Page 8 of Shark’s Pride

“Hi,” I barely whispered.

“Hi.”

“You’re stunning.”

She reached up to nervously toy with her ponytail. I stopped her by cuffing her wrist and directing it back down to her side. “Now you say, ‘thank you.’”

A small grin quirked at the corner of her mouth before she said, almost too quietly, “Thank you.”

“I’m going to kiss you,” I told her, much like I did the first time our mouths met in the park after Vela’s soccer game.

“Okay.” Her whisper was even softer than before. And a thousand times sexier, if my cock was a correct barometer.

“I’m still not asking, Abbigail.” I squinted my eyes playfully—yes, playfully—as I pressed in for a proper hello. Her warm lips welcomed me, yielding beneath mine. I stayed there for a few moments before pulling back, not allowing myself to deepen the kiss…waiting on her to either demand or deny me at this point.

As right as her gorgeous little mewl was, I hesitated to take her mouth again. If I started more, I’d never be able to stop. My cock spoke up loud and clear about that point, as well. I was damn sure if—no, when—I got inside her pussy again, I’d want to spend hours showing her all the ways I had missed what was mine.

Mine.

Christ, how right that sounded too.

After stepping back to put even more space between us, I waited for Abbi to look at me again. Instead, she jerked around and started busying herself with my lunch. I cleared my throat in objection—not that she heeded the glaring hint. I got a fast, furtive glance before she continued bustling about.

“Over here?” she asked, all business in her tone. “The usual spot?”

“That’s fine.”

I waved my hand, not caring if she left the food in her van for the afternoon. I wanted her attention, not her damn sandwich.

And I was damn determined to get it. No matter what that entailed.

As the resolve firmed in my mind, I walked over to the sofa, positioning myself behind her as she bent over the coffee table. The room was quiet except for the distinct clanks of silverware as she carefully laid out my setting. No matter. The sound was as erotic as a jazz tune, especially with this incredible view. Her tight ass was right in front of me, begging me to grip her by both hips and grind my desperate hard-on into the seam of her ass.

“Fuck. Girl.”

The temptation was too damn great, and by now I was too damn weak. With a low hum, I surrendered. With ruthless purpose, I dug my fingers into her flesh through her black pants. Not denim today, thank God. They were made of some sort of stretchy cotton—lightweight with an elastic waistband. One sharp tug and they’d be out of my way. Within seconds, I could be balls-deep in her heat. The heat I could actually feel against my cock as I ground harder into her.

“Oh!” Thankfully, Abbigail said nothing else. Just braced her hands on the coffee table, dropped her head between her outstretched arms, and allowed me to rut against her.

“Such a good girl. Dirty girl,” I choked out. “I could come like this, just rubbing myself against you. Imagining I’m inside you again. Would you like that, baby?”

“Goooddd, yes.” Once more, she gave up on words, though her finishing moan was pure music to my ears. And every blazing, burgeoning inch of my body.

“Do you want me to make a mess on your back?” The words tumbled from the darkest places of my libido…the raunchiest corners of my mind. “To come all over your work clothes, Abbigail? Then every other customer, every man, would smell me while you serve them their lunch. Would you like that, my gorgeous girl? To be marked by me like that?”

I wrapped my fist in her ponytail and swiftly yanked her up to stand. She cried out as her back slammed against my front. Her breathing was a ragged match to my own, and I sank my teeth into the side of her neck, right over her throbbing pulse point.

The door to my office swung open.

Seriously?

Terryn was the barging intruder. Oh, she knocked, of course—but did it as she opened the door.

And then gasped in raw shock.

Well, she deserved the eyeful she got. Nosy wench.

“Oh! Excuse me!” My assistant was unable to tear her eyes from what she’d walked in on. There was no possible way to hide the erection I was sporting either.