Mr. Temptation. Rachael Stewart

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Mr. Temptation - Rachael Stewart

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she whimpered.

      He was too hot, too seductive; her head was dizzy on it, intoxicated even.

      He slid his fingers beneath the waistband and she bit her lip in anticipation, watching as he pulled it down, pushing it to join her trousers at her ankles. She was about to step out of them all when his head dropped, his tongue sweeping inside her seam and making her cry out. She clamped her jaw shut, her knees buckling, and he gave a deep chuckle.

      ‘Seems you can’t keep quiet.’

      She looked down at him, his head cocked back, his chin resting teasingly above her strip of hair and her need took over, driving out the order, ‘Rather than criticise me, put your mouth to better use.’

      His eyes flashed and she rammed her fingers through his hair drawing him against her, absorbing his appreciative growl in the cluster of chaos between her legs. She was losing it in every way possible, her knees turning to jelly as she opened herself up to him, and rode his tongue, his teeth, every bit of friction he could give her.

      She grabbed at his shirt, felt his muscles rippling wildly as he worked her. She reached for his hand, tugging it back to where she needed it, across her mouth. He pressed her head back into the wall with it, his hold tight, her breaths rasping over his fingers as she struggled to take in enough air to fuel the crazy spiralling tension.

      She clawed at the wall again, her legs buckling further, and he used his shoulders to hold her steady and open, hungrily devouring her, sucking up her wetness, flicking wildly over her clit and layering it up with the bite of his teeth.

      The tension grew with punishing force and just as the handle to her office door shifted, she exploded, her entire body convulsing with an orgasm like no other. She bucked over him, her head falling forward, her muscles rippling wildly, and he held her to him, his head moving to press against her belly as he kept her upright through the waves.

      In her post-orgasm daze, she could hear the voices on the other side... ‘If it’s locked leave it’... ‘Thought I heard something though’... ‘Not for us to worry about.’

      The footsteps retreated, and she felt shyness creeping in.

       What the hell have you just let happen? In your office, of all places?

      And then he leant back on his haunches and met her eye, pinning her with the unrestrained heat of his need, and she knew exactly what she’d let happen and why, because, even in her sated state, her body was already on the up, her pulse kick-starting over its impulsive desire to please him. To strip him as bare as she and enjoy every last bit.

      * * *

      For a split second he sensed that same vulnerability, that same inkling that she wasn’t the feisty, controlled diva her exterior made her out to be. And then it was gone, her fingers pushing him back so that he had to splay his palms out, pressing them into the floor to stop himself back-planting completely.

      ‘My turn,’ she said, slipping one heeled foot out of her pooled clothing and then the other.

      Leaving her shoes on, she stalked towards him. All statuesque, confident and sexy as fuck. His blood rang in his ears, surging to the head of his dick.

      ‘Easy, tiger,’ he warned, not that it was aimed at her, but to his raging erection that was fit to explode any second.

      ‘Lose the shirt.’ She jutted her chin towards him, her silver-grey eyes as wild as her hair, her lips lifting in a one-sided smile.

      He’d never witnessed anything so sexy. Never been more turned on. He did as she asked, undoing each button while his eyes raked over her, devouring every last inch. The way her breasts were still pert, her breathing still hitched, the apex of her thighs still slick, her entire body begging him for more.

      Slipping the shirt from his arms, he heard the faint catch in her breath, saw her drag her lower lip inside and keep it there, her eyes lost somewhere between his pecks and his groin.

      She nudged his thigh with one heeled foot. ‘The rest.’

      His hands moved to his trouser fastenings of their own accord. He was torn between the pull of her mouth and the pull of her pussy—both wet, both slick, and everything his straining cock needed.

       Fuck, you can’t lose it like some out-of-control teen!

      He’d never had to worry about performing before. Why the hell was he having to now? He needed to get himself under control. He needed the situation under his control.

      Retracting his legs from beneath her, he stood and shoved off the remainder of his clothing.

      ‘I didn’t say stand.’

      It was a complaint that carried no force, her eyes now fixed below the waist, her mouth parted and hungry.

      ‘Needs must, angel.’ He bent for his jacket and retrieved his wallet, flipping it open. ‘I’ll make it up to you.’

      He extracted a condom and tossed the rest aside, trying to stop his eyes feasting on her but doing so all the same. She was exquisite and he was imprinting every curve into his mind for later perusal. ‘Turn around,’ he said automatically. He wanted the whole of her.

      She met his gaze, eyes wavering, and then she did as he asked, turning away slowly. He tore the packet open and sheathed himself, his eyes drinking her in. The crazy state of her cropped hair. The delicate frame to her shoulders as they undulated softly with her breathing. Her milk-like skin so pale and alluring. Right down to her narrow waist, softly flaring hips and that delicious bare ass, so pert and inviting. His cock leapt and he took a ragged breath, trying to rein it back.

       Get in control.

      He closed the gap between them and felt her jump a little as his cock nudged against her back.

      ‘You are exquisite,’ he whispered alongside her ear, his hands stroking at her arms by her side. She shivered, her skin prickling beneath his touch.

      ‘I want to fuck you over your desk,’ he murmured, his head dropping to the curve of her neck as he stroked down her belly, feeling it draw tight beneath his caress, her anticipation palpable as his destination became clear.

      ‘I want to fuck you there,’ he continued, his fingers finding her nest of curls and dipping inside, teasing the silky wetness apart, ‘so that every day you’re in here, you can remember it.’

      He found her beaded clit and she bucked wildly on a moan, her head arching into his shoulder, and he clamped his jaw shut as his cock pulsed wildly into her back. Kristus, he’d never known someone so responsive, so genuinely lost.

      Her hands flung back to grip at his thighs, her pelvis tilting into his touch.

      He stroked her, lapping up every little whimper, every escape of air. He gazed down her front, between her small, tantalising tits to where he worked her, and let his free hand trail along her collarbone, his touch barely there as it teased a path to one taut peak. He brushed across it and her head writhed against him, her whimpers increasing. He did the same to the other and her nails bit into his skin.

      She was close, her rocking becoming jagged, full of tension. Grabbing her by the hips, he swung

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