Page 72 of Hard Limits

He had the old gleam back in his eye, the cocky confidence, the glint that said “I’m going to ruin you and you’re going to enjoy it.”

I sat, eyeing him warily as goosebumps popped out on my arms.

“Good girl.”

He ran his hands down my legs, then put my feet on the arms of his chair, my legs spread, the heels of my pumps digging into the soft leather, my panties exposed. The goosebumps turned into a shiver. I’d never felt quite so vulnerable.

Or quite so turned on.

Mr. Vale’s divorce was finalised, and there was nothing between us now. Nothing to keep us apart. Well, nothing except the fact that I’d probably have to leave the country in the morning, anyway. My guilt complex was at war with itself. Deep down, I knew that he’d pushed the divorce through because of me, because of the heat that simmered between us every time we were close. But I didn’t want to lead him on, to give him hope that we could have a future together and then fail to deliver.

He deserved more.

But then there was the selfish part of me—she wanted her say too. If my family tracked me down, I’d be forced to marry Karam, to submit to a man I hated. I’d have to give up everything for him. But he wasn’t having my virginity. No, that gift would go to a man I loved.

So when Mr. Vale rose out of his chair and kissed me, his breath rough, his gaze heated, I kissed him right back.

I’d always worried that my lack of experience would stall me, that I’d make some embarrassing error, but now I realised my fears had been unfounded. Mr. Vale led, and I followed. He was in control. And the way he looked at me… I felt beautiful. Sexy. When Karam looked at me, I felt like a specimen under a microscope. As if he was assessing my many flaws.

Strong arms wrapped around me, a shield against all that was wrong in my world. I gave in to the moment, to the man, tipping my head back to allow Mr. Vale easier access as he ran the tip of his tongue along my jawline. Time slowed; my heart raced. His kisses were a drug, and I’d never get enough.

“My Meera,” he murmured.

Yes, I was his. Wherever I was, whoever I was with, my heart would always belong to Braxton Vale.

“Are you expecting me to do any work today?” I asked, just to check. I was fairly sure I knew the answer already, but I wanted to be certain.

“Work is off the agenda. Your job today is to moan my name every time you come.” Oh my. “And I don’t mean ‘Mr. Vale.’”

“Then why do you keep making me call you that?”

“I knew from the moment I met you that you’d change my life, and I thought it would keep some professional distance between us.”

“Did it work?”

“What do you think? Every time you said it, my cock twitched, and because I’m a sick motherfucker, I decided I liked that.”

“Brax…” I tried it out for size.

“Better. Fuck, I need to taste you.”

I thought he’d kiss me again, but instead, he inched my skirt up, higher, higher, before burying his head between my legs. He feathered soft kisses up my inner thighs, then traced the delicate seam between my leg and my torso with his tongue. I squirmed, but he pushed me down on that enormous desk of his, hooking my legs over his shoulders as he did whatever he pleased.

“Do you have any hard limits, Meera?”

“W-what? I don’t understand.”

“Things you definitely don’t want me to do?”

I definitely didn’t want him to push a chopstick into my urethra—I’d seen the aftermath of that and it wasn’t pretty—but I was quite sure Brax wouldn’t be that stupid, so I just shook my head.

Then gasped as he pushed my panties aside and went to work with his tongue. That magic tongue. He circled my clitoris, licking and sucking and teasing, showing me everything I’d missed out on thanks to my father’s constant meddling.

But…but at that moment, I was glad he’d interfered. Glad he’d paid off all the men who’d come before. Because there was no one I’d rather be doing this with than Braxton lizard-tongue Vale.

“You taste even sweeter than I thought,” he murmured, pausing for a moment to study me.

“Don’t you dare stop.”

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