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I want him to touch me.

“Graham, please.” It’s a plea that I can’t contain.

I have never wanted a man more than I want him.

My breath hitches when his hand slides under the skirt of my dress.

“Lace,” he grits out as soon as his fingertips find my panties. “What color?”

“Red.” I somehow manage to get the word out before his lips are on mine again.

Our tongues dance against each other. The exploration is much more tentative than his hand. I can feel it gliding across my ass. Two fingers dip under the thin strip of lace covering my hip.

“I’m going to ruin these,” he warns before he rips the panties apart with a yank of his hand.

I hold in another moan and instead let two words out. “Not here.”

“Here,” he insists just as his fingers burn a hot path over my skin.

I kiss him deeper, wanting to taste him. He’s a heady mix of the wine we had at dinner and something minty. It’s intoxicating. My mind clouds with images of him fucking me here on the floor like two people too desperate to have the will to walk down a hallway and hide their desire behind a door.

As his fingertips trace a path over my pussy, a scream charges through me.

He catches it with a kiss so decadent that I drop one of my hands to the front of his pants.

I curve a palm around his erection. He’s thick and so hard that I want to drop to my knees and circle my lips around his shaft.

“Want to fuck you,” he grits out with my bottom lip between his teeth.

I fumble with one hand to undo his belt.

Common sense doesn’t have a part in this. Pure need is driving every motion of my body and every sound falling from me.

I tense when his finger finds my clit.

The hum that falls from his lips onto mine is enough to send my hips forward.

I ache for his touch and the promise of the pleasure, even though I fear the aftermath.

If he fucks me it changes everything.

I chase that thought away as I push closer, tempting him to take more. I want more. I want both of his hands on me. I want that mouth on my pussy, and I need that cock that’s still pressing against my palm.

A sharp noise stops us both.

Our lips part in slow motion, with an ache settling over mine almost immediately.

I lock eyes with my husband.

He doesn’t break our gaze even when the sound fills the silence again.

It’s a chime. A lure that is meant to take his attention away from me, but he ignores it.

I almost fall back into assistant mode and remind him to check his phone, but I want to be more important than whoever is trying to reach him.

He glances at my mouth, and I know what he’s thinking before the words leave his lips because they are primed on mine.

“I want my cock in your pretty little mouth.”

The words are so bold and uninhibited that I can feel desire pooling between my legs. He must feel it too, because he groans his approval as his fingers slide through my wetness.

“You’re so ready for me,” he says hoarsely. “You want my cock.”

I squeeze it through the rough fabric of his pants. “Only as badly as you want me.”

His eyes flare open. They’re wide with the same yearning I feel inside. “I’m going to fuck you here. Now, Trina.”

I hear it as a promise and not a threat.

I’m in such desperate need for his touch that I’d let him parade me naked down Broadway if I knew his cock was my reward.

His phone sounds once again, interrupting our need-fest with another chime.

“Goddammit,” he mutters under his breath with his lips pressed against mine.

I feel him slipping from greedy husband to devoted CEO, so I part my feet. It’s just enough to serve as a silent invitation to take more from me.

“Jesus,” he whispers when two of his fingers slide into my channel. “You’re tight. You’re so fucking tight.”

I close my eyes, not wanting him to see how badly I need him.

He heaves out a guttural groan just as his phone rings.

The sound cuts through the moment like a jagged knife.

He fingers me in a slow pace as his thumb hones in on my clit.

From beneath hooded eyelids, I watch him. His gaze is set to my face as his fingers go deeper. Each thrust into me is sure and skilled.

I close in on my orgasm with sharp, short jerks of my hips as he leisurely uses his fingers to take me there.

The phone quiets, but within the time it takes to catch my next breath, it starts ringing again.

With his eyes pinned to mine, his finger finds that spot inside of me that sends me into an immediate, intense climax.


Tags: Deborah Bladon The Buck Boys Heroes Romance