his taut stomach, the tension in my muscles relaxing under the pressure of his fingers, even as a different kind of tension—the one situated between my thighs—got even tighter.
‘That was perfect,’ Blackwood murmured into the silence. ‘Fucking perfect. But I’m thinking I need to return the favour.’
Return the favour. Did that mean...?
Yes, of course that’s what it means.
I broke out in a sweat, a surge of adrenaline stealing my breath and putting my pulse into overdrive. I couldn’t tell if it was fear, excitement or a combination of the two. Probably a combo. Which shouldn’t work but somehow it did.
‘Well?’ he purred, his fingers gently massaging down the back of my neck, making me want to sigh in pure, sensual pleasure. ‘Would you like that, Sugar? Would you like me to put my mouth on you? Get you off the way you did for me?’
Another surge of adrenaline hit me, making me breathless. ‘Yes,’ I gasped out, before I had a chance to think twice. ‘I would like it.’
The massaging fingers stopped and I nearly moaned in protest as he drew them away, quickly sorting out his own clothing before helping me up off the floor. Once again he was gentle, handling me carefully as he urged me over to his desk, but nervousness collected in my gut all the same.
To distract myself, I looked around at the pristine work surface of his desk. ‘Is this really your office? Looks like you barely live in here, let alone work in here.’
‘I don’t work in here.’ He eased me up onto the desktop, his grip firm, urging me to sit back on it. ‘I’m not a fan of sitting still.’
My curiosity tightened, the instinct to get more information from him irresistible. ‘So where do you work, then?’
He gave me one of those wicked smiles. ‘In bed.’
Oh, yes, I could see him sitting in a massive bed heaped with pillows, wrapped in nothing but a crisp, white cotton sheet, all those colourful tattoos and hard muscles on show, tapping industriously on a laptop...
Warm hands wrapped around my ankles, easing them apart, and the image of him in bed working fractured then shattered. His fingers were so hot, painting fire on my bare skin, and he was watching me with that single-minded focus. As if I was the centre of his universe.
‘Let your knees fall open,’ he murmured, the look in his silver eyes making me dizzy.
I’d wanted to be in his spotlight and, now that I was, I could hardly breathe.
Slowly, I leaned back on my hands and let my knees fall wide, the fabric of my uniform sliding up, the subtle stretch of my inner thigh muscles a surprisingly erotic sensation.
‘Perfect.’ Blackwood pulled out the chair and seated himself at the desk, right between my thighs, as if he was sitting down for a meal.
And you’re his meal.
My heartbeat was louder than the music outside, my world narrowing down to his palms wrapped around my ankles, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin just beneath my ankle bone, striking sparks throughout my entire body.
‘Now...’ He ran those wicked hands up from my ankles to my calves, his fingertips hot on my skin, and then up farther to push my uniform even higher. ‘Let’s see you.’
I shuddered as he slid my uniform up to my waist, then shuddered again as his fingers moved to my inner thighs, stroking me as he eased them wide apart. My breath caught and I had to bite down on the low moan that threatened to break free, aware of every sensation: the burn of my muscles, the fire of his touch on my sensitive skin, the cool wood of the desk beneath me.
The throb of my sex and the wet press of the cotton of my knickers.
‘You still with me, Sugar?’ The words were as soft and dark as black velvet, his sharp, silver gaze searching my face as his fingers traced circles over my achingly sensitive skin.
I had to force the word out because my mouth had gone so dry. ‘Yes.’
‘You sure?’
My breathing had started to get out of control, the sound of it loud in the room. If I’d cared about it I would have been embarrassed. But I didn’t care about it.
There was a pressure between my legs, getting more intense and harder to ignore, and every move he made, every touch, seemed to increase the weight of it.
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ I croaked, my voice sounding old, rusty and a little bit broken.
He nodded and then, still holding my gaze, he reached up and hooked the damp fabric of my knickers to the side, baring me.
I gasped, unable to help it as his attention dropped between my thighs, making me flush and tremble. No one had ever seen me there before. The only people who’d seen me naked were the nuns at St Paul’s, the orphanage where I’d spent the first few years of my life. No one else.
But now he was looking at me. Damian Blackwood, womaniser extraordinaire, the biggest, most sought-after playboy and party animal in the western world, was looking at my bare sex and I was just about to go up in flames.
‘Beautiful.’ His gaze flicked up to mine and I could see heat in it, a hunger he didn’t hide. ‘Absolutely fucking sensational.’
My cheeks flamed. Feeling exposed, I wanted to close my legs and hide myself, but he must have picked up on my discomfort because his palms firmed on my knees, holding them where they were. Keeping me spread for him.
‘I just want to look.’ His quicksilver gaze was relentless. ‘But I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to, so you need to be sure.’
I forced down my nervousness because, as much as this was confronting for me, I wanted it. And I wanted him looking at me. I wanted that spotlight.
I wanted to know that I existed. And his hands on my skin, his brilliant silver gaze... He was making me real with every touch.
‘I am,’ I whispered.
‘Good. Because, I’ll be honest, I’m going to do more than look. I fucking love eating pussy and you smell goddamn delicious.’
The frank words made me blush even hotter and I couldn’t think of a word to say.
He smiled, charming and wicked, and something in my chest clenched tight. ‘Don’t worry, you don’t have to say a thing. Just lie back and let me do all the work, hmm?’
I gave a shaky nod, my vocal cords momentarily escaping my conscious control. And that was all he needed.
He leaned forward, his hands sliding up to my hips, pulling me towards him, right to the edge of the desk. Then he put his palms on my inner thighs, holding me open as he bent his head, and his breath washed over my skin. I trembled at the sensation of warmth, and then again as his mouth brushed my inner thigh, a gasp escaping me. The kiss was like a hot coal pressed to my flesh, only without the pain, delivering delicious heat and intense pleasure instead.
I’d barely got used to his mouth when
