The Millionaire's Proposition(10)

By: Avril Tremayne

Even before the thought had finished he was on her, his fingers there, renewing their endless dipping slide. He dropped to his knees, watching each undulating movement of her hips. And when that wasn’t enough he tugged that violet silk a little further off centre and put his mouth on her.

She bucked, cried out, as his tongue replaced his fingers, as his hands moved to grasp her hips and bring her closer to his mouth, angling her so he could explore every delicious fold and crease. The taste of her was intoxicating. The scent of her arousal, the feel of her as he suckled the pearly clitoris he’d freed from the silk…

‘Delicious,’ he said, between long, slow pulls. ‘I knew you would be.’

And then she was whimpering in earnest, soft mewing cries as he alternated the pressure, building the fire in her with every scrap of skill and care he had, building, building… One last, long, endless, sucking kiss there and her hips bucked off the desk.

And then a low, throaty moan was torn out of her as she came and her hands fisted convulsively in his hair, dragging him into her moist heat, and he was breathing her in as he laved her with his eager, lusting tongue, so damned hot for her.

He stayed there, his mouth on her, until the waves receded.

And then her legs relaxed and she lay like an exhausted doll, legs spread, limp hands slipping from his hair as he stood back and looked at her. She was so wantonly beautiful to Scott’s still hungry eyes that he had to cover his face with his hands—because he wanted to be inside her so badly the sight of her was painful.

A heartbeat later he heard the soft sounds of her getting herself together—sitting up, adjusting her clothes. He dropped his hands a millimetre at a time, gauging his control as he went.


She was covered.

He could breathe.

Sort of.

That spectacular blush was on her cheekbones. ‘What about…about you?’ she asked. ‘I mean…you. You know…’

Scott winced. ‘That’s what I get for not packing a condom,’ he said, and pulled up his gaping pants, refastening the openings Kate had wrenched apart earlier. He tucked in his shirt. ‘Not that I expected… Well, not that I expected that.’

Her eyes darted to the Venetian blinds as she edged off the desk and he read her relief as she puffed out a little breath. Had she not even noticed that he’d closed the blinds? That said something about the passion between them.

‘So, Kate, I’d say you owe me,’ he said. ‘And I have an inkling you’re not the kind of woman who likes to be in anyone’s debt, so I’ll collect tonight. Name the place. Name the time.’

She bent to pick up the various objects Scott had so unceremoniously shoved off the desk. Including her laptop, which she didn’t even bother checking for damage.

Ordinarily he would have helped. But not now. Now he just watched. She was doing something inside her head. Calculating. Planning. So best to be a spectator, gathering clues from her demeanour. What was she thinking?

She picked up a box of tissues, but instead of putting it back on the desk she held it out to him. ‘Lipstick,’ she said, gesturing to his mouth.

He plucked a tissue from the box. ‘Still there?’ he asked, giving her his most wicked smile. ‘After my mouth was so busy between your—’

‘Yes, still there,’ she cut in.

Her voice was curt, no-nonsense…but he saw the shiver tremble through her body as she put the tissue box back in its place on her desk.

And then she checked her watch. Followed that with a stride over to the Venetians to open them with one sharp tug of the cord.

‘Oh, no, Katie,’ Scott said at that point. ‘We don’t get back to normal and move on to our next appointments after that.’

She looked at him. ‘Kate. Not Katie.’ She licked her top lip. Again. Eyes closed. Then opened. And then she threw her hands out with a you win sigh. ‘All right—fair enough. Let’s talk.’

She waved him to one of the black leather chairs as she walked around behind the desk and settled into her own intimidating, high-backed number.

‘That was a mistake,’ she said, very direct.

‘I made one mistake—I didn’t bring a condom. Otherwise that went pretty much as I would have liked.’

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