Page 22 of Of Desire And Deception

Wynn hissed when I cleaned her cut. “Intelligence.”

My eyes flicked to hers in time to catch the regret in her gaze. She hadn’t meant to tell me that. Interesting. She’d told me her father was a good man, so why would his military service be something she was reticent to share?

I pressed clean gauze to her palm and held it there. Thick silence filled the room around us as I mentally counted the seconds. I did a double take when I raised my head and found Wynn biting her lip, the heat within making her blue eyes blaze. It drew me to her like a moth, willing to fucking burn alive.

My body moved instinctively, leaning forward and pulling her bottom lip free, capturing it with my teeth and sinking into that soft flesh until Wynn whimpered. I released her, then swiped my tongue across her lips, kissing her and plying her mouth open until she let me in.

I trailed my fingers up her chest, bared in the vest she wore, to her neck, where I ringed her throat, keeping her exactly where I wanted her. She was so soft, her citrus and sunshine scent surrounding me, filling my nose. I breathed her in, taking drag after drag of her like she was my addiction.

Wynn was no soft, sensitive lover. She thrust her tongue right back into my mouth like she was waging a sensual war against me. Her hands fisted my leather jacket, yanking me closer, and I tightened my grip on her neck, feeling her rapidly beating pulse under my fingers.

“Cosimo,” she whimpered, and I lost all control. That was how she should say my fucking name.

I dragged her onto my lap, leaning back on the couch as she straddled my thighs, her hot center pressing down on my needy cock. I sucked her tongue, her lips, her neck, then began over again. Her ponytail wrapped perfectly around my hand, and I closed it into a fist at the back of her head, angling her mouth to delve even deeper.

I couldn’t get enough of Wynn. She was my ambrosia, and I never wanted to stop touching her, kissing her. It felt so fucking right.

Her hands framed my face, her palms sliding down my cheeks. I groaned and thrust my hips upward when I felt her warm blood between us, making her gasp and roll her hips, only a few layers of fabric separating my cock from her pussy. Her damp heat wet my jeans as she ground against me.

Somewhere in my mind, I knew there was a reason I couldn’t fuck her in my office, but at the moment, reason was not something I wanted to acknowledge.

Fuck logic.

Fuck sensibility.

Fuck, Wynn.

Her sharp nails bit into my cheek, and I nipped her lip in return. She fucking growled at me, and I palmed her ass, grinding her harder against my cock, inching us toward an inevitable edge. So close. So fucking close.

I could feel Wynn’s thighs shaking as I stimulated her hidden clit. Nothing would stop me from feeling her collapse on me.

“That’s it, goldilocks,” I breathed into her mouth, kissing her hard. “Fucking use me. Make yourself come.”

Wynn stilled, blinking like she was waking from a dream. Then her eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, shit. Fuck. Your face.”

“What?” Confused and still so aroused that my balls ached, I tried to bring her lips back to mine, but she resisted. What the fuck had happened?

“I left marks,” she lamented, knocking my hand from her hair and scrambling to climb off me. She plopped onto the couch cushion next to me and rubbed a hand over her eyes. The sight of her bloody hand made that protective voice shout in my head, shoving all thoughts of rejection from my brain.

“Stay still,” I demanded. Our hot little moment had passed, and I needed to help her. I tore open another alcohol wipe and cleaned the drying blood from her palm. She didn’t react this time. “Are you okay?”

The question encompassed more than her physical state. I needed to know if she’d felt like I took advantage and if she’d been as into it as I was.

“I’m good.” Wynn offered me a weak smile and watched as I pulled glue from my kit.

I searched her face, but she’d shuttered her emotions. Was that good? Bad? It bothered me. “No adhesive allergies?”

“No,” she verified. I carefully pinched the edges of the cut together, gluing the wound. I found a couple of small butterfly bandages and affixed them as extra support since she’d no doubt move her hand a lot while working. She tested closing and opening her hand, wincing slightly at the stretch. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” My entire body felt sensitized from those few minutes with Wynn. I closed the med kit and tossed the trash, putting everything away before turning and leaning against my desk, watching Wynn where she still sat on my couch.

Her swollen lips. That mussed hair. The sting her nails had left behind on my cheek, just above where her blood had cooled. My desire barreled through me with a vengeance, willing me to stalk over and tear her clothes off, then pin her underneath me and fuck her until the whole place could hear her screams of pleasure.

You cannot do that, I reminded myself.

I was in too deep. Felt things I shouldn’t feel. Wanting to do things that were wrong by most standards but would feel so fucking right.

No.

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