Page 63 of Wicked Pursuit

I looked up at him from under my lashes. “That’s a complicated question. I’ll still be loyal to my father. Not obedient.”

He smiled, and I felt it low in my stomach. I was hot and wet and desperate for what he promised with that smile...and it scared me. This was a man I could lose control with.

I swore he could see the fears swimming in my eyes, and it brought out the predator in him.

“If you belonged to me, would you be obedient?” He ran a thumb along my bottom lip, like he already owned me, and it sent delighted chills skittering down my spine.

I was shaking, but I felt alive and molten. I wanted him like I’d never wanted anyone in my life, and it had nothing to do with my father’s expectations.

“Yes,” I breathed.

He pulled me away from the bar and turned me around, placing my hands where his had been. When he ground his hips against my ass, I knew he wanted this as badly as I did, and that only made me wetter. What would it be like to make a man like him lose control?

He wrapped my hair around his hand and lifted it to brush possessive, searing kisses along the nape of my neck as his other hand pulled my skirts up. His rough palm skated over my thigh, and he pressed me back harder against his arousal.

Touch me. Oh god, yes…more.

I didn’t say it, but he could feel my trembling thighs and panting breaths, the way I parted my legs wider, begging for it. I’d never let anyone touch me like this before, and suddenly I was desperate to know what came next.

I gasped when his fingers slid over the satin of my panties. I didn’t want the smug bastard to feel how soaked they were, but I needed him to touch me more than I wanted to hide the effect he had on me. He teased his fingers under the side of the fabric, sliding up and down without touching me where I needed him. I whimpered and rolled my hips, coaxing him to give it to me.

“You really want this…” It wasn’t a question, not quite, but there was surprise in his gruff tone like I’d done something unexpected.

“Please…”

He stopped moving. “Would you still want this if your father hadn’t sent you tocharmme?”

How did he know the word my father had used?

I panted, trying to think clearly. I reached for some kind of answer that made me sound less pathetic, but all I could come up with was the truth. “I wanted this in the boathouse before I knew who you were.”

Like that was all the answer he needed, he tugged my panties to the floor in one swift movement, letting me step out of them before his fingers returned and he gave me what I craved. He pressed and rolled in clever controlled movements, swiftly bringing me close to release. I moaned and writhed, simultaneously reveling in the sensation and yearning for something more.

He growled against my ear, “Would you let me sink into this tight pussy right here?”

“Yes.” I was willing to let my first time be bent over a barstool if it meant I got to feel this with him.

He groaned. “You should demand your own pleasure first, princess.”

He lowered himself to the ground under the bar, kneeling before me in a ten-thousand-dollar tuxedo like it didn’t matter.

His dark eyes never left mine when his hands roamed under my skirts again, ever so slowly tracing a path to where I ached. He watched me with a hungry expression as he reached the apex of my thighs, like he was savoring my reactions as much as I was melting for his touch.

At first it was too light, but then I realized he was slowly building to something, deliberately drawing this out instead of getting me off as quickly as he could. He kept taking me higher, then letting the pleasure subside, then coaxing more from me again.

I fisted my hands, fighting the wanton part of me that wanted to weave my fingers into the long strands of his white-blond hair. I needed to stay in control. There was too much at stake.

He looked at me curiously. “Why do you fight it, darling?”

I thrashed my head, trying to remember how to form a sentence that went beyond begging him for more. “We shouldn’t be doing this where anyone could walk in…”

His grin was dangerous. “If you still remember where you are, I’ll need to try a little harder.” He ducked under my skirts, and the next thing I felt was the hot, wet slide of his tongue against my core. I gripped the bar harder and spread my thighs wider, feeling reckless and needy. It was like he knew my body better than I did, knew just what to do to make me mindless.

I didn’t know anything could feel this good!

He rolled his tongue over my clit with delicious pressure, holding my hips in place as I shook and moaned.It felt like I was coming apart with sensation, but he just kept going, never so much as pausing as I was slowly stripped of reason, existing only for the pleasure he drew from my body. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. I was so close, so desperately close.

He thrust two thick fingers inside me, and my knees started to buckle. The stretching pressure was intimate and intense, leaving me to wonder for a split second what his cock would feel like, but then I lost the ability to think altogether. I rode out the most intense orgasm of my life, bucking and whimpering as he let me finish, still gripping my hip with one hand to keep me steady.

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