Her tongue flicked out to wet dry lips as she let him take her where he wanted to go.
“Again.” A demand.
He shifted back onto his knees, taking her with him. Holding her backside, he lifted her up to meet his thrusts. His hard length hit every sensitive spot inside her, while predatory eyes filled with ownership watched her. Cheeks flushed, lips swollen, his muscles flexing as he moved inside her, holding her tight—exactly where she needed to be.
“Again. Now.”
There was no argument. She had no will against this man. No defences left. With one last moan, she exploded. Taking him with her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Joe laughed at Megan when she eventually staggered into the living room. She scowled at him and headed for the coffee.
“She isn’t a morning person,” Dimitri said as he beat her to the buffet staff had set up at the side of the room. It held an array of continental breakfast foods, from Danish pastries, to muffins and bagels. He poured a mug of coffee and handed it to her. “Sit down. I’ll get you a plate.” He tucked her hair behind her ear before turning to the food.
Megan narrowed her eyes at him. Something was bothering her, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. There was fog in her head. What brain cells might have been functioning were too damn sated with endorphins to work. The man had scrambled her brain. And she couldn’t think clearly enough to figure out if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She took her coffee and curled up in the corner of one of the sofas, only to notice everyone was staring at her.
“What?” Okay, so it came out a little grumpier than she’d intended.
“Nothing.” Elle’s innocent grin made Megan’s skin prickle.
She looked down at her clothes. Nope, she hadn’t forgotten to get dressed. She was wearing the jeans and white sweater Rachel had bought for her. When she looked back up, everyone was still staring at her, as though there was a joke she just wasn’t in on.
“Okay, what is it? Do I have something on my face?” She hadn’t eaten yet, so not food. Maybe toothpaste? Surely, Dimitri would have told her if that was the case.
“Nothing on your face.” Rachel sipped her coffee before pointing a talon at Megan. “But there is a hickey the size of a tennis ball on your neck.”
“No!” Her hand flew to her throat. Now that she knew it was there, she could swear she felt the thing.
Dimitri, the beast, smothered a smile as he piled his plate high. Megan moved to climb out of the sofa, find a mirror and check for herself. A hand stopped her as Julia handed her a compact mirror. Megan aimed it at her throat and felt the blood drain from her face.
“What the hell? Dimitri? This isn’t a love bite. I don’t know what the hell this is. What are you? Part vampire?”
While everyone else laughed, he sauntered over to her, looking smug. He handed her a plate with a bagel slathered in cream cheese—her favourite breakfast.
“I thought you liked vampires, Buffy.”
“We’re going to talk about this later.” It was a promise. One filled with thoughts of retribution.
“With our words, right? Because, I swear, if this talk of yours involves you kneeing me again, I won’t be responsible for my response. You’ve experienced the Dimitriator in action now. You damage it, you’re only going to hurt yourself.”
That caused hysterical laughter from the peanut gallery, which made Dimitri waggle his eyebrows at her. This wasn’t funny. Not even a little.
“Nobody wants to talk about your dick, Dimitri,” Callum said as he helped himself to coffee.
“I do,” Elle said. “When you say Dimitriator, is that a reference to the terminator? Because the terminator was out to maim, kill and annihilate. If that’s what you’re doing with your penis, I’m not surprised Megan is pissed.”
“No more,” Callum ordered. “I can’t believe I got into this business voluntarily. I used to be a professional. Now I get to sit around in a hotel, paid for by my project manager, while talking about one of my team’s junk.”
“I’m not your project manager. You fired me,” Rachel pointed out.
Callum cocked an eyebrow at her. “Since when am I allowed to fire you?”
“Since I agreed to it. I’ve decided to stay fired.”
There was bewildered silence until Ryan spoke up. “That seems really out of character for you, Rach.”
“Did I ask the cheap seats for their opinion?” Her look was pure ice.