Page 50 of Breaking His Law

“Plans?” He questions my vague responses.

“Yes, plans. Unlike you, Idohave a life outside of work.”

“I doubt that. You’ve been here working until midnight almost every night.”

I scoff at his arrogance. “My world doesn’t revolve around you, Nathan.”

He tuts, shaking his head. “You’re fucking wrong about that, baby.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Whatever.” I feel snarky. “See you tomorrow. Be sure to lock the door. That’s if your head will fit through it, it’s that big.” I don’t manage even one step back up the aisle, because quicker than I can comprehend I’m being pushed against the shelving unit and Nathan’s mouth is on mine, taking what he wants, anything I’ll give him. The files I was holding on to drop to the floor, scattering paper everywhere.

I wrap my arms around him because I’ve been longing to touch him again.

My gasps of relief and pleasure get swallowed by him when his hands find my neck and he tilts my chin up, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, as if he’s trying to crawl inside my body.

I’m defenseless against his intoxicating kisses that have heat pooling between my legs, my skin flushing with desire as it spreads across my skin.

He presses himself flush against me, and with one hand firmly grasped around my neck, the other explores the contours of my body as we breathe against each other heavily, our lips sealed together in the perfect kiss.

When I pull my hips to meet his, he rubs his hard cock against my stomach, and we both groan into each other’s mouths at the same time.

Our tongues mouth fuck each other, teeth clattering, tongues sliding, licking, enjoying every single desperate second, working in perfect harmony.

I tilt my hips to ease the pulsing sensation in my pelvis when Nathan deepens our kiss, which I didn’t think was possible, my heart racing faster than a bullet out of a shotgun.

Sliding my hands up over his sculpted back, I run my nails down the cool fabric, feeling every muscle contract as he groans my name.

“Your smart mouth is my fucking undoing, baby,” he mumbles against my lips.

If I’d known that I wouldn’t have said anything, or maybe I should have been even more brat-like because the little devil on my shoulder seems to like the way he responds to my impertinence.

“Did you touch yourself the other week?” he asks, panting between our illicit kisses.

“No.” My body thinks it belongs to him. I couldn’t bring myself to touch myself; it’s him I want. I’m more frustrated than a romance novel character left on a cliffhanger without her happy ever after.

What am I thinking? My body does not belong to him, or anyone. It’s just a trick of my imagination, that’s all it is. The chemistry is not real.

And yet I find myself experiencing this infuriating pull toward him, which disgusts me because I like him more than I should.

He gives my neck a squeeze in appreciation. “Good girl.” His lips leave mine, before he peppers kisses over my jaw.

My body responds, feeling about a million degrees hotter, loving the way he calls me his good girl every time I do something he approves of.

“Did you jerk off while thinking about me?” I don’t know why I’m asking if he touched himself. I gasp when he licks the shell of my ear.

“You’re all I can think about, Arianna.”

Was that a yes?

His next confession has me wanting to shed my clothes and ride his face until I’m chanting his name like a tantric meditation.

He admits, “I can’t sleep; eating feels pointless. I don’t know what is happening to me.” Laying much softer kisses than before over the pulse point of my neck sends shivers across my heated skin, my body humming with happiness.

How long can I keep denying the passion and fire that is burning between us?

“Come with me to the ball,” he whispers in my ear, sending tingles down my spine and deep in my core.

“I can’t.” I want to but I know if I accept his invitation, it will be yet another bad decision of mine.

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