Caught on Camera with the CEO by Natalie Anderson

wouldn’t be the place for public displays of lust,’ she choked. ‘Aren’t you too well bred for that?’
    â€˜Who said I was well bred?’ His hand slid higher up her thigh, the touch suddenly far more insistent.
    Dani gulped. ‘I thought you were staying away.’
    â€˜Was I?’
    â€˜Stop it.’
    Make me. He didn’t say it. He didn’t need to. He was so used to getting his way, wasn’t he? He understood the power of his charm. The way people had fawned over him tonight proved it. He thought he could get away with anything.
    And maybe he could.
    But Dani was suddenly filled with the urge to better him—just the once. The thrill of the challenge was irresistible, and what better way to drive away the shadows in his eyes from his frosty encounter with Patrick?
    â€˜All right.’ She turned towards him. ‘If this is what you want.’
    She lifted her hand to his face, ran her hand down his smooth jaw. Leaned closer and breathed in. She loved the light, crisp scent of his aftershave. She dropped her hand to his chest, feeling the beat of his heart and its acceleration, the heat of his skin burning through the shirt. Sizzling—that was Alex.
    She moved her hand again, placed it lower—far higher up his thigh than his fingers had ventured up hers. She twisted her wrist, spreading her fingers, stroking his already rigid length, encircling it and then squeezing.
    She was unable to stop her smile as he stopped breathing. His discomfort registered even more on his face. His mouth snapped shut, jaw went militarily square. She saw the ripple in his muscles as he struggled for control.
    She leaned closer, her mouth a millimetre from his skin, and teased him some more. ‘Dare you to walk across the dance floor now.’
    His breath hissed out between his teeth as he jerked, flinging far back into his seat and out of her reach. No, he wasn’t really into public displays at all, was he?
    Triumphant, she met his eyes, her smile widening with the thrill of the dangerous line she was treading.
    But then he moved. His grip on her upper arm was hard and he stood so fast that she stumbled as he hauled her up beside him. His other hand went around her waist, clamping her so she was just in front of him. He pressed his hot, hard body against her back. Insistent, he pushed her forward.
    She walked. She had no choice. Right across the dance floor.
    But he didn’t release her once they were clear; instead he guided her out of the room completely, down a corridor, and left, down another corridor.
    Halfway along that he swiftly turned her, his arms powerful as he pulled her close. He pressed her against him, one hand slid beneath the hem of her dress. Her knees sagged at the touch and he pushed her until her back hit the wall. But he kept pushing until his body was sealed hard to the length of hers. Save a scrap of satin, a whisper of silk and his strained trousers, they were as intimate as two people could physically be.
    Her gasp rasped in her ears and her most feminine muscles clenched instinctively, the hungry ache down low unbearable.
    â€˜Don’t play with me and think you can win.’ His words dropped into her ear like sparks of wildfire—igniting frustration, temptation and anger. He felt so good against her. So incredibly good. She gazed at him, anticipation smothering any chance of thought.
    â€˜My turn to dare,’ he taunted.
    Her awareness surged to new heights, her body supersensitive.
    â€˜Kiss me.’ He’d loosened his hold yet she couldn’t escape, couldn’t make herself push away the heat. Instead she wanted him closer again.
    Pleasure and satisfaction—his promise of both beckoned her. His fingers stroked her thigh, inching higher, then higher, delicately tracing across her soft skin and sending ripples of sensation out to the rest of her body—especially those secret parts.
    â€˜Kiss me.’ He