Page 83 of Most Likely to Deny Love

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he growled against my lips, walking me backward toward the bedroom without breaking our kiss.

“What was stopping you?” I whispered, my fingers already working on the buttons of his shirt.

He smiled against my mouth. “Public decency laws.”

“As if you’d let that stop you.” I laughed, the sound quickly turning into a gasp as his teeth grazed my lower lip. We stumbled into the bedroom, illuminated only by the soft glow of a bedside lamp and the distant shimmer of Paris through the windows. Jack found the zipper of my dress, slowly dragging it downward as his lips traced a path along my jawline.

“I love the way you smell,” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. “Like vanilla and something that’s just... you.”

The dress slipped from my shoulders, pooling at my feet in a puddle of silver fabric. Jack took a step back, his eyes darkening as they swept over the lace bodysuit I’d chosen for tonight.

“Christ, Mia.” His voice was rough, reverent. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

I fought the urge to cover myself, to hide from his intense gaze. Instead, I stood taller, shoulders back, owning the curves that had been a source of insecurity for so long.

His fingertips traced the edge of the lace where it cut across my thigh. “Do something for me?”

“What?” I asked, my voice breathy with anticipation.

“Go stand by the window.”

I tilted my head, curious, but did as he asked, moving across the plush carpet to stand in the soft lamplight. The cool glass of the window was at my back, the warmth of the room at my front. I turned to face him, watching as Jack began to undress, his eyes never leaving my body.

First his shirt, revealing the toned chest and abs I’d spent hours exploring. Then his belt, the soft clink of metal making my pulse quicken. His pants followed, then his underwear, until he stood before me completely naked, magnificently aroused, his body a study in hard angles and powerful lines.

He crossed the room with deliberate steps, moving behind me so that I faced the window with the nighttime vista of Paris laid out before us. His arm slid around my waist, pulling me back against him, the hard length of him pressing against my lower back through the thin lace.

His other hand rose to my neck, knuckles grazing down the exposed side where my hair was swept over one shoulder. “Do you have any idea what it does to me when you wear your hair like this at work?” His voice was low in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “How many meetings I’ve sat through, unable to focus because all I could think about was kissing you right here?”

His lips replaced his fingers, pressing against the sensitive spot below my ear. I let my head fall back against his shoulder, a small moan escaping me as his teeth grazed the tender skin.

“I’d watch you across the conference table,” he continued, his hands sliding down to cup my breasts through the lace, “and imagine peeling off whatever sinful outfit you were wearing that day.” His thumbs circled my nipples, bringing them to stiff peaks. “I’d picture bending you over my desk after everyone had gone home.”

His hands continued their exploration, slipping beneath the lace to touch bare skin. I gasped when his fingers found the wetness between my thighs, already slick and ready for him.

I felt him shift behind me, the bodysuit pushed aside, and then he was pressing into me from behind, filling me with one slow, deliberate thrust. I gasped, my hands flying forward to brace against the cool glass of the window.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, one arm wrapped firmly around my waist while the other hand splayed across my stomach. “Let me hear you.”

He began to move. Slow, deep strokes that had me gasping with each thrust. The position was intimate in a way that made me feel both vulnerable and powerful. Through the window, the lights of Paris twinkled in the distance, a secret audience to our pleasure.

“Look out there,” Jack instructed, his pace never faltering. The dual sensation of his body moving within mine and the breathtaking view before us was overwhelming. Each thrust brought me closer to the edge, my breath fogging the glass as I moaned his name.

Just as the tension was building to an unbearable pitch, I pulled away, turning to face him. Jack’s eyes were dark with need, his chest rising and falling rapidly as I dropped to my knees before him.

“I told you I wanted to taste myself while you fuck my mouth,” I reminded him, my voice hardly recognizable to my own ears.

His nostrils flared, his jaw clenching as he stared down at me. “Are you sure?”

I answered by taking him into my mouth, tasting myself on his skin. His groan of pleasure was the most erotic sound I’d ever heard.

Jack’s hands threaded through my hair, guiding me as I took him deeper. “Fuck, Mia,” he groaned, his hips moving in a controlled rhythm. “Your mouth feels incredible.”

I looked up at him through my lashes, thrilling at the raw desire I saw in his face. His muscles were taut with restraint, the cords in his neck standing out as he fought to maintain control. Knowing I could bring this powerful man to the edge of his composure had me hot all over.

Without warning, Jack pulled back, his breathing ragged. He reached down, lifting me to my feet in one fluid motion. “I need to be inside you again,” he growled, lifting me and pressing me against the window.

His mouth crashed down on mine in a kiss that tasted of desperation and need. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pinned me to the glass. In one powerful thrust, he was inside me again, hitting places that made stars explode behind my eyelids.

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