Page 19 of Craving Her Christmas Boss

But he was right. She didn’t want anything more that might take the edge off this intensity. ‘Tell me what’s about to happen?’

‘You’re going to lose your head. We both are.’

‘Maybe I already have.’

He chuckled at that. ‘Not yet.’

‘It feels like it. You make me feel…woolly.’

‘Woolly?’ He was really laughing now.

‘In my head,’ she said crossly.

‘Stop thinking about your head,’ he instructed. ‘Stop thinking at all.’

In less than five seconds she’d done exactly that as he swept her close and kissed her deep. This time she wasn’t letting him step away again. She ran her hands over his hard muscles, tested the breadth of his shoulders, and had his shirt off and his trousers down well before her own clothes were even undone.

He walked backwards to the bedroom, stepping out of his clothes along the way, unzipping her skirt and opening her shirt buttons so she could do the same. He pushed her back onto the bed. He landed right on top of her and she arched up against him, unable to wait any longer for that complete contact.

His laughter was muffled as he kissed along the line of her bra. ‘Slow down, darling.’

Slow down? Was the man crazy? She didn’t have time for slow. It felt as if she been burning for him ever, and she was so close to fulfilment. She reached him, stroking him, urging him.

But at that he gripped her wrists and firmly lifted them high above her head. ‘Hold on to the pillow.’

She could feel something inside flare at his order. But a tiny sense of self-preservation made her resist. She tried to pull her hands free.

‘No.’ He pushed down hard, keeping her in place. ‘Hold on to the pillow.’

He was kneeling astride her. All she could see were broad shoulders, hard abs tapering to those slim hips, and his thick erection arrowing right at her.

She shivered—tried to break free again. His dominance was a turn on that she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge. ‘Maybe I don’t trust you.’

His laugh was short. ‘If you don’t trust me then you shouldn’t be anywhere near this point.’

She stared up at him. She trusted him physically. It was the mental and emotional stuff that she was unsure of.

He was looking deep inside her again—his gaze sure and heated yet with an odd gentleness. He moved to hold both her hands and one of his and ran a finger down from his throat to her navel. ‘Maybe you don’t trust yourself.’

She shivered again. He wasn’t going to let her get away with a quick thrill. He was asking for total response. The problem was the price that would be paid after. And she didn’t know if she could afford it.

Her defence rose. ‘You think you have me all figured out, don’t you? You think I’m uptight.’

‘Aren’t you?’

‘No.’

‘Well, I guess this is your chance to prove it to me.’

Their stares clashed. Determination versus defiance. Temptation versus resistance.

But such determined, warm temptation was impossible to resist. Her fingers curled into the soft pillow. But even as she surrendered, she challenged him. ‘Iwillretaliate.’

‘I wouldn’t expect anything less.’ He bent closer, whispered, ‘but the thing is, Imogen, I want this to last more than five minutes, and if you keep touching me like that we won’t even make it to two.’

She squeezed the pillow that bit tighter as pleasure rippled through her.

‘Yes,’ he said, approving as she flexed her hips. ‘I want you that much. So we need to even out the score a little.’

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