Page 6 of Sizzling Desire

The cool air of the room makes me shiver, but Kane's warm hands are there immediately, cupping my flesh. I can't help the moan that escapes me as his thumbs brush over my hardened nipples.

"You're breathtaking," he whispers, his voice filled with awe.

I blush, feeling vulnerable yet empowered under his intense gaze. "Touch me," I plead, my own voice barely recognizable, thick with desire.

Kane doesn't need to be told twice. His hand trails down my stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake. My breath hitches as his fingers dip beneath the waistband of my panties. I gasp, my hips bucking involuntarily as he slides a finger along my wet folds, teasing my most sensitive spot.

"Kane," I whimper, my mind clouded with pleasure. "I need... Please," I whisper, my voice hoarse with need. "I need you inside me."

My words hang in the air, heavy with desire. Kane's eyes darken, pupils dilating as he drinks in the sight of me. His fingers still tease me mercilessly, sending jolts of electricity through my body. I'm trembling, every nerve ending on fire, desperate for more.

Kane chuckles darkly, his breath hot against my skin. "As you wish, beautiful."

His lips brush against my ear as he speaks, and I shiver at the promise in his voice. My heart races, anticipation building within me. Kane's free hand traces the curve of my waist, his touch both hurried and possessive.

I clutch at his shoulders, fingers digging into thetaut muscles. The scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering vodka on his breath intoxicates me further. I'm drowning in sensation, lost in the moment, craving the ultimate connection between us.

In one swift movement, Kane unbuttons his jeans, freeing his hard length. I feel him hot and throbbing against my thigh, and a shiver of desire courses through me. He positions himself at my entrance, and with one swift thrust, he fills me, stretching me deliciously.

I cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders as he begins to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. The conference table creaks beneath us, the sound of its protests adding to the eroticism of the moment. Kane's eyes never leave mine, burning with intensity.

The sound of our flesh slapping together fills the room, the heady scent of arousal mingling with the scent of expensive leather. Our pace quickens, our breathing ragged and uneven. My orgasm builds, coiling tightly in my abdomen, as Kane pounds into me relentlessly.

"Kane," I moan, my back arching as the pleasure builds. "Oh god, I'm... I'm..."

"That's it, beautiful," he grunts, his voice strained with effort. "Let go for me. I want to feel your release around me."

With those words, my climax rips through me like a tidal wave, obliterating all thought and reason. I cry out his name, my body shuddering and convulsing around him as he, too, loses himself, moaning my name like a prayer.

We lay here, entangled on the conference table, our hearts still racing. He brushes the hair from my face, his dark eyes softening. “That was…” He trails off, searching for words.

My mind instantly catches up with my actions. I can’t believe what I just did and withKane, no less. I jump up quickly, putting myself back together again as I stumble off the conference table barely able to standon my own two feet.

“Gracie. What’s wrong? What’s happening here?” He asks as he stands there watching me with his cock still hanging out of his jeans.

I make it to the door and turn around to face him while waving my free hand through the air, “Thisneverhappened.” I turn the knob and bolt out of the door and back through the crowded bar, ducking my head so not to catch the eyes of my friends. I don’t need them to know what I just did.

I can barely believe it myself.

Chapter 2

Kane

The pounding in my skull is relentless, each throb a brutal reminder that I drank more than I should have last night. Sunlight slices through the blinds like a knife, and I groan, throwing an arm over my face as if that will make it stop. It doesn’t. My mouth is dry as sandpaper, and the stale scent of vodka clings to my skin.

But the hangover is the least of my problems.

It’s the memories that hit me next—blurry at first, like a bad dream clawing its way into focus. Then they snap into clarity with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball. Gracie. Her eyes sparking with fire, her voice sharp enough to cut glass, the way she marched toward me at Hooplas, daring me to push her buttons.

And I did. God help me, I did.

I sit up too quickly, the room spinning as I brace myself against the mattress. Remembering her lips on mine, her body pressed against me, the heat between us scorching every ounce of reason I had left. It wasn’t supposed to go that far. Hell, it wasn’t supposed to go anywhere. Yet here I am, the taste of her still lingering on my lips, her voice echoing in my head.This never happened.

I glance at the empty space beside me. Of course, she’s not here. She bolted, leaving me to pick up the pieces and try to figure out what the hell happened.

Dragging a hand through my hair, I try to make sense of it. One minute we were tearing into each other with insults, the same way we always do, and the next? We were tearing each other apart in a whole different way. A conference table, for god’s sake. Me and Gracie. That’s a line I never thought I’d cross.

I stumble to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face in a desperate attempt to clear my head. It doesn’t work. Her image is burned into my brain—flushed cheeks, wild hair, the way she whispered my name like it was something sacred.

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