Page 57 of Final Proposal

My groan is guttural, but it’s got nothing on the sensations overwhelming me right now.

The taste of her kiss.

The smell of her skin.

The demand in her touch.

The sound of her pleas.

Fuck this woman is going to drive me mad if I’m not inside her right fucking now.

“Ellery,” I say as we bump against the door she’s opening and push our way into her room.

We’re a mess of fumbling hands and busy mouths as we kick off our pants and kiss each other without coming up for air.

Desperation like I’ve never known eats at me, claws at me, consumes me.

“Wait,” she murmurs as she steps away and heads to the bathroom, giving me a damn fine view of her ass as she swings her hips.

I take the moment, brief as it is, to shake the drywall dust from my hair as best I can, and then stroke my cock as I wait for her.

When her feet pad back into the room, I look up to find Ellery Sinclair, little miss prepared, holding up a condom by her fingertips with a taunting smile on her lips.

“You brought condoms?” I ask as I take it from her and tear the foil with my teeth.

“This was inevitable. I knew. I prepared for it.” She wraps a hand around my dick and squeezes. “And God, how I want it.”

If I weren’t already turned on, I’d be there in an instant with that comment and from her confidence.

She watches me as I roll the condom on, and the minute I’m done, her hands are on my ass, tugging me toward the bed as her lips tell me what she wants.

“I want you to fuck me, Ford. Long. Deep. Hard,” she murmurs against my lips as my hands palm her breasts. Her breath hitches from the sensation. “We’ll have time for foreplay another time, but right now . . . right now, I just want you. I want this.”

She slides her hand over my jacketed cock and all restraint is lost.

“Get on the bed,” I order. She sits her ass down and scoots back, her knees bent and her pussy on display.

Fuck.

That body I saw last week—the one I’ve dreamt of, fantasized over—is even better than I thought as she lies before me naked and wanting.

And fuck if I’m not going to enjoy every goddamn inch of it. The line of her thigh. The curve of her hip. The bow of her back. The hardened peak of her pink breast. The insatiable taste of her tongue.

“You’re . . . stunning,” I whisper as I crawl onto the bed, kiss the inside of one of her knees, and trail my fingertip over the other. “Gorgeous.” Another kiss to the top of her mound. I breathe her in. Arousal and Ellery is an addictive combination. “Sexy.” A kiss on her abdomen before I lick around her nipple and suck on it. Her back arches and a moaned sigh escapes her mouth—such a fucking turn-on. “Incredible,” I say against her lips before slipping my tongue between them in a slow, languorous kiss that puts every one of my nerves on high alert.

She scratches her nails down my chest, making my cock jerk in anticipation and digs them into my thighs, begging to have me.

The woman doesn’t have to ask again.

I sit up on my haunches and use my hand to run the tip of my cock up and down her slit. Her arousal glistens in the dim light as I push my way between her pink lips. I inch myself in ever so slowly, Ellery’s moan of “So good” the only encouragement I need.

And when I’m fully seated inside her, after her breath hitches and her neck arches as she acclimates to the fullness, she looks back up and meets my eyes, almost as if to dare me to take her to the brink.

Her heat.

Her tightness.

Her wetness.