resist. He nibbled the tender skin just below her earlobe.
Her back arched against him, her head dropping back until it rested against his shoulder. “I thought you might be hungry.”
“I’m hungry, all right.” He nibbled again, nipping at the pulse pounding away at the base of her throat. “But not for food.”
He turned her in his arms and cupped her cheeks with his palms. “Where have you been hiding?”
She stared into his eyes, her green ones darkening. “I’ve been here all along.” Her gaze dropped to his lips and her tongue darted out, sliding across her own lips.
Mesmerized by that little pink tongue, Devin couldn’t deny tasting it for himself. He pulled her close, capturing her mouth beneath his, his tongue sweeping over the line of her lips until they opened.
He thrust in, conquering her mouth, slanting and sliding in and out, his movements feverish, agitated as if he couldn’t get close enough. The barrier of their clothing frustrated him.
His hands found the hem of her shirt and pulled it up and over her head, tossing it to a far corner.
The lacy white bra beneath held her firm breasts high, the rounded swells enticing him past redemption. He twisted, laying her out on the couch beneath him, his mouth traveling the length of her throat, down over her collarbone to the lovely breasts, rising and falling rapidly to the rhythm of her ragged breathing.
“Devin,” she gasped as his mouth closed over a nipple trapped beneath the lace of her bra. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
“I would think it obvious.”
“You aren’t delirious from lack of sleep?” she asked.
“I’m deliriously drunk from you.”
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“Never more certain.” He reached behind her, flicked the catch to her bra and slid the straps down over her shoulders, her breasts spilling free into his hands. They were pale like porcelain, tipped with strawberry-colored nipples, puckered into tight nubs, ready for plucking.
His mouth descended on one lush, ripe tip, drawing it between his teeth where he rolled it gently, nipping and licking.
A moan rose in her throat and her back arched off the couch, pressing her breast more firmly into his mouth.
All the tension, the worry, the latent frustration bubbled up inside him, driving a sense of urgency to get naked with Jolie, to take her, to ram into her over and over again until his lust was slaked, his desires sated and his energy consumed.
Pale, slim fingers reached out to flick open the buttons of his shirt, fumbling to push aside the fabric, exposing the skin beneath. He brushed her fingers aside and ripped the shirt off, buttons popping loose, pinging off the coffee table and wood flooring.
Her laughter warmed the air, her smile lighting the room. “I could have unbuttoned that and saved you a tailoring bill.”
“Damn the buttons,” he growled. He leaned on one arm, working the rivet on her short denim skirt. When he had no luck pushing it through the hole, he shoved the skirt up over her hips and ripped her panties down to her ankles.
“Hey, big guy. You may have a tailor on retainer. I don’t.”
“I’ll buy you new ones.” He jerked the fabric, the delicate lace ripping into shreds.
JOLIE LAY AGAINST THE SOFT leather couch, her breathing coming in ragged gulps, her body on fire, her skin deliciously sensitized to the cool air and warm fingers splayed out over her belly.
For six years she’d secretly imagined being naked with her boss. Fantasized about making love to him, his hands smoothing down over her body, his words of adoration and passion igniting her senses.
The reality was so much different than the dream. So much more vibrant, raw and exciting. She pulled at the belt around his middle, slipped the button loose on his suit trousers and slid the zipper down.
He sprang free, his erection long, thick and hot in her palm.
Her fingers curled around him and she stroked him, reveling in the sexy length of steel encased in velvet.
His body stiffened and he withdrew from her hands. “Not yet.”
She transferred her fingers to his torso, sliding up his chest as he moved down over her body, his lips blazing a path from her breasts, skipping over the wadded skirt to her navel and lower still.
Devin’s fingers found the patch of curls at the juncture of her thighs, parting the folds hiding beneath. When he touched her there, she gasped, her bottom rising up to meet his caress, her nerves on fire, her blood burning through every vein.
He flicked a finger over that sensitive nub, diving lower to delve into the warm moisture of her core.
“Oh, yes,” she whispered. This was so much better than any fantasy. So much more intense. All logic fled, the cool, collected executive assistant she’d been for six years dissolved into the seething inferno of molten heat. Her hand cupped his, pressing him deeper.
He stroked in and out, dragging her juices up to the center of her pleasure, gently teasing her to the very edge of sanity, pushing her past any defenses she’d so carefully erected between boss and employee.
She couldn’t remember her name, much less why this wasn’t a good idea. All Jolie could do was live for the next moment, the next touch of his fingers, his lips, the broad length of his erection.
Intense sensations built to a crescendo, spilling from her core to flood throughout her body. She jerked, writhed and called his name aloud as she clung to his arms, her fingers digging into his skin.
Still riding the wave of lust, she wanted him inside her, to fill her, complete her. With desperate hands, she dragged him closer.
He nudged her legs apart and slid between them.
Jolie cupped his staff and guided him to her opening, slick with her juices.
With the tip of his shaft pressing into her, he paused. “We can’t.”
Jolie whimpered, too entrenched in passion to understand what he was saying. “What?”
“Not without protection.”
“Oh.” Her fingers shook against his chest. “Do you have some?” She didn’t, and her body didn’t give a damn about it at this point. Every nerve ending screamed for him to ram into her, damn the consequences.
He lurched to his feet, let his trousers slide the rest of the way to the ground. Finally naked.
Jolie’s mouth went dry. Every fantasy she’d had of him naked didn’t come close to the stunning reality.
He was a Greek god, his body tanned, toned and rippling with muscles.
With her skirt bunched around her middle, her legs open and her hair in wild disarray around her head, self-doubt flooded her. How could a man who
