Power Play (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 2)

I tear my mouth from hers, and our foreheads touch, both of us gasping for breath. I press my nose into hers, our eyes meeting, and damn, hunger is swirling in her eyes. “If I don’t stop, I won’t stop. I’ll take you right here.”

Her eyes search mine, her fingertips digging into my ass, pressing into me so that my engorged cock rests against her precious pussy. She takes in a sharp breath, her lips parting, and then she whispers, “Don’t.”

I’m wild for her. “Don’t?”

“Don’t stop,” she asks. Begs, honestly.

I can’t see straight.

Soon, I’m light-headed, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out.

But first, I won’t dare stop.

Chapter Eleven

Posey

I’ve never in my life been as hot as I am right now.

My whole body is shaking, I’m slick with want, and the steel pipe pressed against my throbbing pussy is really making it hard to form a coherent thought. All I can think is that I want Boon. I have wanted quite a few men, but never this quickly. Never with my whole body. I want to feel him inside me. I don’t want to stop kissing him or being under his gaze. He looks at me as if I’m the only one here. I know I am, but even last night, he was only looking at me. There were plenty of gorgeous women at the bar, but his eyes stayed on me. Even when Stella was talking to us, he wouldn’t take his eyes off me. I stroke my fingers along the coarse hair of his jaw, and I’m lost in Boon’s eyes. His hands cup my face, and man, they feel good. They’re rough and strong. When he presses his nose to mine, I almost can’t believe I said those words.

Don’t stop.

But then, I’m not surprised. This may be new, but it’s for sure about to happen. He kisses my top lip before capturing my mouth sloppily. His tongue, his lips, his hands, they’ve all got me aching for him. His hands slide down my body, cupping my breasts before his mouth trails down my jaw to my chin. When he takes my hips in his hands, I arch into him, and a throaty sound leaves his mouth.

“You are fucking incredible.”

Oh, heart, we’re in trouble.

He lifts me up like I weigh nothing. I’m a thick girl, but he makes me feel like I’m as light as a feather. I wrap my arms around him and then my legs as he turns and presses me into the door. This damn office is so small, but that’s an afterthought once he locks the door. He turns me around once more and then swipes his hand across one side of my desk, clearing a spot. He lays me down on the desk, and I look up at him in excitement. But I feel a little fear. Should I tell him? Should I ask him to go slow? I can’t. I don’t want him to feel weird; I don’t want that look to go away.

That look of complete possession.

He pulls my shorts down and off my legs but leaves my sneakers. When he cups my sex, he stares down at me, and his hazel eyes now are dark brown. “Fucking gorgeous.”

If he keeps calling me that, I might come right here. I’ve only ever been called pretty—never gorgeous, and never by a man. He squeezes me, and I arch into his hand. I’ve touched myself plenty, and I’ve even had a guy touch me before, but he didn’t look at me the way Boon is. He didn’t look starved. Boon runs his thumb along my lips, pressing the tip of his finger into my clit, and I moan loudly. He brings his hand to my mouth, a grin on his face. I run my tongue along his palm, and he shakes his head.

“Are you trying to make me come?”

“I think that’s the point,” I say against his palm, and his grin grows.

He’s always so serious, that his grin… It takes my breath away. His whole face takes part in the motion, and it’s beautiful. He removes his hand and then pushes down his pants. Now, I know I haven’t seen many cocks in person—porn, sure, but never a real man’s cock—so it’s easy to say that I am in awe of him. His hips are so pronounced, and he has that V that I’ve also never seen in real life. His cock is long, curved up at me, and I’ve never wanted to suck a man’s cock until now. Before I can even utter a word or touch him, he’s inside me.

Just like that.

No warning.

There goes my virginity.

And the pain is unreal. I squeeze my hands tightly, my knuckles surely white against my desk as I clench my eyes shut. I assumed I would hear a pop, but all I hear is him groan, “Fuck, you’re tight as hell.”