“That’s it. Let me hear you.”
He lifts my blouse higher, eyes flicking to mine for permission, I nod before he even asks.
He pushes the fabric up, revealing lace and skin. His hands slide over me, slow, reverent, hungry, and then his mouth follows.
He kisses the top of my breast.
Then lower.
Then gently, teasingly, he drags his tongue along the lace.
My back arches hard.
“Please,” I whisper.
He looks up at me with a slow, devastating smile.
“I love when you plead.”
My whole body trembles.
He kisses a path up my chest, reclaiming my mouth with another deep, hungry kiss while his hands explore every inch of bare skin he’s exposed.
Heat builds between my thighs, pulsing, aching, needy.
I’m shaking.
Completely undone.
I whisper against his mouth, “I need..."
His hands grip my waist firmly, pinning me to the desk.
“I know what you need,” he murmurs. “And I’m going to give it to you.”
My breath catches.
“Lie back,” he whispers.
I shiver. But I do.
His hands slide to the inside of my thighs, opening, positioning, control without force.
And then, the way he looks at me… God. I forget how to breathe.
“Beautiful,” he says softly. “So damn beautiful.”
His palms glide higher, fingertips teasing the edge of my panties, and I make a sound I’ve never made before.
“Jaxon…”
“Yes.”
“Please..."
“I’ve got you.”
He leans in. His mouth finds my throat again. His hands slide under the lace.
