His Temporary Assistant

Nineteen

Preston picked me up so fast that I slapped a hand against his shoulder for balance. He swung his gaze around, and for a second, I imagined him taking me on my drawing table.

Would it hold our weights? And would coming my brains out literally on top of my sketches provide some creative...juice?

Not that I wanted him anywhere near my sketches, so I’d tried to distract him with sex toy 101.

Turned out he excelled at distraction himself.

“Finally,” he said under his breath, spotting my bed on the other side of the shelf divider. He juggled me while I flailed at him, but he still managed to sweep aside my laptop—though not the papers that crunched beneath my body as he set me down.

My eyes popped wide. More sketches. Dammit, why was I so cursed?

He reared back to haul off his shirt from behind his head, and I forgot anything except his toned chest and abs and that buffet of shifting muscles as he ranged over me to kiss me again.

His lips bruised mine as he fought with the many buttons on my dress. When he finally got it open, he swallowed a sound of pain at my lack of a bra, his gorgeous eyes devouring every inch of me.

“I love these.” He trailed kisses between my breasts, cupping them in his wide hands. His teeth scraped my nipple, and I jolted upward on the bed, trying to discreetly slide my sketches out from under me.

The problem was that I was also very turned on, and now his mouth was skating downward, heading toward that place he’d already primed. My panties went soaring, and I didn’t even see where they ended up.

“Love this even more,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to my pussy.

His gaze zeroed in on my face while he licked me. His focus was erotic as hell and I forgot all about my sketches and everything else as his long fingers slipped inside me and stretched me open. I was still a little sore from earlier, but he wasn’t being gentle with me. I didn’t think he could be right now. His touches were rough, but somehow exactly what I needed as he sealed his lips over my aching clit. He rubbed over a certain spot inside me that had me digging my toes into the bed, and then I was arching and grasping his hair as I came apart for him.

I cried out, dragging on his thick hair to keep him right where he was.

He didn’t even pause, just kept fingering and tonguing me until I flew into another orgasm, even more powerful than the first.

I rolled on my side to try to breathe, to try to hear beyond the pounding of blood in my ears. I felt him at my back, pulling up my dress that he still hadn’t fully removed and pushing his thick cock inside me while I was still convulsing.

He retreated an inch. “Shit. Fuck. Dammit. I forgot a condom.”

I giggled breathlessly into my bent arm. “I’m covered.”

“Are you?” He nosed my hair away from my ear. “Can I? I never have before. And God, I want to.”

I nearly teased him. It was our way after all. But I glanced back and saw the deep lines of tension bracketing his eyes and decided he really needed an orgasm.

Fresh off my pair of them, I was feeling generous. And I was curious too.

“I haven’t either,” I admitted. “Do it.”

He thrust into me so deeply that I swore he hit the end of me in one pass. His teeth sliced into my shoulder, and he banded his arm around my belly to pull me back into him. The juxtaposition between how he was holding me so tightly and driving into me so desperately made me claw at his tensed forearm. His hand came up to clasp my bare breast through my open dress and I pushed back against him, grinding into him as if I’d never come at all.

His hot, hard length grew even more inside me, and I couldn’t stifle my moans as he stroked into me over and over. Then he dropped his hand between my legs and frantically rubbed my clit, holding his cock inside me at just the perfect angle while I clutched him and let go one more time.

And this time when I fell, he fell with me, burying his face in my hair, his body shaking against mine as he emptied himself into me.

Nothing between us but skin.

His breath fluttered against my neck, already slowing into an easy rhythm. Lulling my heartbeat to match the beat of his.

Synced up entirely.

I wasn’t one to fall asleep after sex, especially when I was squeezed into my too small bed with a huge, overwhelmingly warm man who hadn’t even bothered to lose all of his clothing—again. But apparently, coming oh, five times since lunch tended to wear a girl out.

When I woke, my face was smushed into a piece of paper, and I was half on top of my laptop with the keys mashed under my thigh. I felt decidedly achy between my legs, and a quick check of my breasts confirmed they were reddened from Preston’s stubble.