Page 7 of Her Irresistible Husband

He was to be her first.

In every way.

The thought was more addictive than any drug, causing Wynd to kiss her hard and deep, his mouth swallowing her soft whimpers as his hands roamed her body with a hunger he hadn't felt in years.

His mouth descended, his lips suckling one hardened peak through the lace of her bra, and she cried out like his touch was fire.

Every sound she made, every tremor that rocked her body—everything she did was exquisitely real, her every reaction driving Wynd to the edge of madness.

He lavished attention on her breasts, alternating between gentle sucking and the scrape of his teeth, until she was writhing against him and making the sweetest sounds he'd ever heard. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, his hair, anywhere she could reach.

"P-Please..."

She might not know what she was begging for, but Wynd did, and so he increased the pressure of his mouth, sucking harder through the delicate lace until she finally shattered, her back arching as she climaxed with a cry that echoed through the empty boardroom.

The sight of her falling apart from just his mouth on her breasts was the most erotic thing he'd ever witnessed, but what shocked him more was how, even with her whole body still trembling with the force of her orgasm—

Star's eyes fluttered open, her lips forming a soundless word.

Wynd.

And then she was reaching for him, her own womanly instincts seemingly taking over, her small hand pressing against the hardness straining his trousers.

The innocent touch was Wynd's doing, a violent shudder jolting through his body as he spilled himself like some untried youth who'd never learned control.

For long moments, neither of them moved. She remained seated on the edge of his boardroom table, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her hair mussed and her lips swollen from his kisses. He stood between her legs, his hands still gripping her waist, unable to make himself step away.

This wasnotpart of the plan.

Wynd Sullivan never lingered after sex.

He fucked, he left, and he never looked back.

But something about Star made all his carefully constructed rules seem meaningless.

He found himself stroking his thumbs along her ribcage, mesmerized by the way she leaned into his touch like a cat seeking warmth. Her skin was delicate and soft beneath the cotton of her dress, and he wanted to strip her bare and memorize every contour of her body.

He was obsessed with this woman.

And it was this that had Wynd forcing himself to step back.

He reached for the discarded tablet on the table with grim resolve, her curious gaze on him as he scrolled to the documents his lawyers had prepared.

"Wynd?" Her voice was soft, uncertain.

He kept his eyes on the screen, not trusting himself to look at her, not when she was still sitting there looking like an innocent temptress.

Wynd wanted to get this part over with.

But it was not to be, with Star once again throwing his whole world out of order at the gentle pressure of her small hand against his chest, right over his heart.

She voiced his name again, the sound reaching his ears like an invitation his entire being found impossible to deny.

His gaze met hers, and he saw the way she was looking at him searchingly.

End it now, Sullivan.

"Is it okay—"

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