“You taste so fucking good,” he said, then returned to flicking his tongue against her clit.
“What do I taste like?” she asked, because no one had ever talked to her this way. No one had sung her praises like this man, and she was greedy. He was like dessert without the calories. He was cake and chocolate and everything delicious in the universe. She wanted more, and she had no problem asking for it.
“Like sex,” he murmured. “You taste like hot sex.”
She gasped, and shoved a hand through her hair, her head hitting the back of her chair as her body melted into him. She was completely losing herself to the way he touched her. To the intensity of his mouth. To the rhythm of his tongue. He slid his hands under her thighs, gently lifting her legs over his shoulders. She belonged to him like this, spread wide in her office, being licked and kissed and sucked by this man who knew exactly what to do to her.
This man, whose touch said he craved every inch of her. She was in ecstasy both from the sheer physical intensity of the moment, and from what it meant to her to be wanted like this.
He pulled back for a second to glance up at her. His eyes blazed darkly. He looked like a man who’d been feasting. “I want you to come on me,” he said in a low, raspy voice. “Let me feel you all over my face. I can’t get enough of you.”
She was nearly there, and she began matching his movements, rocking faster into his mouth as he returned to her core, caressing her with his talented tongue, kissing her with his fantastic lips, and sending her to the brink as he cupped her ass tightly in his hands. His fingers dug into her soft flesh, gripping her cheeks. As if he couldn’t get close enough to her. He went down on her like a man obsessed. As if he wanted to drink her in, to lap her up, to consume her.
She let herself be consumed by Jack as he took her over the edge.
She gave him everything. All of her pleasure. All of her body, as she did what he asked for, coming hard on his face.
* * *
“I trust that’s a yes to Gia’s?”
She breathed out hard. Her eyes were glassy. She looked so damn sexy that all he wanted was to bury his face between her legs again. But restraint was the most powerful aphrodisiac of all. And he knew how to use it. He knew how to play with denial. He planned to. But first, he needed to sort out tonight. She was the only woman he’d wanted to spend any time with since Aubrey had died. He needed to do this right.
“Meet me there at eight,” he said as he tightened the knot in his tie.
“Yes.”
“Oh, and you might want to straighten up before your next appointment. You look like a woman who’s been fucked properly.”
“But you didn’t fuck me properly, Jack,” she said, as she adjusted her skirt.
He buttoned one of the buttons on her blouse, savoring the soft feel of her skin beneath his fingertips, and the way she shivered from his touch. God, she was so utterly sensual. He wanted to do everything to her. He wanted to explore every inch of her body with his hands, his lips, his tongue, his cock, and with a whole treasure chest of toys. He wanted to give her every kind of orgasm imaginable. To bring her all the bliss in the universe.
“When I fuck you again, there will be nothing proper about it,” he said in a low voice, leaving her with that hint of what he might do.
CHAPTER THREE
Pressure
Jack arrived at his high-rise midtown office, ready to dive into work for the next few hours. His time away from business for the afternoon had lasted longer than he’d anticipated, but he didn’t regret the hour with Kana, and he definitely didn’t regret the moments with Michelle.
When Casey finished her meeting with the marketing team—she oversaw the advertising and brand positioning for the company—she joined him in his office, plunking herself down on the eggplant-colored couch that she’d selected when she overhauled his office a year ago, declaring it too dull.
“A little splash of color makes everything better,” she’d said as the movers lugged in the new couch, and then carried out the old beige one.
This morning, she’d been meeting with their ad agency, so this was his first chance to sit down with her and lay out the details of the Henry and Marquita issue with Eden. Last night, he’d met with one of their top retailers that boasted a storefront on the Upper East Side as well as a burgeoning online division. But the most profitable line of their business was the handful of under-the-radar BDSM clubs they ran in Manhattan. Those clubs were under threat because a rival politician had decided to play dirty.
“Here’s the problem,” Jack said as he joined her in the red chair opposite the purple couch. Yes, the red chair was her selection too. “We’ve got Marquita’s brother, Paul Denkler, running for city councilman in District Four. There’s a special election because of an unexpected vacancy.”
Casey emitted a snoring sound and let her head loll to one side, her eyelids fluttering closed.
“Yes, I feel the same way about politics,” Jack said, rolling his eyes as Casey ‘woke up.’ “But listen, his opponent is this guy, Jared Conroy, and he’s a complete prick.”
“Two of my least favorite words paired together,” Casey said.
“Me too. Trouble is, he’s a former litigator, and he fights below the belt.”
“Below the belt is a pleasure-only zone,” Casey said, gesturing to her skirt. “I don’t approve of fighting there.”
“Nor do I,” he said with a laugh.
Casey twisted her blond hair into a knot and shoved a pencil through it. “So tell me the problem.”
“The problem is, Conroy is hitting all the right notes the residents want to hear with his clean-up-the-neighborhood platform. And hey, who doesn’t want to clean up New York? Nothing wrong with that. But he’s twisted Denkler’s schools-and-safe-streets campaign into a condemnation of Denkler’s sister’s business.”
“How are the two even connected?” she asked, scrunching her brow.
Jack shook his head. “They aren’t, of course. That’s the issue. Conroy plays hard ball, and he’s decided to make the campaign about the BDSM clubs. Conroy has deep pockets. With that money lining his pockets, he’s promising to do a Times Square-style sweep of the—” Jack stopped to sketch air quotes “—tawdry elements. As if the BDSM clubs are causing problems in the area that necessitate a clean up. They’re not, but he’s making it seem like they are, and since the Times Square revamp was so popular, his message is resonating.”