‘The membership dropped significantly in 2007 through eight financial years,’ I remark, scanning the documents.
‘The global financial crisis saw a twenty per cent dip across all luxury products and services,’ she fires back immediately, her eyes sparking when they meet mine. ‘You’ll see membership numbers increased on the original figures by 2011. Allowing for reciprocal member fees, the course has seen a seven per cent revenue increase in its membership base year on year.’
I make a note of it, my business mind working even when ninety per cent of me just wants to tell every suit in this room to get out so I can lift her onto the conference table and fuck her senseless.
She leans back a little in the chair, her expression focused, but her eyes meet mine and one corner of her lips lifts, just a fraction, just for a second, but it’s the sexiest, flirtiest smile I’ve ever seen. My cock throbs.
‘Thank you, Miss Llewellyn. That makes perfect sense.’
‘I’m glad, Mr Hart.’ She nods, turning her attention back to Orion Karakedes.
Three more hours. Three hours of detailed cost analysis, examining the insurance scheme; every single bit of information I could want to make this decision is right in front of me.
Three more hours and finally I’m up, shaking hands, nodding, telling Orion I’ll let him know in a couple of days. Thanking him for his time, being so patient when I am bursting with needs that absolutely require satiating.
Grace excuses herself and my eyes follow her to the door, daring her to turn around, compelling her not to leave. Not yet. Fuck.
At the door she spins, her eyes meeting mine, a smile hovering on her lips, a promise on that beautiful mouth. My groin squeezes.
I wrap the meeting up as soon as I can, declining the offer of a sunset drink in the penthouse, even when I probably should avail myself of every opportunity to survey the investment.
I stalk out of the meeting room and jab an impatient finger into the lift call button. I stand like a rock as I ride it up to her floor and then finger the key card in my pocket, where it’s been all morning since she slid it across the breakfast table to me.
I read the numbers as I stride along the corridor and finally, at her room, I slip the key into the locking mechanism and push the door open.
It occurs to me, once I’m in the room, that I probably should have knocked. But I’m not thinking straight. I’m not thinking at all.
‘Grace?’ I call, moving into the tiny room, a frown on my face. I hear the shower running and jerk in that direction. Now I do knock, once, hard on the bathroom door, before pushing it open. And freezing.
She’s in the shower, lathered up in soapy bubbles, wet and shiny all over, her breasts pert, her nipples tight, her stomach flat, her butt cheeks so gorgeous, and I groan because desire is flooding my body. Desire and a need for possession that almost bowls me over.
I strip my clothes, my eyes holding hers, and she runs her hands over her body, gliding fingertips to her breasts, palming them, so my dick pulses in my pants as I strip them from my body.
Her hands run lower and she tilts her head back as her fingertips find her sex, brushing over it while I watch, touching herself, and my hands ache to swap with hers. Yet I’m transfixed, watching her as though my survival depends on not looking away.
My body reverberates with need. I stand there, naked, and she rolls her head forward, moving her fingers faster, and her breathing gets louder. It galvanises me into action. I take the three steps necessary to bring me to the shower screen and pull it inwards, stepping inside and pressing my body to hers, pushing her back against the tiles, and my lips seek hers, my tongue pushing into her warm, moist mouth, my hands wrapping around her hips, curving
around her butt. I kiss her until I can’t think straight, until I can breathe again, I kiss her until she’s moaning my name into my mouth, her fingers scratching my sides, and then I drop down, crouching in front of her, water dousing my head as I roll my tongue over her seam, flicking her clit until her knees buckle and it’s only my hand at her hip holding her upright.
‘Finally,’ she groans, her fingers tangling in my hair, her body totally supplicant to this unearthly, raging pleasure.
‘Finally?’ I suck at her clit and she swears, her nails digging into my scalp.
‘The plane.’ The words come out tortured, just a suffocated invocation.
‘Ah.’ I smile, pulling away from her, kissing my way up her body, palming her breasts with sheer relief. ‘You have no idea how much I wanted to do this today.’ I bury my mouth at her shoulder, finding the mark I made the night before and sucking on her flesh again.
She whimpers, her body quivering with desire. I reach behind her, shutting off the water, and lift her slippery wet body up in my arms, stepping out of the shower, uncaring that we’re both soaking wet. I carry her to the bed and drop her in its middle. Seconds later, I’ve donned protection and I’m spreading her legs, staring into her eyes as I drive into her still-throbbing core.
She shudders and lifts her legs, clamping them around my waist, holding me deep inside her, but I grab her calves and lift her legs higher, over my shoulder. My name on her lips, my name fevered in her mouth, is a sound I will never forget. I drive my hard cock into her now and each time she cries my name she breathes it into the room and it stitches deep inside of me, cementing this desire as some kind of integral life force, something bigger than I’ve known before.
This feeling, this explosion, this moment—is perfection.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘CLEARLY YOU CAN’T sleep here.’
My breath is still strained, my body feels as though he’s blown me apart, cell by cell, and I’m still in the process of reforming myself to resemble a human. His words come to me from a long way away.