I looked down, then back up at Chase. His eyes were steel.
Slower, I unbuttoned my shorts, then lowered the zipper. For some reason, once they were ready to fall, I hesitated, holding them upright with both hands.
“Don’t make me tell you again.” Chase’s voice was low and raspy now. Something inside me threatened to explode as my cock began to throb.
My shorts hit the floor and pooled around my feet.
“Step out of them and kick them aside.”
I did as ordered, standing there naked except for my flip-flops.
He glanced down, and a bemused grin curled his lips. “Those, too.”
The leather sandals slammed against the far wall as though they’d personally offended my feet.
Chase leaned back against the desk and stared.
Up and down, his gaze roamed, never lingering or settling on one body part or another.
“I love how pale you are,” he said, reaching out and brushing my chest with the back of his hand. That touch—that simple touch—felt like a poker searing a brand across my skin. Chase’s grin grew as he felt my body shiver.
“It’s an Irish thing. The hair and skin and all. Blue eyes seem to be a thing, too. Some docs say we have an immunity boost that goes back to the famine. Did you know that?” I covered my mouth with a hand to stop the babbling.
Right there in my office with me standing naked before him, Chase chuckled. Then his hand rose and the same backs of his fingers brushed down my cheek.
“I like you, Finnigan O’Brien. I want to know you.”
“I’d really—”
He held up a palm, silencing me.
“But right now, I’m going to blow your brains out. This office isn’t official until it’s christened. We’re doing that. Right now.”
I knew I should object or push back or, fuck, blow him instead, but his sultry voice and bossy commands and threat to suck me off had my wires crossing andfritzing and—
Chase dropped to his knees and began sucking me harder than a teen with a slushie. I stumbled back, slamming against the door. Chase shot forward, gripping my ass with powerful hands while his lips and tongue—and teeth—continued their work.
“Oh, shit, Chase,” was all I managed as my fingers dove into his hair. God, it was soft and full and . . . Jesus, blood was rushing south so fast I got lightheaded. The door and Chase’s cheek-grip were the only things that kept me upright. “That feels . . . so fucking good.”
Chase groaned, his words mangled by my cock in his mouth.
Then one of his hands released my ass and gripped my balls, pulling them down the way he had the night before. My cock pulsed, a rod of steel pushing past its limits. Chase gagged as I hit the back of his throat, but he didn’t look up or pull back or even slow. The more I gripped his hair, the more I tugged, the faster and harder he sucked.
Then I felt his other hand move off my ass . . . and pull one cheek apart.
I flinched.
Chase’s other hand, the one gripping my balls, reached up and pressed against my chest, both reassuring and pinning me in place against the door, while his other hand wriggled fingers between mycheeks. The pressure of his forefinger against my hole made me clench . . . and shiver . . . and pull his hair so hard he drew back, my cock flopping free.
I half expected some command to give myself to him in whatever way he ordered. Instead, Chase met my gaze and asked, “Are you okay with me playing with your hole? Just with my fingers?”
My assent was more nervous rattle than nod, but it got the point across.
Chase’s eyes sparkled as his hand left my crease, appearing before my naked body. He held up his forefinger, then added two more and shoved them into his mouth. They came away glistening in the light from the banker’s lamp, and I had to fight the urge to shiver again. Jesus, what was this man doing to me?
Then said fingers vanished behind me, and I felt that familiar pressure again.
Wet warmth closed around my cock.
