Her eyes floated closed. Her breath fled, and one thing was clear. She wasn’t the same person.
She was a different woman with him. A wanted woman. And it felt so good, especially as his breath ghosted over her neck and he whispered in her ear, “Did you touch yourself when I was in there?”
“No,” she said.
“Not even a little?”
She shook her head, glad that her eyes were closed because surely they’d give away this lie. He reached for her hand, and brought it to his mouth, drawing her index finger between his lips. Her eyes snapped open.
“I bet this finger was between your legs,” he whispered, disarming her.
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
“And I bet you didn’t finish the job.”
“I barely touched myself,” she admitted defensively, her skin heating up all over.
His eyes darkened, and he groaned appreciatively. “When you barely touched yourself, were you thinking about me?”
“Yes.”
“And were you thinking about me as your patient?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Were you thinking about me as New York’s most eligible bachelor?” he asked, and she could hear the disdain in his tone. He didn’t like those titles. She wouldn’t like them either.
“No.”
“Were you thinking of me as the man who wants to fuck you again?”
That was it. Her shoulders trembled, and lust took over. “Oh God,” she gasped, and her body was not her own. It was his, and she desperately wanted some kind of relief from the way she ached everywhere, desire pounding inside her, ready to escape.
“Because that’s who I want to be with you, Michelle with two Ls,” he said, loosening his tie further. Then he moved his hands to her knees. Moaning the second he made contact, she was almost embarrassed that this simplest kind of touch had her pulse racing.
He dropped to his knees, pushed up her skirt, and spread her legs open. “I have unfinished business with your pussy,” he growled, as he dragged a finger across the outside of her panties.
His blue eyes were hungry, and he looked as if he wanted to devour her. He lowered his head between her legs, buzzing a hot trail along a thigh. The temperature rose in her so high, she was sure she was giving off heat waves. He kissed the inside of her legs, teasing her as he slowly made his way closer to where she wanted him.
“Jack,” she moaned.
“Yes?” he asked, as he continued taking her hormones hostage with his sinful mouth.
“You’re teasing me.”
“I know,” he said, sounding wickedly pleased. “I told you I would, since you denied me last night.”
“I’m not denying you now.”
He moved his mouth from her leg to the wet panel of her panties, planting a kiss on the fabric that had her throbbing. “So many things I want to do to this beautiful pussy. So many ways I want to make you come,” he mused and her skin sizzled from the way he talked to her.
“I want you to make me come,” she said, spearing her fingers in his soft dark hair, pulling him closer to the place where he could soothe the ache.
He slid a finger underneath the fabric, touching her hot flesh at last. She cried out, then covered her mouth with her hand.
“Be quiet, Michelle. Even with the noise machine, I’m going to make you come so fucking hard that you might break the sound barrier,” he said, and she was about to call him a cocky bastard until he yanked her panties aside and pressed his lips to her wetness. She couldn’t say cocky bastard, because she could no longer form words. She couldn’t think. She could barely breathe. All she could do was feel. And she felt like she was flying, soaring into a new stratosphere of boundless pleasure as he swept his tongue through her wetness, groaning as he licked her.
“You taste so fucking good,” he said, then returned to flicking his tongue against her clit.
“What do I taste like?” she asked, because no one had ever talked to her this way. No one had sung her praises like this man, and she was greedy. He was like dessert without the calories. He was cake and chocolate and everything delicious in the universe. She wanted more, and she had no problem asking for it.
“Like sex,” he murmured. “You taste like hot sex.”
She gasped, and shoved a hand through her hair, her head hitting the back of her chair as her body melted into him. She was completely losing herself to the way he touched her. To the intensity of his mouth. To the rhythm of his tongue. He slid his hands under her thighs, gently lifting her legs over his shoulders. She belonged to him like this, spread wide in her office, being licked and kissed and sucked by this man who knew exactly what to do to her.
This man, whose touch said he craved every inch of her. She was in ecstasy both from the sheer physical intensity of the moment, and from what it meant to her to be wanted like this.
He pulled back for a second to glance up at her. His eyes blazed darkly. He looked like a man who’d been feasting. “I want you to come on me,” he said in a low, raspy voice. “Let me feel you all over my face. I can’t get enough of you.”
She was nearly there, and she began matching his movements, rocking faster into his mouth as he returned to her core, caressing her with his talented tongue, kissing her with his fantastic lips, and sending her to the brink as he cupped her ass tightly in his hands. His fingers dug into her soft flesh, gripping her cheeks. As if he couldn’t get close enough to her. He went down on her like a man obsessed. As if he wanted to drink her in, to lap her up, to consume her.