Page 85 of Forbidden You

“You’re a tease.”

“I’m atease?” I point my finger at my chest. “You’re the one who basically made me glide off that chair by rubbing my hand against your dick.”

“I know.” A boyish grin lifts the corner of his mouth and it makes butterflies fly through my stomach.

“IN a meeting,” I rebuke.

“I know.” His playful stance never changes, and boy, does it turn me on even more. My thighs clench together when he tugs me closer, brushing his lips on the corner of my parted ones.

“You seem pretty content about yourself, Mr. McKay.′

He lets out a pained moan. “Babe, you can’t call me that. You’ll make me come without touching me.”

“What?” I cheer. “I must have some kind of super-talent, then.”

A long, open-mouthed kiss lands on my cheek, and I hum at his touch. “You definitely have many talents.”

“Yeah?” My eyes close, wanting to enjoy every single time he presses his lips on my skin.

“Many talents.”

“Like what?” I ask while he moves his mouth down my neck.

“Organizing.” Kiss. “Planning fundraisers.” Kiss. “Making me laugh.” Kiss. The last one does something to my heart, and steals my breath. He does the same to me. My days have been so much more fun since I’ve started spending them with Bodi.

“Is that so?”

He hums in agreement while my hands begin to undo his jeans. He said no sex inthe office. He never said anything about the janitor’s closet, and the son of a bitch got me all riled up with a boardroom full of people.

I’ve earned my fun. Consequences be damned.

“Let me show you one more, then.” He pulls his head back, giving me a bewildered look.

“What are you doing?” His eyes are no longer playful, solely glazed with a craving I can sense between my legs.

“Showing you a talent I reserved just for you.”

I wait for his disapproval, his reprimand. His reminder that we’re at work. But he stays silent. When he just licks his lips in anticipation, I get down on my knees, taking his jeans and boxers with me. He peers down at me with parted lips, an amazed expression written on his face.

Without waiting for his response, I grasp his throbbing length, covering the tip with my lips. Tentatively, I swirl my tongue around it, tasting every single inch of his skin while he motivates me with a deep moan.

I take him in both hands, then pull back, looking up at him through my lashes.

“You have to be quiet, Mr. McKay. We don’t want anyone to think you’re giving me special treatment.”

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His hand weaves into my hair as he looks down at me with a tensed jaw.

“It seems to me that I’m the one getting special treatment.”

Smirking, I run my tongue along his shaft, my eyes never leaving his, until he throws his head back in pleasure. Then I put my full attention on his shaft between my lips. While I move my hand up and down, I take him into my mouth over and over again, sucking off the tip with an eagerness that can be measured by the wetness between my legs.

I get more turned on by every groan he gives me, fueled by his demanding fingers fisting my hair. I love how even on my knees for him, I’m in control and making him come undone, and when I taste some of his desire on my tongue, I let out a craving moan myself. It’s a sweet taste, almost fruity, mixed with a sultry tang.

The flavor of him is intoxicating in the most delicious way and, with enthusiasm, I pick up my pace. The air changes, growing hotter every second as I keep going.

“Jesus Christ,” he hisses when I rest his balls in my hands, playing with them, rolling my palms over his warm skin. Moans continue coming from my throat while I never let his tip fall from my tongue.

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