Page 64 of Legal Desire
“They didn’t want that getting out,” Trevor said. “Didn’t want it affecting Street Legal.”
She sighed. “And it would. It would look like you’re abandoning a sinking ship.”
His lips curved into a slight grin. “That’s what you wanted me to do,” he reminded her.
“To save yourself,” she said. “To save your career. That’s why you need to stay away from me now.” Because she was exactly like her mother now, poison for any man’s political career.
But instead of stepping away from her, he stepped closer. She knew what he needed—the same thing she needed. One last time...
One last powerful orgasm...
She was still sitting and he was standing, so she reached for his zipper. He groaned as she pulled down the tab and freed his cock. First, she glided her fingers over it, then she closed her lips around it.
It was so smooth and long. She sucked him as deep as she could in her throat. But he pulled back.
And when she looked up, he was shaking his head. Maybe he didn’t want what she wanted.
But then he reached down and pulled her up from the chair. He lifted her onto the edge of her desk and slid his hands up under her dress. She wore a long one, but he pushed up the hem until he found her panties. Then he pushed them aside and stroked his fingers over her core.
And as he did, he lowered his head to hers and kissed her. The kiss was passionate, as their kisses always were, but there was something else on his lips.
Regret?
Goodbye?
It had a twinge of pain striking her heart. But then his fingers eased inside her, and she felt nothing but desire and pleasure. She shifted against the desk, against his hand, and his thumb found her clit, rubbing it until she came.
She moaned into his mouth.
And he groaned. Then he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a condom. After sheathing himself, he eased between her legs—sliding easily inside her.
She was so wet. So ready for him.
He moved his hands beneath her dress, over her abdomen to her breasts. He pushed down the cups of her bra and found her nipples, rubbing them with his thumbs until they ached with sensitivity.
Desire streaked from her nipples to her core, which throbbed for him. He moved his hips, thrusting in and out of her. He felt so good—so right—inside her, filling her the way that only he could.
He kissed her, his tongue sliding inside her mouth, mating with hers. She held on to his tongue with her lips, stroking it, and he groaned again.
“Come,” he told her, his voice gruff. And she knew that he was barely hanging on, just waiting for her to come first.
Because that was the way he was. He wanted to make sure she found pleasure first. And thinking of that, thinking of how he had been every time they’d had sex, she realized something.
They weren’t just having sex. They were making love.
At least she was.
She loved him.
Her body tensed with the realization, with fear. But then he slid his hand down and stroked it over her as he continued to move his cock inside her. And her muscles convulsed as the orgasm shattered her nearly as much as her revelation had.
Then he came, his body shuddering as he found his release. He leaned his forehead, which was damp with perspiration, against hers and stared deeply into her eyes.
What was he looking for?
Did he see it?
Did he know she’d fallen for him? She’d broken her own rule about emotions, and hers were more involved than they had ever been. They twisted and turned inside her, squeezing her heart, squeezing her stomach.
But because she loved him, she knew she had to let him go. She couldn’t do what her mother had to all her exes. She couldn’t let her bad reputation ruin his life. She loved him too much.
