Page 26 of Legacy Of Ashes
"Saoirse." My name sounds like a warning.
"I've wanted you since I came back from Oxford." The confession spills out. "I touch myself thinking about you. About what your cock would feel like inside me."
His breathing changes, becoming ragged. "Christ, you can't say things like that."
"Why not? It's true." I slide my hand up his chest, feeling his heart race beneath my palm. "I know you want me too. I've seen the way you adjust yourself when you think I'm not looking."
He catches my wrist, but doesn't push me away. "Your father would kill me."
"My father doesn't own my pussy." The crude word makes him groan. "Besides, he's not in charge anymore. I am."
His control wavers. "You have no idea what you do to me."
"Show me."
Something snaps in his expression. His hands frame my face and his mouth crashes down on mine. The kiss is fierce, desperate, years of restraint exploding into pure need.
I melt against him, finally understanding why every other man left me cold. This is what I've been craving. Him.
His hands slide down to grip my waist, lifting me onto the desk. Documents scatter as he steps between my thighs, his mouth never leaving mine. I wrap my legs around him, feeling his thick erection press against my core through our clothes.
"Fuck," he breathes against my lips. "I've dreamed about having you on this desk."
"Then take me." I bite his lower lip hard enough to make him hiss. "I'm so wet for you already."
He groans, his hands sliding up my thighs beneath my skirt. "You're going to be the death of me."
"Good. I want to ruin you for anyone else." I gasp as his thumbs hook into my underwear, dragging the lace down my legs. "Conall, please."
"Please what?" His voice is rough with want as he spreads my thighs wider.
"Touch my pussy. I need your fingers inside me."
His eyes darken as he looks down at me, completely exposed from the waist down. "So pretty. So fucking wet."
He slides one finger into me, then two, his thumb circling my clit with expert precision. I cry out at the contact, pleasure shooting through me like fire.
"That's it," he murmurs, working me with devastating skill. "Take what you need."
I grip his shoulders, using him as leverage as I ride his hand. The coil of pleasure tightens with each stroke, building toward something explosive.
"More," I demand, tugging at his shirt buttons. "I want to see you."
He pulls his shirt off with one hand while the other keeps working between my legs. My mouth waters at the sight of his chest, scarred and tattooed and perfect.
I lean forward to lick his nipple, making him curse. "Your turn to feel good."
My hands move to his belt, freeing his cock from his pants. He's thick and hard and beautiful, pre-cum beading at the tip.
"Saoirse," he warns as I wrap my hand around him.
"I want to taste you." I slide off the desk, dropping to my knees before he can protest.
His hands tangle in my hair as I take him into my mouth. He's salty and warm and I moan around his length, loving the way he shudders above me.
"Fuck, your mouth," he groans, hips jerking as I work him with lips and tongue. "So good, baby. So fucking good."
I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks as I suck. His fingers tighten in my hair, guiding my movements as I worship his cock with my mouth.
