Page 105 of The Donor’s Dilemma

“Part payment?” she asked, finally finding her feet again and rocking her hips into his hand.

Theo chuckled. “I guess that could work.”

“Yeah?” she asked.

She felt one last hard spank then his fingers were inside her, a second quickly joining the first. He held her down, pumping until she cried his name. The impossible wave of want that had been building since the first slap, the first kiss, since the moment his hand caressed her knee broke. Her scream was obscene. Shaking, tumbling waves hitting her as she gasped for breath, body ceasing as Theo dragged out every tremble.

Only when she hit her descent, he didn’t stop.

Pulling her up again he kissed her neck, one hand cupping her breast, the other travelling between her legs. He resumed teasing her, rolling her nipple and clit in unison, both far too sensitive for his touch.

“Theo,” she gasped. “I can’t… I…”

“You know what to say,” he whispered against her neck.

No. She wouldn’t.

She let her head fall back, breathing through the overwhelm until she felt a second orgasm build and there was only one thing she could think about.

“Bite me,” she moaned, meeting his eye when he paused his kissing. His lips were already close to the first bite mark, and she was overtaken by the need for him to bite her again. To erase the first with one made in passion. “Please.”

Verity’s first orgasm had been little more than a ripple in the shallows compared to the tsunami that engulfed her. Body and soul turned to blinding light as Theo pressed hard against her clit and sank his fangs into her neck.

White stars burst. Her lungs emptied. Every bone in her body melted to nothing. All that existed was what he touched. What Theo held.

There was a brief sensation of falling and then she was sat in his lap, gasping for breath. Kisses peppered her neck, her hair, her cheek. Crisp white with a smudge of black rested against her face. Mascara on his shirt. Fuck.

Pulling back, she wiped at her tear-soaked cheeks.

“Your shirt,” she started, and Theo looked down.

“Worth it,” he said, pulling her into another kiss.

Well, this wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all.

Finding her composure, Verity twisted until she straddled him in the desk chair. She’d always thought the thing ridiculous for its size, but she supposed it could have its uses.

He reached for her dress and did up the first button before she could slap his hand away.

“Don’t bother,” she said.

“No?” he mused, leaning back to watch as Verity slid her hands down his chest.

“No,” she said, undoing his belt buckle.

The moment she had access, Verity reached for him. He was ready for her. One stroke through his boxers and Theo’s hard length twitched in her hand. She leant over him, kissing his lips with deliberate slowness as she stroked him. He purred for her, hips flexing when she scratched her nails through the thin fabric.

If she were a patient woman, Verity would have teased him, paid him back for his ministrations. But any patience Verity had evaporated a long time ago.

With one last kiss she slid from his lap, until she knelt in front of him. His grin was wicked as she began pulling down his trousers, taking hold of his boxers and…

His hands clamped on hers, hard and cold. Eyes wide. A curse on his tongue.

He was out of the chair. Pulling Verity to her feet. Pulling up his trousers and fastening the buttons on her dress. He uttered just one word.

“Harris.”

Verity almost fell over in her desperation to get out from behind the desk, buttoning her dress and…