appreciate—”
Before I can finish my sentence, his hands are on my arms, tugging me to his hard body, and his mouth is touching mine. I’m so shocked that I can scarcely accept what’s happening. His warm scent wraps around me, and my arms instinctively curl around his neck, my mouth opening against his lips.
His lips are like velvet.
I am in shock, but my body isn’t—my body has been waiting for this moment, and it responds forcefully to his touch.
“You must be trying to drive me fucking crazy,” he growls, right before he plunges his tongue into my mouth, tasting me.
The words release a coiled tension in my chest. My fingers seem to move on their own, sliding up to his neckline and stroking his soft hair. I touch his tongue with mine, and his grip tightens, then his arms wrap around my waist. My breasts swell and tighten against Dane’s firm chest.
I’m almost dizzy from the emotions and sensations battering through my body.
I cling to him like he’s the only source of warmth on earth. He kisses the way I thought he would, expertly and deftly, plunging into me and taking everything I have. That only stokes my own fires, makes me hotter for him.
This isn’t a controlled kiss. I’m seeing, tasting, touching, smelling, the real Dane. The one I only saw glimpses of before but crave with every fiber of my body.
My sex is tight, throbbing, sending out a rush of ripples to my limbs. Right now, all I can think about is how I want to strip his shirt off, lick him all over, rub my wet pussy against his masculine bare thigh and ride that friction close to orgasm. My need for him has made me hungrier than I’ve ever been in my life.
One of his hands caresses up my back, stroking the sensitive flesh along my spine as it travels, and I shiver. The fingers settle against my scalp and he pulls my hair, oh so slightly, making my nipples strain against my bra and my scalp tingle. His mouth pops off mine and he pants, eyes pinned hard on mine, chest rising and falling.
“What do you want, Emme?” he asks me in a guttural tone.
At first I’m confused by the question. Isn’t it clear what I want? Despite the fact that we just crossed a deadly line here, I can’t seem to regret what happened, and my body is screaming at me for us to continue kissing…and to do more. My fingers move down to his shoulders to grip him.
“Um,” I say, blinking the haze away. Sudden shyness has me stuttering. “I’m not sure… I…” The things I feel right now are blocked in my throat and won’t come out.
His brow becomes a deep groove, and I can feel the disappointment pouring off him. It dampens my arousal, makes my skin itch with embarrassment. I feel like I’ve let him down. I pull away from his embrace and step back, smoothing my clothes, my hair. Trying to gather my composure.
We’re in the office in the middle of the morning. Reality floods me with other sensory details, a cacophony of voices outside the room, the clacking of people typing, phones ringing, photocopiers humming.
What the hell am I doing? This is insane.
“No.” Dane’s softly spoken word jerks my attention back to him. “Don’t think right now. Just feel. Talk. Tell me what you want, Emme. You were completely open in your diary, but I need to hear it from your own mouth.”
“Why?” A hot flush burns my skin. I feel put on the spot. He read all my words—why does he need to hear me speak them, too? What kind of game is he playing here? Is this how he gets off, stripping women of all their guards and making them vulnerable to him? He never struck me as that type.
He growls with frustration and rakes a hand through his hair, then steps away from me until he backs up against his desk once more. I can see the moment the cool mask snaps into place, and a hot bubble of anger wells in my chest at the sight.
“You already know what I want, and it’s you,” I blurt out without thinking, the memory of our passionate kiss driving me to speak.