The Kingmaker - Page 72

“I’m telling you now.”

“No, I saw it on television with the rest of the world and you came here for what?” I grip the edge of the conference room table. “To ensure if you ever make it back from the Amazon, or whatever remote place you visit next, you’ll still have some ass in Arizona?”

He moves so quickly, I jerk back when he’s standing right in front of me, caging me with his arms on either side where I sit on the table. This close, I smell him. I feel him. His body, big and familiar and still a mystery, radiates heat. It makes me remember us curled around each other, naked in sex-scented sheets; to recall a day lying among half-opened tulips, sharing our dreams and ambitions.

“I’m losing patience, Nix,” he says, so close his words rest on my lips.

“Oh, am I not forgiving you fast enough? How very privileged of you to expect it.”

“I don’t want it to be like this.” He leans forward until only a sultry centimeter separates us. “I missed you. I came for—”

“What?” My will wavers and then snaps back into place. “What do you want?”

The look he pours over me is hot oil, burning me even through serviceable layers of cotton. His heated perusal caresses my face, sluices over my breasts and hips, and then pools at my feet.

“Oh, that you won’t ever get again,” I say, my voice a soft, certain promise. “I don’t fuck liars. I’m particular that wa

y.”

“Never say never,” he drawls, tilting up my chin with his finger.

“Nev–”

He crushes the word between our mouths. It falls apart in the scorching, sweet tangle of lips and teeth. With one hand, he digs his fingers into my hair. The other splays across my lower back, his grip on me almost convulsive, urging me up and closer. I’m in stasis. I’m completely startled by the kiss, unable to respond. I send a desperate message to my brain.

Move. Pull back. Push him away.

But the urgent glide of his hand down my spine to cup my ass melts my thoughts to liquid and they swim in my head. I can’t pull back, and all hope of resistance dissolves when he presses his thumb to my chin, prying me open. He stalks my tongue, hunts down a response, licking and sucking and groaning and growling. His hands tighten on me until I strain up to seek him, yanking his hair, pulling him even closer.

“Dammit, Nix,” he mutters between kisses. His hand wanders down my neck and across my shoulder, and cups my breast, twisting the nipple through flimsy barriers of cotton and lace. He shoves up my skirt, pulling my legs wider, and pushes my panties aside, his fingers invading me. My body remembers this mad craving that claws out of my bones—that wants out. That wants him. Under his rough touch, my body blooms and my hips rock.

“That’s it,” he says, taking my earlobe between his lips.

My head falls back and I moan. It’s so damn good. His touch awakens me. His hands, his kisses bring me to life. It feels like I’m taking my first deep breath since we were last together, and it fills my lungs, seeps into my pores. He’s all over me and inside me.

“I missed you,” he says, sucking my lips and kissing the corners, quick, hungry. “I’m sorry. Baby, I—”

“Stop talking.” I reach between us to loosen his belt, catching his zipper and dragging it down, dragging him out. “Shut the fuck up.”

He’s thick and rigid in my hand. The promise of stretching around him makes my body weep. I don’t wait for him to move or ask, but scoot forward to interlock our bodies. A harsh exhale clashes between our mouths, both of us losing our breath at this most carnal of reunions. For a moment, it’s the perfection of us together, our bodies conduits to our souls. And then he moves, reducing the world to this mating dance. It’s ancient, the beat of my blood and my heart. The way he takes me, it’s new, fresh. Like it’s the first time, the last time, he grips my thighs to hold me in place while he claims me, at first a deep, slow thrust, and then increasing. Faster. Pounding. Louder. Our pleasure reaches the top of our lungs, heedless of who hears beyond the conference room door. I couldn’t hold back these sounds if I tried—involuntary grunts and hisses and moans, too much for my body to keep private as I come hard and he soon follows.

I press my forehead to his, ghost my lips over his to taste his urgent breaths.

“Don’t tell me never again,” he pants. “I don’t like that word.”

His commanding words jar me. I jerk back and push him away. God, what have I done? What have I allowed? Yielded? Anyone could have walked in, caught us. I risked so much for what? A quick fuck with a man who lied to me?

I scramble off the table, standing and righting my clothes. Shame burns my face as the evidence of my weakness trickles out of me, dampening my panties. I’m weak. So weak. I can’t resist him, but I can’t have him. I won’t.

“I need you to go.” I turn away, struggling to regain my composure. “That was a mistake.”

“That was what happens when we’re together,” he counters, behind me and closer than he was a few seconds ago. “That’s why I came here, even knowing you’d be furious. Remember when you asked me that night in the alley if it’s always like this?”

I turn to face him, watching him closely. “You said sometimes.”

“I lied. It’s never like this. I thought I could walk away, but I don’t want to, Lennix. That was always my rule, but I’d never had you. I can’t stay away from you. Don’t ask me to. Yes, I have to go to the Amazon and you’re going on the campaign trail, but we can try long distance. We can get past this misunderstanding and—”

“Misunderstanding?” I offer a disbelieving laugh. “You and your family, your father represent everything I want to spend my life fighting.”

Tags: Kennedy Ryan Romance
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