Page 180 of Rival Hero

“I believe you asked me for something a moment ago,” I remind her of the request she made earlier.

Nibbling her lower lip like she’s suddenly shy, she nods and fastens her green irises on me from under her thick lashes.

“Ask again. I suspect you’ll like the answer.”

She wraps her hands around the back of my neck, grazing her fingertips at the shorn edge of my hairline. “Can I kiss you?” Her pupils dilate. “Please.”

“No,” I tease, one brow arched. “Because I’m going to kiss you.”

Her beaming smile is the last thing I see before I close my eyes and dive into the kiss.

We work our lips in tandem, hungry meeting tender. She must feel me hardening because she pulses her hips, dragging her core over the ridge of my cock. Nothing frantic or forceful. Only a tiny pulse that she likely can’t control.

My body reacts instinctually, sending another wave of blood flow to my dick and leaving me with an aching need to be inside her.

Damn.I only planned to make out with her, but if I don’t get inside her, I’ll be a miserable asshole for the rest of the day.

I deepen the kiss, angling her head to the side by tugging a fistful of her silky hair. She whimpers into my mouth. It’s so hot that she gets turned on when I pull her hair. Not sure why I do it, but it’s like my hand has a mind of its own.

As our tongues swirl and taste, she bears her pussy down harder against me, grinding my cock until I see stars.

I’m so fucking grateful she wore a skirt today.

Pulling at her hair gingerly, I break the kiss to run my tongue along the curve of her ivory neck. “You feel like corrupting me a bit more this morning?”

“That depends,” she simpers in a breathy bedroom voice that has no place in an office.

“On what?” I draw a tiny patch of skin between my teeth, nibbling it delicately.

“Is it a punishment or a reward?”

Ceasing my worshipping of her neck, I draw her gaze to mine. “What if it’s neither? What if we both just want to make each other feel good?”

Her lips, red and puffy from our vigorous kissing, press into a flat line. “Let me answer this way.”

Instead of speaking, she reaches between us, unzips my pants, and works her hand in the small space of my open fly, then into my boxers. She boldly grabs my erection, wrapping her delicate fingers around the shaft and pumping me in firm, languid strokes.

Her touch draws a hiss from me. I shift back to give her more room, unbutton my pants, and tug the fly open. With one hand still stroking me, she uses the other to lower the waistband of my boxers and pull out my shaft. Her breathing accelerates, matching the increasing tempo of her tugs and strokes.

She curves a brow and holds my stare. “That answer your question?”

“Yeah.” My head enthusiastically agrees, bobbing around like my neck is a wet noodle. “Yeah, it does. Cleared it right up.” I follow my rambling with a raspy groan.

While she expertly pumps my cock, I dig my fingers into her supple thighs and run them toward her panties. I attempt to sneak one hand under the edge, but it’s a tight fit, and I only get my first finger under the fabric.

As I graze my knuckle along her slit, she shudders from my touch.

I love affecting her with such a simple movement.

When I work my index finger through her wetness, her expression heats. I eagerly study her reactions like I’m cramming for a test. I want to memorize every aroused feature.

Her mouth parts when I make contact with her slick entrance, revealing a glimpse of that enticing tongue.

Unable to resist a taste, I pull her close with my free hand and capture her lips. She yields to me, encouraging me to take the lead.

And so I do.

I’m growing addicted to being in control of this vixen and how she cedes her body to me, trusting me to get her where she needs to go. It’s a powerful force, making me feel like ten times the man I was before.

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