Page 85 of Salvaged Hearts

“Go out with me? Please,” he added with a chuckle. “Five. I had five, but you are unspeakably distracting.”

My gulp was humiliatingly audible. “Like, dinner and a movie?”

“I can do better than that,” he promised without hesitating.

“You want to…dateme?”

“I want to do a lot of things to you, Belle. But now that you’re legally mine, I think dating is an acceptable place to start,” he said before returning to tasting every inch of my neck and collar.

“Grey, I…”

“Yes?” he breathed against my clavicle.

“About last night.”

“Please, baby,pleasedon’t backpedal.”

“When I almost…”

Brows raised, he reared back to study my face before gently finishing my sentence. “Cried?”

“Yeah. I, um, that was intense for me.”

“Me too,” he agreed bluntly.

“Why do you…um. Why did you…” My eyes fell but only made it as far as his pecs, where they strained against the fabric of his fitted shirt, my fingers lifting to fiddle with a button. Some mindless carnal corner of my body wanted to tear it clean off, never mind the fact that my vagina was crying from its sudden overuse. Desperately, I tried to cling to the words I needed to say.

Why wasn’t I different? Why didn’t he trust me? Why couldn’t he finish with me?

But the more his hands roamed, the less coherent I became. “I know with other women you…Reggie.”

“I promise Reggie never crossed my mind, and neither did anyone else,” he swore, a seriousness in his eyes. “I can’t explain what this is, what we have, or if it’s going anywhere. For now,can we just see how this evolves? Because you were resplendent, Mrs. Hart. A fantasy I never dared to hope for.”

God, I loved the way he called me that. Loved the way he talked. Perhaps that fancy private school education was good for something after all.

The intensity in his gaze and the seriousness in his tone sent me babbling like an imbecile. “Thank you. You as well.I mean,you were beautiful.Arebeautiful.Handsome.” The more idiotically I spluttered, the broader his cocky smile grew. I palmed my forehead as his hands slipped beneath my dress. The instant his blunt fingers found the wet spot on my panties, that grin turned wolfish.

“Bent over your desk.” He stroked up my aching center, pressing the fabric into my arousal. “Bent overmydesk.” One finger hooked my panties aside, trapping the breath in my throat. I glanced over my shoulder, but the privacy screen kept us concealed. His free hand wrapped around my jaw, victory in his eyes when he brought me back to face him. “Pinned against that thick wood door.” One finger slid into my center, and my head fell back as pleasure captured me wholly. Greyson seized that opportunity to graze his teeth over my jugular before breathing, “On your knees, sucking me off in one of these damn office chairs.”

“What?” I breathed like some ditsy airhead, my hands coming to rake through his hair. Had he hit me over the head with a stupid stick? Anyone could walk through that door right now. We were inmyoffice,not his. There was no invisible barrier of terrifying CEO rules forbidding intruders.

“I’m thinking of all the ways I pictured taking you and trying to decide what comes first. Do you have a preference,wife?”

“Grey, someone could walk in.”

With that hesitation voiced, he scooped me off the desk and set me in said office chair before lowering himself onto all fours.

Greyson Hart.

Was on the floor.

Crawling between my thighs.In his outrageously expensive suit.

Dead. I was dead. This was the last fantasy my final electric impulses would gift me with before I met my maker.

Grey yanked my chair closer to the desk, where this madness would be at least somewhat concealed. With a devilish smile, he threw my leg over his shoulder. All the while, those smoldering hazels drilled into my face, savoring my speechless reaction.

“Still feel like talking, Mrs. Hart?” he asked as he hooked my panties aside with his thumb, lowering until he could breathe in my sex.

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