Page 17 of Staking His Claim

Fletcher

Icouldn’t keep my eyes—or my hands—off her.

It was fucking agony to let her walk out of my office—after I’d made sure the coast was clear—then wait a full five minutes before following her down to the basement where my chauffeur waited.

Especially when in those five minutes it seemed everyone in the damned firm, having heard the news, made it their business to step into my path and congratulate me on my divorce.

As if the failure was something I wanted to shout about.

The only thing I wanted to roar about was the magnificence of Emily Hartley’s pussy. But only in the privacy of my bedroom. Or bathroom. Or every single space I intended to fuck her once we reached my condo.

“You’re staring, Fletcher,” she murmured, her eyes darting to the front where Stan, my driver, kept his gaze on the road.

I hit the privacy partition, then returned my gaze to her. “Problem solved.”

A small smile curved her lips, and her dimple made an appearance. Her two climaxes had left a rosy pink, slightly dazed look on her face, making her even more breathtaking. I intended to keep that look permanently in place.

“That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it.”

I picked up our linked fingers, brought the back of her hand to my mouth. “I can’t help it. You’re breathtaking.”

She blushed, swayed towards me, then winced.

I swallowed the growl building in my throat. “How much time do you need, baby?” I wasn’t a total animal, but please let it be…not long.

Her blush deepened. “I don’t know. I’ve never…never had anyone with your…”

“My size? You fucking better not have,” I snarled.

Okay, so I was a feral beast when she referred to previous boyfriends. Before morning, I intended to wipe every last memory of them from her mind. Luckily there were other ways to get her off. And I deeply relished revisiting her gorgeous little pussy. And hell, I hadn’t even seen her glorious ass naked yet.

“You’re wearing your marauder smile again.”

I laughed, surprising myself.

When was the last time I laughed? Or the last time I felt so carefree? Definitely not in the recent months or years. “My what?”

She smiled. “That’s what the interns and associates call it. It’s the smile you use right before the big guns come out.”

My mock scowl was hopelessly undermined by my smug grin. “I’ll need names and positions.”

She gasped. “I’m not a snitch.”

“Then you’ll have to find inventive ways to save your colleagues. We have all afternoon.”

“Am I the reason you took the afternoon off?” she asked, her eyes searching.

“I had some catching up to do on the sex front. It’s been almost three years and I wasn’t spending another night with my hand for company.”

She blinked in surprise. “Three years?”

I brushed my mouth over hers. “You heard me.”

“But you and…” She paused, and I was glad she didn’t say my ex’s name. I didn’t want her ruining this moment. “You were separated and had filed for divorce.”

I shrugged. “Didn’t matter. Vows matter. I took vows and wasn’t a free man no matter how other people saw it.”

“Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

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