Christmas with Her Bodyguard

He was magnificent, proud, and hot against her palm as she assayed the solid weight of him against her hand, which suddenly felt so very delicate in comparison. As if she could make him believe she knew what she was doing. His low groan of response was guttural, so primal, that she felt it in the apex of her legs, like a Molotov cocktail to her desire.

‘Rae...’

Hot need pooled, pulsed, ached, and she heard the sigh that slid of its own volition from her mouth as something pulled tight within her. She moved her fingers up and down his length, revelling in the way it flexed against her, making her feel insanely desirable. Powerful. She coiled her fingers around him, at least as far as she was able, and increased the pressure. Another groan from him reverberated through her, pooling at the apex of her legs.

He grabbed her wrist around the same time he choked out a strangled command.

‘Don’t tell me that wasn’t good,’ she offered mildly, as though her heart weren’t hammering in her chest for fear of getting it wrong.

‘I think you know it was,’ his voice rasped over her skin, making it tingle. ‘But I want us to take our time, and if you carry on like that, it’s going to be over embarrassingly quickly. At least for me.’

A wicked shiver rippled down her spine, bolstering her, making her voice so husky she barely recognised it.

‘I think I’d like to see that.’

‘I can assure you that I would not,’ he growled.

He rammed his point home by pinning her arms behind her back, one hand circling her wrists, whilst the other moved back around to cup her breast, to graze his thumb over its straining, aching peak, before lowering his head and drawing it into his mouth. He was playing with her, toying with her. And she, for her part, seemed incapable of doing anything other than arching her back and offering even more of herself to him.

Then, suddenly, his hand was grazing over her abdomen, sliding beneath the waistband, hooking it down. His other hand let go of her wrists so that he could slip off her ballet-style pumps and her soft trousers in one easy movement. And when he grazed his hands back up her legs, his hungry, dark gaze locked with hers, his fingers inching their way up her inner thighs until she could barely keep herself from wriggling on the edge of the desk in anticipation, she stopped breathing, couldn’t even remember how to start again.

‘Myles...’

* * *

And then he was scooping her up, carrying her across the room as she hooked her legs around his hips, his sex pressed, like an iron rod, deliciously against her. She shifted, revelling in his groan, rocking into him, making her objection heard when he lowered her to the bed and moved away.

‘Stop grumbling,’ he teased, hauling off the rest of both their clothes in a couple of all too slick moves, leaving her naked but, for the first time in her life, not remotely self-conscious.

Instead he made her feel beautiful, desirable, proud. It was an empowering experience, lying there and watching his eyes sharpen with desire as he took her in, his breathing growing shallow and his body...growing.

Rae almost giggled, but the sound caught in her throat. For a long moment she could only gawk at him. He was so impossibly hard, like the most revered, chiselled marble sculpture, from his wide, strong shoulders, to his broad chest and athletic torso. Even those muscled, pumped legs. Her fingers ached to touch him, to trace those hard planes and edges, to lower her mouth and taste that tempting skin, but she didn’t know where to start.

It didn’t matter anyway. Suddenly he had moved down her body, his mouth scorching a trail on the insides of her thighs, working his way higher and higher with deliberate laziness, teasing her, toying with her, heightening her senses.

She found her fingers had worked their way into his hair at some point. Her legs had fallen that little bit wider to welcome his touch. And when he finally skimmed over the centre of her need, she heard the most impossible carnal sound escape her lips.

‘Tell me what you like,’ he murmured.

‘Myles...’

‘Tell me.’

‘I...like that,’ she whispered.

‘And this?’ He slid his finger through her wet heat, flicking the tiny bud, which had her bucking in response.

‘And that,’ she confirmed, her voice almost too thick to be her own.

‘And this,’ he muttered.

And this time she wasn’t prepared for him to press his mouth to her core, licking into her, branding her as his. She cried out, possibly an acknowledgement, possibly his name, possibly any number of glorious things, her body helpless to do anything but rock against the perfect rhythm of his tongue, losing herself with every stroke and every suck, feeling herself sinking beneath the waves of lust until they were finally closing in over her head.

When she was writhing in the bed, unable to believe she could take any more of this exquisite torture, he anchored her down with his hands, and feasted on her some more. As though he could never get his fill of her. As though he never wanted to.

Her release came so swiftly, so forcefully, that everything seemed to go black in Rae’s head moments before an explosion of colours filled her mind as she cried out his name. She might as well have been catapulting through them, soaring, gliding, with no sign of gravity ever pulling her down again.

But slowly, so slowly, it did, as she came back to herself.