Page 67 of Possession

“So was I, all things considered. You also loved your grandmother. I didn’t trust her, and I definitely wasn’t sure I liked her. But watching you with her, hearing you laugh, it did something to me.” I clamped my fingers around the end of her mostly deconstructed braid, using it to tug back her head so that her sea-colored eyes were on mine. “You want one of my secrets, Ms. Copeland?”

“You know I do. I want all of them.”

I couldn’t give her all. But I could give her this.

“Sure about that? You’re not going to like me very much afterward.” I brushed my fingers through her hair, spreading it over her shoulders.

“Who says I like you now?”

“Touché. I followed you. I tracked you, and I learned everything about you. You fascinated me on levels I’d never experienced before. Imagining you with another boy, thinking of him touching you,” I parted her full, pink lips and slid my finger inside, “of him having this, it made me crazy. And then when I discovered you didn’t care about boys, I became obsessed with being the one. The one who would have you first.”

She took a shuddery breath. “You’re right. I’m not liking you a lot right now.”

“Told you.”

“Is that how it always is with you? You have to plant a flag and claim everything? Can’t anything be easy with you?”

“With my company, no. With you, absolutely not.” I bent to nip the indentation I’d made in her lip. “I never did get to have this pretty, perfect mouth first. But I’ll have it now.”

She bit my lip, and damn if I didn’t groan like a teenager in heat. She’d made me that from the first, and sometimes it felt like I hadn’t progressed much past that point.

Her small fist plowed into my gut, and the sound I made was far from sexual. Jesus, she had some power for such a little thing. “You stalked me. Did recon on me, searched into my past?”

Were those questions or statements? I nodded.

She hit me again, nudging me back. My spine hit the counter and she hooked her fingers in the loops of my pants. “Contrary to what some woman might do after hearing all that, I’m not dropping to my knees for you. I’m supposed to get all weak-kneed because you followed me around and pried into my personal life instead of, I don’t know, coming up to say hi? You know, what’s your phone number, want to get a burger?”

I must’ve made a face at that because she shook her head. “Oh no, God forbid the almighty Blake Carson go on an actual date. A meal, a movie, some getting-to-know-you conversation.”

“Is that what you want?” I grasped her wrist. “The banal and ordinary?”

It annoyed me I’d never considered it. Why would she want that when we could take helicopter rides and fuck in secret locations atop my building? Or hell, right in the front vestibule.

In the office washroom, in the gallery across from the clock I’d created for?—

No. I wasn’t going there now. There was baring my soul and then there was ripping it open for sport.

“It’s not banal. You truly are clueless, aren’t you?”

When she lifted her hands, probably to push me one more time, I grabbed them and laced our fingers together. “The next time you touch me that roughly, your hand better be on my dick.”

Instead of dropping to her knees, she arched an eyebrow. “Maybe you should be the one on your knees, since you were the one with the stalkery crush, Mr. Carson.”

Oh, this woman.

I let her go and had a moment to enjoy the smile of satisfaction that slid across her face before I wiped it away by hauling her off her feet. I turned her toward the counter and swept things out of my way with my arm before I laid her down beside the laptop where our lives were being blown apart. My haste had pushed the computer to the very edge and her eyes widened before I yanked down her sheep pants and reminded her of who was in charge.

On my knees. Fuck that. I could do this just as well standing up.

She wore no panties beneath. Damn tease. She never slept naked like I did, but she went without underwear at unexpected times. Like this one, where her scent was like fresh lavender set to bloom under a heat lamp. Spicy and tangy, I could taste her in my throat even before I took the first lick.

Bending my head, I arrowed my tongue along her slit, flattening it over her clit as she tried to wriggle away. I pressed my hand low on her belly and nipped, pleased when she spread her thighs and kicked out, either to nail me once more or to loosen her pants. I tugged them down with one hand and used the other to open her up for my mouth, plunging deep in one long stroke. She cried out and speared her fingers into my hair, again making me wonder if she was going to draw me closer or push me away.

She dragged me into her warmth, and I was glad to oblige. I buried my face in her folds, kissing her in a way I’d barely gotten to do tonight with her mouth. Earlier, she’d ended things too quickly. Now, her thighs were inching farther apart, the pants dangling off her foot as she curled her leg around my back. She arched, nails digging into my scalp, toes scraping along my spine.

Pussy wide open and pink, and so, so wet.

I rubbed her clit with the flat of my thumb, circling, circling. Lapping up everything she gave me and demanding more, burrowing into her sexy flesh until her dampness soaked my chin. I slid my fingers lower and slipped them inside, unwilling to miss even a second of her orgasm.

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