prayer. “ Yes .”
So goddamn wet. So fucking hot. The inferno in the room seemed to be inside him now.
Inside her as he sank deep. Tight and soft, she gripped him in a fiery fist, holding
him there while he clamped his hands on her thighs and spread her wide.
Slowly he drove deeper, noting with satisfaction that she still watched her face in
the mirror. He did, too, riveted by the sight of her mouth widening every time he
inched in farther. Her lashes fluttered and her taut nipples jutted when she bowed
back, still maintaining that link between them in the glass.
He anchored his hands on her waist and tightened at the feel of her coiling her legs
around his hips. She clasped him deep, rippling around him in silent supplication.
He traveled as far as he could go, then changed the slant of his thrusts when her
desperate moans demanded more. He was already steeped in her, her relentless need
twining urgent ropes of desire around his throat. His cock.
His heart.
She pressed her heels against his ass and drew her lean, impossibly toned body up,
arching in an erotic bridge he thanked the yoga gods for. Then he was plunging into
her, mindless to everything but the feel of her squeezing him from root to tip. Wrenching
more pleasure from him than he’d believed he was capable of feeling. Blowing through
his limits until they were shattered roadblocks on the way to the bliss he’d found
in her sweet, selfless body.
He’d lost all control. She’d pushed him to the point where there was nothing but her
and him, and the magic they made together.
When the orgasm finally overtook her, the most lovely smile he’d ever seen in his
life crossed her face. As she succumbed, he did, too, in long, endless pulses that
shuddered through him and flowed into her, extending her climax. She twitched around
him, prodding another groan from his throat.
She’d completely wrecked him.
Eventually he shifted them onto their sides on the mat. Playfully, she walked her
fingers up his stomach, but he couldn’t even dredge up a smile. His chest felt too
tight, as if his overheated skin had shrunk. His heart was still racing. Maybe he
needed to up his cardio.
“Tired?” she teased.
“It’s been a while.” He grimaced at the pile of his discarded clothes, wishing he
didn’t have to go back to work for the first time in forever.
With the new stores opening soon, he had a million things to handle. He didn’t do
days off, nor did he take extra-long dinner breaks. Along with the usual tasks, there
was the upcoming magazine launch and his parents’ looming retirement. He’d think of
more, once his synapses figured out how to fire again.
Other parts of him he’d given up—temporarily—as casualties of war.
She sifted her fingers through his chest hair. “What’re you thinking?”
He glanced at her enthusiastic smile and his aching chest locked up. In another minute
she’d rest her head on his shoulder, and he’d be confronted with all he wasn’t. Maybe
he’d fooled her for the moment, but the truth always came out.
She wasn’t going to find his workaholic ways satisfying for long. Soon she’d be bopping
on to new adventures and he’d be left just…left.
He opened his mouth to speak just as his phone went off in his jacket. He stood and
walked over to where he’d dropped it, then snatched his cell from his pocket, never
more grateful to hear his secretary’s voice. There was an issue at one of the rental
properties and she couldn’t reach Dillon. Could he come in right away?
Oh yes, he could.
“I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up.
His eyes met Victoria’s. “I have to go. Dill’s unavailable and there’s an issue at
the Rison. Nancy needs me to come in.”
She frowned and he swiped off the perspiration on his forehead. If only he could shed
the guilt as easily. “Right now? Can’t you stay for a few?”
“Sorry, Nancy’s waiting. But
So goddamn wet. So fucking hot. The inferno in the room seemed to be inside him now.
Inside her as he sank deep. Tight and soft, she gripped him in a fiery fist, holding
him there while he clamped his hands on her thighs and spread her wide.
Slowly he drove deeper, noting with satisfaction that she still watched her face in
the mirror. He did, too, riveted by the sight of her mouth widening every time he
inched in farther. Her lashes fluttered and her taut nipples jutted when she bowed
back, still maintaining that link between them in the glass.
He anchored his hands on her waist and tightened at the feel of her coiling her legs
around his hips. She clasped him deep, rippling around him in silent supplication.
He traveled as far as he could go, then changed the slant of his thrusts when her
desperate moans demanded more. He was already steeped in her, her relentless need
twining urgent ropes of desire around his throat. His cock.
His heart.
She pressed her heels against his ass and drew her lean, impossibly toned body up,
arching in an erotic bridge he thanked the yoga gods for. Then he was plunging into
her, mindless to everything but the feel of her squeezing him from root to tip. Wrenching
more pleasure from him than he’d believed he was capable of feeling. Blowing through
his limits until they were shattered roadblocks on the way to the bliss he’d found
in her sweet, selfless body.
He’d lost all control. She’d pushed him to the point where there was nothing but her
and him, and the magic they made together.
When the orgasm finally overtook her, the most lovely smile he’d ever seen in his
life crossed her face. As she succumbed, he did, too, in long, endless pulses that
shuddered through him and flowed into her, extending her climax. She twitched around
him, prodding another groan from his throat.
She’d completely wrecked him.
Eventually he shifted them onto their sides on the mat. Playfully, she walked her
fingers up his stomach, but he couldn’t even dredge up a smile. His chest felt too
tight, as if his overheated skin had shrunk. His heart was still racing. Maybe he
needed to up his cardio.
“Tired?” she teased.
“It’s been a while.” He grimaced at the pile of his discarded clothes, wishing he
didn’t have to go back to work for the first time in forever.
With the new stores opening soon, he had a million things to handle. He didn’t do
days off, nor did he take extra-long dinner breaks. Along with the usual tasks, there
was the upcoming magazine launch and his parents’ looming retirement. He’d think of
more, once his synapses figured out how to fire again.
Other parts of him he’d given up—temporarily—as casualties of war.
She sifted her fingers through his chest hair. “What’re you thinking?”
He glanced at her enthusiastic smile and his aching chest locked up. In another minute
she’d rest her head on his shoulder, and he’d be confronted with all he wasn’t. Maybe
he’d fooled her for the moment, but the truth always came out.
She wasn’t going to find his workaholic ways satisfying for long. Soon she’d be bopping
on to new adventures and he’d be left just…left.
He opened his mouth to speak just as his phone went off in his jacket. He stood and
walked over to where he’d dropped it, then snatched his cell from his pocket, never
more grateful to hear his secretary’s voice. There was an issue at one of the rental
properties and she couldn’t reach Dillon. Could he come in right away?
Oh yes, he could.
“I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up.
His eyes met Victoria’s. “I have to go. Dill’s unavailable and there’s an issue at
the Rison. Nancy needs me to come in.”
She frowned and he swiped off the perspiration on his forehead. If only he could shed
the guilt as easily. “Right now? Can’t you stay for a few?”
“Sorry, Nancy’s waiting. But
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