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I kiss him hard, pushing him back against the wall, and he takes a second to respond, perhaps surprised by my urgency, but then his hands find my hips and he’s holding me to him—as if I’d go anywhere—his fingers splayed over my dress so I want, more than anything, to be completely naked.

I’m driven by an ancient beating of a drum. I slide my hands under his shirt, connecting with the warmth of his chest, and groan because he’s ridged with muscles and, oh, so warm. I grunt, needing more, withdrawing my hands purely so they can work the buttons. I move quickly, kissing him, then pulling away to see what I’m doing, then kissing him again, until finally the shirt is loose enough for me to push it down, over his shoulders, along with his suit jacket. I’m rough and fast; both drop to the wall behind him and, when he shifts, to the floor at his feet.

‘Where’s your bedroom?’

There’s no time to climb the three flights of stairs though. I want him here, now.

‘This way.’ I kiss him again as I stumble backwards, his body seeking mine, mine needing his, our steps clumsy because we’re moving as one. His fingers push at the straps of my dress and I pause only to let him slide it down my hips so I can step out of it completely.

Then he jerks his head back, his eyes pinning me to the spot as he looks at me for several seconds. I’m not wearing a bra and his eyes linger on the curves of my breasts and my nipples tingle and tighten beneath his intense scrutiny.

But I don’t want to be looked at—even if it is with a level of admiration that’s its own aphrodisiac.

‘Fuck me,’ I demand, reaching for him again, one hand sliding into my underpants and shoving them down my legs.

‘Now.’

His laugh is throaty. ‘We’re still in a rush?’

‘I am.’

But his eyes have the power to haunt me because there’s something in their depths I can’t understand; for the briefest moment it gives me cause to wonder.

‘What?’

‘You’re just—’

‘What?’

‘Really fucking hot.’ He shakes his head, like he wasn’t expecting that.

‘Is that a problem?’ I’m reaching for him again, this time at belt-height.

‘No.’ If I had any intention of knowing him beyond tonight I might have asked him what the hell was going on but I don’t need to know in order to enjoy this.

‘Fuck me,’ I say again, pushing at his belt and zipper and lifting up to claim his lips once more. This time he lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and striding straight ahead, right into the room I directed him to.

‘This isn’t a bedroom.’

‘I know.’ I fumble for the light switch, illuminating my kitchen.

‘I thought we were—’

‘Use your imagination, Earl of Ashwyn.’ I nod towards the table on the other side of the room. Marble-topped and sturdy as anything, framed by a stunning view out over Noe Valley.

His grin is sheer sexy devil. ‘As you wish, m’lady.’

I laugh but the moment he sets my ass on the edge of the table I’m not laughing, because his cock is right between my legs and I feel a sharp burst of anticipation, swiftly followed by a need that almost knocks me sideways.

His pants are loose on his hips. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wallet and—thank God—a condom, his eyes on mine as he simultaneously pushes out of his pants and rips open the foil square. Before he can do anything further I take it from his fingers, a smile playing about my lips.

‘Allow me.’

His chest moves sharply with the intake of his breath. I grin, taking my time, letting my fingertips tease him, brushing his length lightly as I roll the condom in place, enjoying his obvious torment at the promise of what’s to come. At his base, I wrap my fingers around his length, squeezing a little until I hear a curse escape his mouth.

He has a great body. The thought comes to me out of nowhere but faced with him like this I can’t help but appreciate the form of his chest, the abdominal muscles, tanned, with a sparse covering of hair that arrows down his abdomen. His arms are muscled too, but lean and toned. I wonder again if he works out, or if he has a physically demanding job, then I shake my head a little because I don’t want to wonder anything about him.

As if reading my mind, he drops his head and kisses me, his hands roaming my body, cupping my breasts, his fingers running over my nipples, his cock edging closer until he runs a hand down my side to my butt, scooping me forward on the table so I’m right on the edge.


Tags: Clare Connelly The Notorious Harts Billionaire Romance