Page 17 of Legal Seduction
He pulled back. “Are you cold?”
Too choked with desire to speak, she shook her head.
He smiled now. He was back in control. Not just of himself but of her. And he knew it.
Before she could protest, though, he moved his mouth back to her breast and closed his lips over a nipple. As he tugged at it, she felt heat and moisture rush straight to her core. Then his hand was there, his fingers moving inside her. She arched against his hand, and he rubbed his palm against her mound.
“Simon...” His name slipped out on a gasp of pleasure.
“Bette,” he murmured. “You’re so damn hot!” And whatever control he’d regained snapped. “I have to taste you.” And his mouth replaced his hand between her legs. He dipped his tongue inside her, teasing her and building the tension. Then he withdrew it and flicked it over her clit.
She rose up and cried out as an orgasm shot through her.
He groaned. “You are so damn responsive...” But he stood up and moved away from her.
She reached out in protest. The orgasm had been good, better than she achieved on her own. But she knew there was more. She held out her arms to him.
But he stepped back and stared down at her. And disappointment filled her that he might stop. He unclasped his belt and pushed down his pants and briefs. He was so damn beautiful—his dick so long and hard as it jutted from a bed of curls even more golden than the hair on his head.
Somehow, as if he was a magician, a condom appeared in his hand. He tore the packet and rolled it over his cock. Then he joined her on the couch, connecting their bodies.
He stretched, then filled her. Bette arched and adjusted, making room for his impressive length and girth. She was so hot and wet that it was easy. And it felt right, like he fitted perfectly inside her.
He lifted her legs so that he sank even deeper and began to thrust in and out. Bette came again—that quickly—just from his movements. He was that damn good...
But then he got better. He leaned down and arched his back until his mouth could close over the point of one of her breasts. He sucked on the nipple as he moved.
Tension spiraled inside her again, and Bette arched and shifted, seeking to release it. She bucked beneath him, losing all control. They moved in a frenzy, like they were convulsing and then she did—as the orgasm slammed through her. Her muscles quivered and sensations gripped her. She had never felt anything as intense for as long. She just kept coming, the pleasure overwhelming in intensity and duration. She screamed his name.
Then he tensed and cried out as he found his release. Panting for breath, he leaned his forehead against hers. Staring into her eyes, he asked, “What the hell was that?”
She had no idea, either, beyond the most passionate sexual experience she’d ever had. And because it was, she was too stunned to remember her act. She said nothing as he slipped away from her, into the bathroom off his office. But she moved, dressing more quickly than they’d had sex.
She didn’t care if he wanted her to stay any longer. She had to get away. She had to regroup. So she left his office and stopped in hers only long enough to grab her phone and purse. Then she ran for the elevator, jabbing her finger against the button.
While she waited for the car to arrive, she heard him call her name. But before he found her, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. She jumped inside and jabbed at the button to close the doors. When they finally closed, she leaned against the wall and began to shake.
What the hell had she done?
