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Or maybe I change it for her as I threaten to bury my tongue deep inside her.
Her body arches against the chair, eyes screwing shut as she falls apart. Fucking amazing.
All that and with her panties still on.
Her body twists away, and I let her go. This time.
Scooping up her almost boneless form, I carry this rare treasure to her bed and set her down.
“Take off your panties.” My voice is low and rough from need, and her eyes flare at my tone. Or maybe she likes being told what to do. I slot the little insight away, and watch as she shimmies her wet panties down her legs.
“I want to see you too,” she whispers.
“I’m getting there.” I pop the button on my jeans.
Reaching back between my shoulder blades, I pull off my T-shirt, her touch immediate against my skin. My pecs, my ribs, down over the planes of my stomach, her fingers are five hot points of contact that drives me wild. She bites her full bottom lip as she reaches the trail of downy hair.
Her hand slips into my jeans, and I make a low groan as her fingers close around my cock. Hiss a curse as she pulls it free.
“I want you in my mouth,” she whispers, her tongue flicking over my crown.
“Jesus, Clara.” I make a pained groan as she puts her lips to the head before swallowing me down, down, down.
Where I want to thrust, I don’t. When I want to take control, instead, I thread my fingers together at the back of my head. I watch as she explores me, fucking revel in her mouth and tongue as she works every part of me she can reach. Her hair tickles my taut abs as her mouth disintegrates every one of my brain cells. She’s so fucking good at this, soft lips, tight mouth, and sloppy tongue.
“You look so good, baby.” Despite removing my hands from the equation, my body, my words, urge her on. “Yeah, like that, just like that. Oh, God. You’re gonna make me come.”
She hums, and looks up. Fuck, I think my heart might be about to burst. Or maybe my balls. And that wouldn’t do at all.
“Come here,” I grate out before I get too carried away. I drag her mouth to mine. Suck on her tongue. Lay her back on the bed as I slide my hands along the sensitive insides of her thighs. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” The compliment is low and rough as I shuck out of my clothes and suit up, enjoying the way she watches.
“I can’t believe we’re finally here,” she whispers as I kiss my way up her body, shaking, aching, not quite able to believe my luck. “It’s like a dream, right?”
“You’re the dream, and I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” I part her with my thumb, watch the digit grow wet as I push it inside. She arches and gives a soft sigh. “This is such a pretty pussy.”
“Troy, please.” The way she pulses for me.
I swap my hand for the real thing, my body over hers. Poised over her, our chests expand with something like a synchronized breath as I push my way inside her for the very first time.
The feel of her . . . I have no words as I still, holding us there. This is everything, the exquisite way we fit, how her heart beats against mine, and the trusting way she looks up at me.
With my body and my heart I promise that I’ll be careful, careful in a way I’ve never been with anyone or anything. Because if Clara Forbes can choose me, the least I can do is be the man who proves her instincts are right.
Chapter 13
Troy
“You got a minute?” It’s gone six when I stick my head around Max’s office door. The sky has darkened as his fingers hammer on the keyboard, the slump of his shoulders reflecting in the window.
“Give me a few,” he says without looking up.
I step into his office, closing the door behind me. This is not a conversation I want to have, let alone want others to overhear.
His fingers continue to rain down whatever legal hell that is as I wander around his office, hands slunk low into my pockets.
The space is about the same size as mine, the aspect from the windows likewise. Difference is, his office looks like it’s used. A pile of legal pads has been stacked haphazardly on the conference table; a multitude of framed degrees and diplomas leans against one wall. In the place of art, he has bookcase after bookcase full of legal tomes standing straight as the man himself.
I scan a few of the dark leather-bound books. Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, employment statutes, labor laws, the list of books goes on and on. His desk is cluttered with more of the same, books and files, some of them open. Others have pens and shit keeping a place.
