Page 91 of She’s Worth the Risk

His denim-blue eyes move between mine, wild and desperate. “I need you, Zinnia. I need you so badly I could weep.”

Fuck.

I tug his lips back to mine, tongue sweeping hungrily into his mouth, hands already on his belt to free his erection. He’s so hard, and I spit into my hand, stroking him urgently. I watch in the dim light as his eyes roll back, hips rocking into my palm, his breath growing erratic.

“Fuck,” he chokes out. “Honey.”

I drag my mouth along his jaw, relishing the scratch of his beard on my lips, his fresh, masculine scent. His cock is hot and throbbing in my hand, and I rub my thumb over the tip, loving the way he’s wet there. The proof of how much he needs me.

He shoves my skirt up, fingers slipping past the edge of my panties to push into me. My back arches as his fingers curl inside me, rough and demanding, wet fire burning between my thighs.

“Yes,” I breathe, but it’s not nearly enough. I need his cock. I need to be full with him.

Nick yanks my top down, letting my breasts spill out. He buries his face in them, kissing, licking, sucking, frantic in his need. I’ve never seen him so frenzied—so uninhibited—and it makes me wetter than ever. He notices the slickness coating the inside of my thighs, his mouth going slack as his fingers plunge deeper.

“Holy… I’ve never felt you so wet.”

I moan, hips canting helplessly into his hand. “I’ve never needed you this much.”

“Fuck.”

His eyes press closed, and he kisses me again, a wet, messy kiss of teeth and tongue, his breath hot on my neck as he presses close. He’s leaking into my palm now, and I use it to stroke, to draw a rough groan from his throat.

“Please,” he rasps. “Please, honey. I need to be inside you.”

I draw back to gaze at him in the light of the projector, eyes dark and hooded, cheeks flushed pink. He’s never looked more wrecked, more undone, and my heart squeezes tight at the sight.

“Please, Zinnia,” he begs again, as if I might actually deny him.

As if I could ever say no to this man.

I guide him to my entrance, dragging the tip of him through my wetness. His legs shake, and he braces himself on the edge of the filing cabinet, gaze locked on where we meet.

“I could come just from this,” he grits out, jaw tense.

I whimper, rubbing the head of him on my clit, his dick so hard the tip feels hot enough to burn. As much as it would turn me on to watch him paint me with his cum, I need him inside me.

I slide my hands around to grip his ass, and his eyes lock with mine, dust motes swirling between us in the dim light as he finally sinks inside me. His mouth falls open, and when he’s buried to the hilt, we both pause, reveling in finally being joined again.

The first thrust sends heat rushing into every corner of my body. I know he feels the same, because his hands come to my hips, gripping hard enough to bruise. Good. I want him to mark me. I want everyone to know I’m his.

I want things I’ve never wanted before.

“Nick,” I whisper, fingers twining in his hair.

“I know,” he rasps, breath hot as he kisses my neck, sucking on the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing and nipping at me. I hold his head there, pressing, and he bites down harder, the pain only heightening the pleasure.

“Yes,” I sob. “Leave a mark on me.”

“Fuck. Honey.”

He grabs my thighs, leaning over me until my back hits the wall behind, and drives in deep. The filing cabinet creaks under us, but he doesn’t stop. It seems like nothing would stop him now.

“I can’t stay away any longer,” he says, voice a raw scrape in my ear. “I won’t.”

I clench around him, pleasure building from both his touch and his words. That he missed me as much as I missed him. That he feels this as intensely as I do.

“I need you in my bed.”