every brain cell left.

“Don’t go to it,” I begged. I dug my nails into the back of his neck, tried to pull him closer. “Fuck me instead. Please.”

Something akin to a growl reverberated through him as he pushed my skirt up my thighs until it settled around my hips, revealing every bit of damage he’d done to my unsalvageable tights, revealing the cords of my dampness that connected my upper thighs.

“As much as I’d love to, I don’t have the time.”

His mouth descended on me, his tongue replacing the work of his thumb. I could barely breathe, could barely move, and in an instant I could feel my release beginning to build like a finish line I didn’t want to cross. I didn’t want to stop.

“Fuck, you’re close,” he grunted, the words obscured from his mouthful of me. “Good fucking thing, too. Ethan’s on his way up, and I didn’t lock the door.”

God fucking dammit, he knew what he was doing, what he was saying. Just the idea of his friend, his lawyer, walking in expecting to find Damien behind his desk and instead finding him with his mouth between my spread legs and my pussy on display, sent me spiraling at top speed toward my release.

I broke in an instant, a painful screech daring to rip through my vocal cords, but Damien’s hand covered my mouth at the last possible second and dampened the sound. Pleasure invaded my system, spreading through my veins like wildfire, breaking me, mending me, devouring me. He kept going far past when it was too sensitive, making me squirm, making me sob for him to stop, and only then did his tongue leave me.

His fingers stayed, though. They dragged me through every aftershock.

Half drunk on pleasure and the sight of glistening wetness coating his lips and chin, words fell from me that I didn’t think through. “I can’t believe I get to have this for the rest of my fucking life.”

He picked himself up from the floor and leaned across my spread legs to kiss me, his fingers slowly slipping out of me. “Only if you stay married to me,” he joked, his breathy chuckle fanning out across my lips.

“Absolutely not,” I laughed. But with my mind too full of him and not enough hesitation, sneaking thoughts drifted in. Would it be so bad to stay married to him? Do I even want this to end?

I shifted my hips up toward him, just narrowly missing a collision with his slacks before he pushed me back down onto the sofa. “Do not stain my suit right before a Goddamn meeting, princess.” His voice was harsh, but his half-lidded eyes and wide smile told me he wouldn’t have given two shits if I had.

He kissed me again, and again, and again, his hips preventing my legs from closing or my skirt from moving back into position. He kissed me as long as he possibly could, sharing the taste of me, holding me, only making me want more from him, longer with him, everything with him. I needed to get a fucking hold of myself, but I didn’t want to. I wanted this. I wanted this for as long as he would give it to me.

But a robotic voice from across the room sounded, and both of us paused. “Board meeting in five minutes. Board meeting in five minutes.”

“I have to go,” he sighed, pushing himself up off me and dragging my skirt back into position. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

I pouted but let him retreat, the realization fully sinking in that Ethan likely wasn’t on his way up and he’d just said that to get a rise out of me. The door was unlocked though — that much had been true. But I doubted anyone in their right mind would barge in unannounced to Damien’s office.

He offered me a hand, and I took it, letting him pull me back up into a seated position. “HR,” he said.

What? I looked up at him, my gaze quizzical, my brows furrowing.

“I married you because I wanted to have you without breaking mine or HR’s rules.” He straightened his suit jacket before leaning down to press a final kiss against my lips, my mind still spinning. “Among all the other reasons.”

Chapter 22

Damien

The inconsistencies of my choices had been gnawing at me for well over a week. Stay with her for Noah’s sake. Let her go for her sake. Keep both, somehow, for my sake.

A date had been set for the court hearing. Ethan and I had two months to figure everything out, and I was going to use that to my advantage. I had time on my side. I had Olivia, still, for however long that would last. And I had Noah. For at least two more months, I had Noah.

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