Page 13 of Grumpy Alien Boss

His thumb strokes over my knuckles, sending shivers racing up my arm.

My mouth goes dry. This is it. The moment of truth. I could laugh it off, pretend this is all just harmless flirting between a boss and his assistant. Or I could take the plunge, cross that line...

His eyes darken with hunger.

"Let's get out of here," he says.

We barely make it back to the limo before his lips are on mine, his hands sliding over my curves. I moan into the kiss, my fingers tangling in his hair. Weeks of pent-up tension explode in a frenzy of grasping hands and desperate kisses.

His lips claim mine with fierce intensity, and every fantasy I've had about this moment pales in comparison to reality. My fingers trace along his jaw, expecting the rough scratch of five o'clock shadow, but instead I find something... different. Smooth yet textured, like touching fine leather or...

"God, you're incredible," he growls against my mouth, and coherent thought vanishes.

His hands slide down my sides, settling on my hips and pulling me closer. The leather seat creaks beneath us as I arch into his touch. The strange texture of his skin becomes just another delicious sensation as his tongue sweeps into my mouth.

My whole body tingles with electricity. Every brush of his lips, every stroke of his hands sets my nerve endings on fire. I've never felt anything like this before - this raw, primal need consuming me from the inside out.

The limo turns a corner, and I catch glimpses of the city flashing past the tinted windows. But New York could burn down around us right now and I wouldn't notice or care. All that matters is the way Darwin's mouth moves against mine, the way his fingers dig into my hips, the deep rumble of pleasure in his chest when I tug gently at his hair.

"Darwin," I gasp as his lips trail down my neck.

He responds by pulling me even closer, until I'm practically in his lap. The strange smoothness of his skin barely registers anymore - not when his kisses are making my head spin and my body melt.

His lips crash into mine with a ferocity that steals my breath. His hand grips my ass, fingers digging in, claiming me. A low growl rumbles through his chest, vibrating against my own. It's a primal sound, one that awakens something wild within me.

I'm pinned against the plush leather of the limo seat, his body a delicious weight atop mine. His lips leave mine, trailing a path of fire down my neck. Each kiss, each lick, each nip of his teeth sends me higher, until I'm a writhing mess beneath him.

"Oh Daddy," I hear myself moan. They're wanton and needy, but I can't bring myself to care. Not when he's making me feel like this.

His hands are everywhere, bunching up my skirt, gripping my thighs. He strokes me through the damp fabric of my panties, and I can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more. More friction, more pressure, more of him.

He obliges, his fingers working me with a practiced ease that has me seeing stars. I'm so lost in the sensation, so caught up in the moment, that I don't realize what he's about to do until I hear the fabric tear.

Cool air hits my exposed sex, and then his fingers are inside me, filling me, stretching me. He strokes a spot deep within that has my vision whiting out. My orgasm hits me like a freight train, my body bowing off the seat as I cry out.

But he swallows the sound with his mouth, his hand clamping over my lips as I shatter around his fingers. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over me, until I'm limp and boneless beneath him.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he gazes down at me. There's a possessive glint in his gaze that should scare me, but all it does is stoke the fire within me. I want him, all of him, in a way I've never wanted anyone before.

"You're mine now, Olivia," he says, his voice a low, sexy rumble.

And God help me, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

The limo glides to a stop in front of Rook Tower. Darwin's hands smooth my skirt, his touch still sending shivers through me. My hair's a mess, and I catch my reflection in the privacy divider - lipstick smeared, cheeks flushed.

"Here, let me help." His fingers thread through my hair, arranging it back into something presentable. The tender gesture makes my heart flutter.

He reaches down, picking up my torn panties from the floor. My breath catches as he brings them to his nose, inhaling deeply. His eyes darken with renewed hunger.

"A souvenir," he says, tucking them into his breast pocket. The possessive gesture makes heat pool low in my belly.

"We never ate lunch," I say with a breathless laugh. My body still hums from his touch, pleasure coursing through my veins.

"We skipped right to dessert." His voice drops to that growl that makes my toes curl. "And once we get up to the office, I plan on a second helping."

My pulse quickens at the promise in his words. Images flash through my mind - his desk, his chair, the conference room table...

The door opens, and reality crashes in with a wall of sound. Angry voices. Chanting. Signs wave in the air: "Save the Rainforest!" "Rook = Destroyer!" "Stop the Bulldozers!"

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