He rubbed his cock against her belly until his balls were close to exploding. He needed to be inside her and soon. First, there was something he wanted to see. He opened the button at her waist, lowered the zipper, and stroked the soft skin of her flat belly. As his fingers encountered the softness of her curls, he stopped.
“Turn around,” he murmured.
“What?” She sounded dazed, her eyelids fluttering.
“I want to see if you still belong to me.”
“I never belonged to you.” But the words lacked force and she allowed him to turn her slowly. He sank to his knees behind her, then tugged her pants down around her hips, taking the white cotton panties with them.
His cock pulsed—she had a lovely ass, round but firm and decorated with his name. Declan was written in fancy script and surrounded by black roses across her left buttock. He trailed a finger over it as his mind flew back to the night she’d gotten the tattoo done. How he’d tried not to be turned on by the fact she was getting his name inked onto her ass. She’d wanted him to get one as well, but he’d refused. Afterward, he’d taken her back to a hotel room and fucked her from behind because she was too sore to lie on her back.
He’d liked it that she’d marked herself as his, even while he’d known the ink would last far longer than the relationship.
Then he looked closer and went still. Something had been added to the tattoo, words almost hidden in the swirls surrounding it. He sat back on his heels. “Declan is a prick? You had Declan is a prick tattooed on your ass?”
He glanced up. She was peering at him over her shoulder, a smirk on her face. “I thought about getting it removed, but this seemed easier and somehow appropriate.”
“Witch.” Leaning closer, he kissed his name, then bit down hard on her soft flesh, felt a shiver run through her. He massaged the globes of her ass, then ran his hands down the long slender length of her thighs. She shifted, her stance widening and he breathed in the hot scent of excited woman. Even if she thought him a prick, she still wanted him. She raised her ass a little, as if offering it to him and he stroked back up, slipping his fingers inside until they met the warm heat of her sex. She was drenched, and he ran one finger over the length of her, finding her clit swollen with need. He circled the little nub, not quite touching, and her hips bucked against him. He pushed one finger inside. She was tight but so slick he entered easily, groaning as her muscles clamped around him. He rubbed at her inner walls, found the spot that had always driven her wild, and pressed upward. A gasp escaped her, and she moaned as he withdrew.
He straightened, then turned her to face him. A flush marked the pale skin of her cheeks, and her dark eyes glittered. Her pants were caught around her legs and she kicked them off, taking her boots with them to leave her naked. Every muscle in his body clenched tight.
His gaze ran down her body, the thrust of her breasts, slender waist, the white-blond curls, the lean flat belly. She was toned, almost muscular. He loved it. He was used to soft women and there was nothing soft about Jess. He reached for her, but she held up a hand to stop him.
Shit, she wasn’t going to back out now was she? He’d let her go but it would kill him.
“Condom,” she muttered.
He couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten. Well, at least he could be sure she wasn’t trying to trap him into anything. He left her for a moment, went to his chair where he’d discarded his jacket, and pulled a foil packet from the inner pocket.
She watched him as he pushed his pants down over his hips, drawing in a breath as he pulled his dick free. Her eyes never left him as he rolled the condom down over his length.
His hands gripped her hips and he lifted her. “Put your legs around my waist.”
She complied, and he felt the wet heat of her sex against his cock. He gripped her ass with both hands and backed her up a little, so her shoulders rested against the wall, and then he shifted her slightly. His cock slid against her wetness, and she rubbed against him trying to get closer.
He held her still with his hands at her hips. “Say you want me.”
Her eyes flashed open, and she glared at him.
“Say you want me and you can have me. Just three little words.”
He didn’t know why he was pushing it, but he needed to hear her say the words despite the fact that it was obvious she wanted him. He’d always made her say it—it had been a ritual between them. Maybe his proof that he was the one in control.
When she remained silent, her teeth clamped on her lower lip, he shifted her slightly, rubbing his cock against her clit. And her mouth parted on a moan.
“I want you…prick.”
It was enough. His hands tightened on her buttocks, he lifted her, his cock homed in on where it needed to be, and he shoved into her in one hard lunge. It had been ten years, but his body remembered the feel of her wrapped so tight around him.
He knew how she liked it: hard and fast, and he held her in place against the wall as he pulled almost all the way out and then slammed into her. He needed her to come and fast because he wasn’t going to last long and on the next stroke, he ground against her clit. He pulled her harder against him, repeated the move over and over until he could feel the tension inside her.
Lowering his head, he sucked a nipple into his mouth as he slid out of her, biting down on the inward stroke, suckling as he used his grip on her ass to rotate against her clit and she came apart in his arms. Her head fell back, and she screamed.
He loosened his control and pumped into her as she spasmed around him, loving the contractions pulling at his cock. The pressure was building in his balls, his spine. He opened his eyes and stared into her beautiful face as pleasure swelled inside him, bursting, flooding him and he burrowed his face in the side of her neck. Finally, when the tremors stopped, he raised his head and stared down at her. Her eyes were closed.
“I still hate you,” she said.
Chapter Five
Holy shit. Crap. Bugger.
Her legs were around his waist, his hands hot on her arse, which was just as well because she was pretty sure he was all that was holding her up. And if he let her go, she would melt into a puddle at his feet.
And that was so not going to happen.
She’d spoken the truth. She hated him. Hated that he seemed to be the only man capable of making her feel this way.
Weak.
She gritted her teeth and opened her eyes. The light was bright, probably because outside it was broad daylight and she was in an office with floor-to-ceiling windows and no blinds. She gazed out at the sky as an alternative to looking closer to home.