Page 108 of Possession

“When I’m right here, chica.” A shiver runs down my spine when he finally touches me where I want, and it makes me and my clit very happy. “I don’t want to hear about anyone else.”

I shift my legs open for him and suck in a shaky breath. “Got it.”

He leans in and traces my ear with the tip of his tongue. “Do I need to take you to our bedroom?”

I straighten my spine—metaphorically speaking, since I’m twisted into a sexual frenzy—and retort, “Depends on what you’re going to do there.”

His words continue to hit me in a low rumble when he puts his lips to my ear. “What do you think? I’m going to make you come. I’m sure as hell not going to do it here."

I squeeze my thighs around his hand, force him back far enough to look at him, and try to muster the courage to do what I came in here to do. “I can do that by myself.”

His teasing touch on my sex turns into a firm grip. “I don’t like that.”

I try to cross my legs, but he only holds me tighter. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

Wow. And just when I didn’t think his grip could be more possessive. He’s not trying out pet names like I am, but this time mine is growled in a very different tone. “Chica.”

“Sss…snookums.” I blame the impending orgasm for my foggy brain. “Stud muffin. Nutter butter. Sugar plum.”

He pulls in a deep breath that blankets me in a frustrated exhale.

“Do you not like baked goods?” I ask through shallow breaths.

Now it’s his turn to bite back a smirk, because he ignores my clit but doesn’t move his hand.

“I can switch to superheroes. Hulk. Black Panther. Captain America.” I grip his shirt and pull myself closer to him. “And my personal favorite—Thor.”

He manages to move his thumb between my thighs, and I get another shiver. “If you call me Thor, we’re going to have more problems than we’ve ever had. And that’s saying something, baby.”

I’m about to move onto a different themed list of pet names, but one of the cells on his desk vibrates. His eyes dart to the screen before I lose his hand. He at least wipes his fingers on his pants before picking it up and tapping the screen a million times to unlock it.

A frown mars his handsome face. And not one that tells me he doesn’t like Marvel.

“Hey,” I call for him, but he continues to stare at the screen. I put my fingertips to his chin and tilt his face to mine. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters. He’s looking straight into my eyes, but it’s like he’s in another world. Then, with a blink, he’s back, and my face is framed in his big hands. “Baby, as much fun as this is, I need to make a call. Swear on my life, I would not push you away if it weren’t important.”

“It’s okay.” His tone is unsettling and sobering. “Can I bring you a cup of coffee?”

He pulls me to him and presses his mouth to mine. This kiss is different.

It’s not sensual … it’s desperate.

When he finally lets me go, he tips his forehead to mine. There’s not a trace of banter in his tone. “No shit, baby, put on a bra before you go downstairs. Give me five minutes to make this call.”

I place my hand on his freshly shaved face. “Okay. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

And this time, I do exactly as my husband asks. I have a feeling the next five minutes will feel like an eternity.

25

GROUNDED

Brax

Two years ago

“I’m begging you, Braxton. Don’t do this. I can’t go through it again. It’ll kill me.”

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