All of Me (Confessions of the Heart 2)

I’d lived all of my adult life in control.

Self-control, that was.

And this woman had single-handedly made me lose it.

Gone.

Obliterated.

Threatening the most reckless of things. But the only thing I could see right then was the image of doing exactly that, bending her over that wood and pushing her skirt up over her ass. Maybe making it mine.

What it might cost really didn’t seem to matter that much.

A tremble rolled through her. Her lips parted, and her eyes darted to mine, and I knew she was contemplating her own wicked things.

Pushing past all my boundaries.

Climbing over my walls.

Getting under my skin.

My teeth nipped at her chin. Never before had I wanted to eat a girl up more than I wanted to devour Grace right then.

She gasped, and her hands found my shoulders where they curled into the fabric of my suit jacket. “Mr. Jacobs.”

Need rumbled in my chest. “You are begging for trouble, aren’t you, Grace?”

I set my hand on her knee and ran it up the inside of her thigh.

Parting her legs as I went.

My other hand twisted up in that mass of blonde hair.

What the fuck did I think I was doing?

“What are you doing to me, Grace? I have no control when it comes to you. You make me want things I can’t have. Make me want to risk things I can’t risk.”

Her fingers dug deeper into my shoulders, words nothing but wisps of need against my face. “What do you want?”

“I want you. I want to explore every inch of your body. Taste and lick and fuck.”

I want to keep you.

“I thought you said that couldn’t happen?” The question was nothing but jutting rasps from her mouth as my hand continued to slip higher beneath the fabric of her skirt. I played my fingertips across the damp material of her satin underwear.

“It can’t.”

The girl was on the edge of her chair, the same as I was. Her legs were parted only enough to allow me to run my fingers over her panties, lightly, where I caressed the line of her slit with each pass.

Her legs were shaking so bad I was sure she couldn’t decide if she wanted to clamp them shut or spread them wider.

We were nose to nose.

Breath to breath.

This woman the only thing I could see.

Long legs and high heels and lusty pants.

“Ian.”

It was a plea.

A question.

She was asking for the answer to everything I didn’t understand myself. My tongue darted out to wet my dried lips, and I was sucking down her every exhale as I nudged the silky fabric aside and pushed two fingers into her pussy.

Slowly.

Deeply.

A low moan rolled up her throat.

I pressed my mouth there, up under her chin, kissing along the flesh of her trembling neck. “Shh,” I murmured. “Spread for me, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

Her grip cinched down tighter as she opened for me, and I began to drive my fingers in and out of her sweet body, my fingers fucking her slow and hard and greedily.

Coaxing all these little mewling sounds from her.

I just wanted to make her lose her mind one more time. Exactly the way she was making me lose mine. I wanted to feel her come on my fingers. To know I could draw out her pleasure.

See to it that she was wanting me just as desperately as I wanted her.

She was so soft.

So wet.

So right.

So perfect, I couldn’t help but tell her.

“You have the sweetest cunt, Grace. Did you know that? Did you know I haven’t stopped dreaming about it since I had you? Do you know how many times I’ve fantasized about it? All the ways I’d take you if you were mine?”

She moaned a needy sound.

My dick pressed painfully at my pants.

It took everything I had not to rip off my belt and do exactly what I’d warned. Bend her over my desk and take her from behind. Take her lush cheeks in my hands as I drove into her.

Hard and possessive.

That was what I felt.

Possessive.

This girl mine.

I wanted to own her.

Take her.

Keep her.

Deeper.

More.

“More,” she whimpered like she was a partner to every single thing I was feeling, to every thought, and I was watching her face, tugging her back by the hair as I drove the girl wild.

Her eyes were doing that mystical thing.

Drugging me.

Or maybe it was me who was drugging her.

Because she was grinding on my hand, ass barely hanging from the edge of the chair, desperate to get closer. Her head started to shake back and forth as she tried to make sense of what I was doing.

Energy flashed, and her entire body tightened. The woman rode the razor-sharp edge of pleasure. One I got the sense that she wanted to cling to forever.

“You want me everywhere, don’t you, Angel Girl? Would you let me take you? Take every single thing that I want?”