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My chest expands in awe. “Well, this is extreme.”
Barney is passed out on the carpet, and I step over him. Harrison stands behind me as I lift a rose out of one of the vases, inhaling its soft scent.
“I know you prefer lilies, but a thousand might be overpowering, as well as not Barney-resistant,” he says dryly.
“A thousand?! There are a thousand flowers in here?”
His lips curve against my neck. “I missed you.”
That mouth is seriously distracting, but Harrison’s admission sends a new kind of pleasure rippling through me. “They’re beautiful. But I figured you’d enjoy the bachelor life for a few days.”
“I enjoyed it once. I’m ready for something new.”
I arch my neck, pleasure spilling through my veins at his clever mouth on my skin. “Retirement?”
His teeth scrape me. “Careful, love. I can still keep you in line.”
“You could never keep me in line. That’s why you proposed,” I tease. “You couldn’t stand that there was a woman out there immune to your charms. It was a threat.”
Moving faster than I thought possible, he spins me to face him, then lifts me onto the table. My back hits the edge of the crystal vase, and he steadies it.
“Interesting theory,” he murmurs. “However, I’m not in the habit of bestowing tokens of my devotion on those who threaten me.”
“Pretty sure you’ve sent flowers to your enemies.”
He sinks to his knees and jerks my hips toward the edge of the table. “Not talking about the flowers.”
He shoves my skirt up around my hips, then twists the panel of my thong in his fingers.
Harrison spreads my knees wide, heat and approval in his eyes. “Every person in that club tonight wished they were lucky enough to do this.”
Pleasure and longing twist together, have my thighs shaking after hours of being on my feet. “I was pretty amazing.”
“You are fucking incredible.” The admiration in his voice is every bit as affecting as his words.
When he brushes a finger up my slit, my head falls back.
Over my shoulder, the Strip blinks in rainbows and neon. Hundreds of thousands of people living their own lives.
Here it’s only us.
He sinks a finger inside me, and my body clenches around him.
He takes his role as a lover every bit as seriously as his role as a CEO.
“You know what the worst thing was about being gone the past week?”
I shove my hair back over my shoulder. “You forgot how I taste?”
“No. I remembered. Every damned night, I remembered.”
His mouth plunges between my thighs. His tongue makes long sweeps of my slick skin, wicked circles that make my clit throb coupled with deep probing that mimics what he’s going to do to me soon.
Once, I would have been ashamed to give myself to a man like this.
Now, I need him like I need to breathe.
My fingers thread into his hair, my hips rolling, tiny movements that beg for more of this and him.
