Page 58 of Legal Passion
“Damn, woman!” he exclaimed. “What the hell do you have on?”
She touched one of the cups of the bra, which was secured to the strap with a bow. “Bette’s Beguiling Bows.”
He shook his head. “No damn wonder Simon lost his mind...and Ronan.”
“What?” she asked, totally confused what his partners had to do with her new underthings.
“The lingerie designer, the model...” He gestured at her underwear. “That’s what they do.”
And his partners did them, apparently.
“Shouldn’t I have bought it?” she asked.
“Depends,” he said and he pushed her fingers away from the bow to toy with it himself. He tugged it loose so that the cup dropped away, freeing her breast. He cupped it in his palm and flicked his thumb across the nipple.
And she lost her breath for a moment as pleasure streaked from her breast to her core. “On what?”
He moved his hand from her breast to the bow holding up the other cup. He toyed with the end of the bow for a long moment before pulling it loose. Then he cupped that breast in his hand, but he held his thumb just a breath away from the nipple.
“On what?” she asked, as desire burned inside her.
“Did you buy it for me or dopey Dwight?”
She smiled. “You.”
And he touched her nipple, rubbing his thumb across it. Once. Twice. “But you were mad at me and I was mad at you.”
“We usually are,” she said.
He nodded. “That’s right. You hate me.”
“I do.” But her heart felt all warm and big, and she was afraid that she didn’t hate him enough. She needed to hate him more. “That was another reason I bought this,” she said. “Figured I would let you sneak a peek and then deny you.”
“There’s one problem with that,” he said, and he pulled that hand away and stepped back.
“What’s that?” she asked, and her brow furrowed.
“If you deny me, you deny yourself, too.” And he turned as if he was going out the door.
She cursed. Him and herself.
But he only turned the dead bolt before whirling back toward her and lifting her in his arms. He headed straight toward the bedroom.
They denied each other nothing. Their mouths and hands moved hungrily over each other. He tugged loose the bows on her hips that had held her panties together. Then he slid his fingers inside her. He teased her, intensifying the pressure inside her, the need for release until she squirmed on the mattress.
She held out her arms, trying to pull him down with her. She had never needed anyone before, but in this moment—in the heat of passion—she needed him.
Finally, he stepped back and pushed down his pants and boxers. Then he sheathed himself before joining her on the bed. He lifted her legs, hooking them around his shoulders as he eased himself inside her.
She had never considered herself a flexible person until now. She was able to bend and contort so that he slid even deeper inside her.
The sensation was incredible. He was incredible.
He leaned over more and kissed her—deeply, hungrily—as he set a frantic rhythm. She joined him, grinding her hips against him, meeting his every thrust, until finally that unbearable tension broke.
He slipped away for a few moments before coming back and crawling into bed. He rolled her limp, satiated body into his arms and held her closely.
She had never been so satisfied. So content. So happy...
