“Perfect,” he repeated, his fingers brushing up and down over that spot, not pushing, not spreading, just a gentle caress that had me lifting my hips, his name whispering from my lips, wanting, needing more.
Then he pushed a finger inside and everything changed.
“God…” The curse, tumbling from his lips, as his mouth lowered to mine. Stretching his body forward, the hard muscles of his chest pressed against mine as he kissed me. I wrapped my legs around him, pinned his hand inside me, the gentle movement of that finger causing my breath to catch, mouth to freeze on his own.
“Yes, Brant. Oh my God, yes.”
“I love you so much,” he whispered, his mouth leaving mine, dropping to my neck, a hand pulling my legs apart as he moved down my body, his mouth soft on my skin, a delicious journey down as his finger continued its perfect tease inside my body. It’s amazing what a finger can do. Such a small digit, but able to go exactly right there. My back came off the leather, my breath arrested as he touched some place that made my world go dark. “Don’t stop,” I whispered. “Oh my God, don’t stop.”
I couldn’t keep my eyes open, but I wanted to. Wanted to see the look on his face, the dark intensity that stole over his face when he watched me. Wanted to see the moment he pulled out his cock, wanted to see the firm head of it, his hand wrapped around the base, the stroke of his fingers as he yanked at it.
This was his favorite moment—watching me come. It made the skin on his c**k stretch as he hardened to a level past belief. It caused his eyes to darken, his breath to hitch. The muscles in his chest tightened, his hands quickened, my name a quick moan on his lips. And I knew what was coming. What would happen as the shudders ceased, as I tumbled down the delicious hill that was my orgasm. At that moment, the most perfect moment my body would ever know? That was when he would thrust. Remove his fingers and shove inside. Fill me to breaking before starting a rhythm that would trump whatever ecstasy I just experienced.
And the knowing, the expectation… opening my eyes and seeing him prepare himself, his own excited anticipation at what was about to happen… The heavy lids and pants of his breath as his finger continued its lazy brush inside of me. I bucked against his hand and came so hard I broke.
Waves upon waves, the sounds from my mouth senseless, unmeaning. I arched against his hand, humped it like an animal in heat, my body exploding around his finger, the perfect flick of his fingers making my feet kick, the glimpse of his face, dark intensity, his cock, hard and ready, and I couldn’t stop it, it stretched, continued, beautiful insanity that turned my world into stars and my body into a constellation. And then, before I fell from the sky, at the moment when my breath began to catch and my eyes flicked open, he shoved inside of me and I lost it again.
Hard, fast. He f**ked me as if he hated me, but the words spilling out were nothing but love. He bent over me, dug his hands into my hips and held me tightly in place. Pounded away, my name repeating on his tongue, the urgency in his movements carrying me higher, spurring my pleasure. This was for him, and that made it for me, knowing that the loss of his control was a gift, a rarity that I was one of the few to see. I wrapped my legs, dug my heels into him, and raked my nails across his skin.
When he came, it was Brant Sharp intense, one hand tight to my neck, the other squeezing the meat of my ass, pulling me tighter, as if he would never get enough—be deep enough, be one enough—of me. He thrust fully in, moaned my name, and shuddered through the final f**ks of his orgasm.
“I love you so much,” he whispered, lifting me, his hands tucking underneath my body, picking me up in a way that his c**k stayed in, spinning with me until he was below and I was on top, stretched out over his body, my chest against his chest, the quick beat of our hearts off sync.
“I love you too, baby.”
Outside, I heard the roll of thunder. A storm was coming.
“When’s the event?” I took a sip of ice water, my eyes catching the waiter’s, the man scurrying to my side with the bill.
“Next Tuesday. I’ll call you that afternoon and remind you.” Jillian set down her fork, relaxing back in her chair, her hands smoothing the napkin on her lap.
“I’m not sixteen. I can remember a dinner. Though, if you let me have an assistant, you could stop worrying entirely. She could tie my shoes and get me to work on time.”
Jillian’s eyes softened. “You know you’re forgetful.”
“You don’t have time to keep me organized. You’re a busy woman. The company needs you more than I do.” I pulled a credit card from my wallet and dropped it on the bill, pushing it to the edge of the table before returning my stare to her.
“You’re not busy enough to need an assistant. And I don’t want some stranger thumbing through the details of our lives. You and I have looked after each other for twenty years. No need to change any of that now.”
I watched her, my mind skipping, brought back to square one by her palm, hitting the linen tablecloth with enough force to cause me to jerk.
“Stay with me Brant,” she said sharply. “You’re getting distracted and I need to run. Dinner… next Thursday. Be there.”
“Layana will remember. Email her the details.” I leaned back, watched her closely, saw her squirm in the seat against the chair. “You still hate her.”
“No,” she spoke sharply. “I never hated her. And don’t now. She’s fine. She’s just not what you need.”
“I don’t know how you’d know what I need. You’ve never even seen us together. Come by, she’s an incredible cook. You can join us for dinner.”
Jillian shook her head stubbornly, the glint of light reflecting in her diamonds. “No. I appreciate the offer, but no. Plus…” She smoothed her hands over the stack of papers before her, straightened the line of their edge. “I don’t think she would particularly want me there.”
I laughed. “Layana? See, you really don’t know her. She doesn’t have an unfriendly bone in her body.” Another shift. My eyes narrowed. She was hiding something. But then again, I always got that sense from her. “What?”
“Nothing. Any plans for this week?”
“Layana’s planned something. I’ll need the jet.”
Her frame stopped all movement. “For how long?” Skin around the mouth tight. Wrinkles emphasized. I looked at her and wondered. Why was she so attached to me? So afraid of my relationship with Layana. It wasn’t natural. Wasn’t normal. I shrugged. “We’ll be back by Monday. Don’t worry, the work won’t suffer.”