Page 23 of Legal Attraction
“No, you really could,” she insisted.
“I watched your shoot,” he reminded her, as if she would ever forget his gaze on her while she’d been photographed in all those different lingerie outfits. “I couldn’t sit still that long. I couldn’t hold the poses, couldn’t handle the heat of all those lights, and most of all, I couldn’t follow the photographer’s orders.”
“No, you couldn’t,” she agreed. Modeling was much more grueling work than most people realized. She was oddly pleased that he knew and respected how hard it was. Not that she wanted his respect or anything.
Especially after the way he’d treated her in court.
But she did want him. She wanted him inside her, filling her, like he had in the elevator. He was already starting to recover, his dick beginning to swell and rise again as he stared down at her lying on the pillows.
She lifted her hips and wriggled out of her yoga pants, kicking them off to join his clothes on the floor. Then she lifted her tank top over her head and showed off her latest outfit from Bette’s Beguiling Bows.
It was green. Bette had designed it to match Muriel’s eyes. And she’d given her the first prototype of it as congratulations after that magazine named her The World’s Most Beautiful Woman. This bra had the cups laced together with the bow at the top of them. So she had to take her time, untying that bow before pulling the ribbon loose.
“You didn’t model that,” he said, whistling with appreciation.
“Bette just made it for me to celebrate that magazine title,” she said.
“It’s better than flowers,” he said with a gruff sigh as he stared at her.
She took her time undoing the lacing, stroking her fingers over her cleavage as she pulled the ribbon free. Even before she pulled off the bra, Ronan was completely hard again.
The panties were designed the same way, laced up to a bow on each hip. Before she could even undo the first bow of the panties, Ronan joined her on the bed. He lowered his body onto hers, but he kept most of his weight off her as he braced himself on one elbow. Then he leaned down and covered her mouth with his. He kissed her gently at first, which was such a surprise that she gasped, her breath shuddering wistfully out between her lips.
Then he deepened the kiss, moving his tongue inside her mouth. He teased hers with the tip of it.
She nipped at it with her teeth, gently biting, and he groaned. Then his hands moved over her, his palms sliding over her shoulders and arms before moving to her breasts. Finally he touched them, and she arched off the mattress, pushing her breasts into his palms. He squeezed gently, massaging the swollen flesh, before focusing on her nipples. He rolled them between his thumbs and forefingers, teasing them to even higher points.
Heat and wetness surged between her legs as her mound swelled and throbbed. She writhed beneath him, needing more, needing him. She was now as desperate as he had been moments before and he had barely touched her yet.
“Ronan...” She murmured his name, not caring how much like a plea it sounded. But she didn’t want to be the only desperate one, so she touched him again, stroking her fingers over his chest, down his washboard abs to his shaft. She wrapped her fingers around it.
But he pulled back and moved down her body, his hanging half off the mattress while he pressed kisses to her shoulders and her collarbone and finally her breasts. He closed his lips around one taut nipple and continued to rub the other between his thumb and fingers.
She arched her body up and moaned.
“You are so damn responsive,” he said, his voice gruff with his own passion. “You’re probably already wet for me.”
Instead of fighting with the bows, he just pushed the panties down her legs. And he moved his hand over her mound. His fingers slipped easily inside her, and he groaned. “Very wet...”
Then he shifted farther down her body and made her wetter as he flicked his tongue over her clit. He teased her to madness. She clutched the bed and then his hair and screamed his name as the tension broke with a shattering orgasm.
Her body shuddered.
She clawed at his shoulders and his back, trying to drag him up her body. “I need you,” she said. “I need you inside me.” She didn’t care that she sounded exactly as she’d been portrayed—like a sex addict—a man-eater. He was the only man she wanted to eat at the moment.
He groaned again. But then he pulled away.
And she nearly screamed in frustration...until she heard foil tear. Then he was back on top of her, pushing inside. He was so big. She lifted her legs. And he pushed them higher, over his shoulders. Fortunately, Muriel was flexible. She pushed her legs against her breasts, teasing her already sensitive nipples. Ronan pumped hard—thrusting in and out of her. But Muriel matched his rhythm, arching up and pushing against him.
She was so close...
So close to release, but before she could find it, he pulled out. Then he was rolling her over, moving her around as easily as if she was a doll. Despite being a model, Muriel was no lightweight. Her ex hadn’t even been able to carry her over the threshold on their honeymoon. Ronan would have no such problem. Not that he would ever carry her over a threshold.
But he lifted her easily and positioned her with her back to him, her bottom up, and he found her again, sliding inside her. His hand moved over her mound, teasing her clit. He reached farther up her body and teased the nipples of her swaying breasts. And he drove his cock deep inside her.
Muriel rocked her hips back against him, meeting his thrusts as the tension built unbearably. As he touched her and thrust, she shattered as an orgasm overwhelmed her. She shuddered as her muscles clenched before relaxing; she was satiated with pleasure.
Ronan drove deep once more before tensing and uttering a deep groan. His hand on her breast squeezed, exciting her all over again. Despite the powerful orgasm he’d just given her, she could have gone again. And again and again...
Was she addicted to sex—with Ronan Hall?
