Page 14 of Legacy Of Ashes
"We'll handle that then."
His control shatters. I see it happen, feel it in the tremor of his hand against my skin. The careful distance he's maintained for years dissolving like smoke.
"You're going to destroy me," he whispers.
"I'm counting on it."
When his mouth crashes against mine, I taste whiskey and want and years of suppressed hunger. His hands tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as I press against him. The maps crinkle beneath us as he lifts me onto the desk, settling between my thighs.
This time, no footsteps interrupt us.
This time, neither of us plans to stop.
His mouth moves to my throat, teeth scraping sensitive skin. "Tell me to stop."
"Never."
He groans against my pulse, hands gripping my hips, pulling me tighter against his hard length. "Saoirse."
"I've wanted this since I was eighteen."
"Christ." His forehead drops to mine. "You have no idea what you do to me."
"Show me."
His eyes burn into mine, all pretense stripped away. "You want to know what you do to me? You walk into a room and I can't think straight. You order a warehouse burned and all I can think about is how badly I want to bend you over this desk and fuck you until you scream my name."
Heat explodes between my legs at his words. My underwear grows damp as I imagine exactly that. "Then do it."
"If I start, I won't stop."
"Good."
He claims my mouth again, harder this time, all restraint gone. His hands slide under my blouse, fingers finding the edge of my bra. When his thumbs brush my nipples through the lace, I arch into him with a gasp.
"You're so responsive," he growls against my lips. "I wonder how wet you are for me."
My breath catches as his hand slides up my thigh, under my skirt. His fingers trace the edge of my underwear, making me whimper.
"Tell me you want this," he demands.
"I want this. I want you." The admission tears from my throat.
His fingers slip beneath the lace, finding me slick and ready. "Fuck, you're soaked."
I cry out as he strokes me, my hips bucking against his hand. Years of fantasy pale against the reality of his touch.
"That's it," he murmurs, adding pressure. "Let me hear you."
The door could open. My father could return. None of it matters.
Twenty years of waiting burns away as he works me closer to the edge, his mouth swallowing my moans.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
"You need to stop moving,"Conall growls from behind me.
