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Chapter 9
Max
“I learned something last night,” I announce after watching Sloane make some coffee the next morning in her silk pajama shorts and thin camisole that I guess is supposed to pass as a shirt. She obviously didn’t hear me enter the kitchen because she jumps at the sound of my voice and crosses her arms over her chest in a vain attempt to hide her beautiful breasts.
“I’m sorry about the kittens. Penny ran out of space—” Her voice cuts off as I prowl towards her.
I woke up in the middle of the night, my cock hard as a rock after a lascivious dream about the woman standing in front of me. It didn’t take long for me to return the kittens to the cage and go to bed.
It did, however, take a long time for me to fall back asleep. I didn’t manage it until I took the problem in hand, temporarily relieving some of the pressure.
“You are unique,” I continue, stalking around the kitchen island separating us, wearing only my pajama pants. “You don’t do things for the glory, the status, or the money. You do them because you care. You care for others. You care for the animals. You care for your family and friends.” I step closer, crowding her as she backs into the wall next to the refrigerator. “I’m beginning to suspect you might also care for me.
“Do you, Sloane?” I press my hand to the refrigerator, trapping her. “Do you care for me?”
“Well, of course I do. I care for—”
I cut her off. I’ve heard enough. She might want to qualify her statement, but the truth is shining from her deep blue eyes. She isn’t just here for the job. It would take more than a personal assistant job to make her wander into my kitchen in her pajamas. She isn’t even just here for the kittens, although I’m sure they’re a factor.
She cares for me. Not my money. Not my name. Me. I’m just not sure how much.
“Yes, you do.” I grasp her stubborn chin in my hand, running my thumb over her bottom lip. She blinks her ridiculously long lashes, a question in her eyes.
I’m more than ready to answer. I’m ready to claim this woman. Her delicious curves. The sassy looks she gives me. Her tempting mouth. Everything. Is. Mine.
“You’re mine. The kittens are mine. Every part of you is mine except what I choose to share.”
She shakes her head in denial, and that’s when the simmering coals inside me transform into an uncontrollable wildfire. I slam my mouth onto hers, licking, biting, and claiming her lush lips.
Her fingers dive into my hair, holding me close. Every muscle in my body tenses as she moans in pleasure.
I rip my mouth away, needing to know that she wants this as much as I do.
“Admit it.” I grip her hips and grind against her, bracing us both against the wall. “Admit you want me.”
I wait barely a second for her response before I’m devouring her mouth again. I need to get deeper. I need to own the taste of her. I’m addicted. She tastes better than the finest scotch, something I could savor every day—morning and night.
Her tongue sneaks into my mouth, rubbing against my own. Her responsiveness only makes me want her more.
I pull away and look at her damp, swollen lips. They’re full and red, and they’d be amazing wrapped around my cock.
“Do you want me, Sloane?”
She squirms like she’s trying to get away. Instead, her breasts rub against my bare chest, the camisole a thin protection against the heat of my skin.
I continue the slow grind, making sure the full length of my arousal presses against her sensitive nub. My lips follow the curve of her jaw, down her neck, glorying in the silky skin under my tongue.
Her erotic gasps are sweet music to my ears, but they aren’t enough.
“Tell me, Sloane.” I pause the motion of my hips, keeping my rock hard cock away from her warmth.
Her hips swivel erratically, desperately searching for more friction. Still, I wait.
I feel her capitulation before she speaks. “Yes, damn it. I want you.”
That’s my girl. She deserves a reward. I lift her leg and press my cock against the thin fabric of her shorts. Harder, increasing in speed, getting drunk on the sound of her whimpering “yes” in my ear.
Her hands grasp my shoulders hard enough to leave imprints of her nails in my skin. Her body shudders in my arms, tension building until she reaches her peak. She feels like an angel, sweet and fresh. And I’m the sinner who wants to keep her hot, wet, and coming on my cock.
