The Ceo Son

16

Britt grinned. “Stay the night with you?”

The offer was exciting and intriguing. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she thought about his kisses.

“Yeah, you can ride to work with me. Think how practical that is, to save money on gas like that,” he teased.

It wasn’t a good idea. She needed to think rationally. “I don’t have a change of clothes. I can’t.”

“If that’s you’re only objection I’m sure we can find you something to wear. Do you ever call in sick? Work from home?”

“Never.”

“What if we stayed at your place? Would you be more comfortable? It’s where you keep your clothes after all. Although it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to keep some things here as well.”

“That’s fast. We’ve been out once, Jack. I’m not moving s**t into your closet.”

She looked at him and bit her lip.

“You aren’t sure about me, are you?” he said.

She shook her head.

“It’s messy. I slept with you the night we met. I brushed you off. Your dad took over the company I work for, now we’ve had dinner and ended up on the arm of your couch. It’s not the way it’s supposed to be. It’s out of control, and it’s not an idea I’m comfortable with.”

“Do you want me to stop having s*x with you?” he said.

Hell no! “No that’s stupid. We can’t pretend we haven’t already...it was very good, in fact. I just, I don’t know. I’m too rigid for this, too uptight. I can’t f**k my boss’s son.”

“Then don’t. Just f**k me,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss her.

She tilted her head and let him kiss her, let the waves of warm desire pull her under. Jack’s hands on her back pressed her closer, and he drew her into his lap. His fingertips traced her jawline, and his mouth moved to her neck.

“Don’t walk away from this,” he said, his dark eyes drugged with passion, his pupils dilated.

“I want to walk away, at least I think I do. But I can’t. I’m just craven when you touch me.”

“Don’t let me take you to bed if you’re going to walk away.”

“I’m not. I don’t think I could...” She sank back into his kiss and all her protests drowned under the onslaught of his tongue. She melted into him, not wanting to pull away, not ever.

When his hands found her breasts, her n*****s hardened, poking through the silk of her dress as he rubbed them back and forth and made her whimper. He took her n****e in his mouth through the fabric, the hot wet mouth claiming her. She held his head down, her hands fisted in his hair. Hot tendrils of slick desire uncoiled along her skin, and when he pulled away, she frowned with such dismay that he nearly laughed.

“I want to take you to bed. But I’ll have you properly this time,” he said, and it sounded like a promise.

Jack led her through a dining room and down a hall to his bedroom. It was not the sleek gray and white decorator chamber she imagined, but what she could only call a grown-ass man’s sexy bedroom. The bed, a heavy carved four poster, was massive and domin

ated the room, the tailored window shades the same soft gold as the bedding. A stone fireplace stood dormant opposite the bed, and a desk held not papers but crystal decanters of amber liquid and tumblers. He led her to the desk, seated her in the leather chair and poured her a drink. Her short dress had ridden up on the walk to the bedroom, so her s*x was bare against the cool leather. It gave her a sensuous jolt to rub against it. She sipped the bourbon he’d given her and welcomed its peppery burn in her throat.

He stooped to start a fire in the hearth and switching on the gas and making high, orange flames ripple and c***k almost instantly. That’s how it is with me, she thought with a touch of embarrassment, how quickly he can make me catch fire. She wriggled in the chair between desire and shame. Jack’s eyes fell to her lap, to the state of her dress and he shook his head. He laid a warm hand on her belly she squirmed at even that suggestive touch. His fingers dipped lower until they were between her legs where she was becoming slick already. He touched her, parted her folds, stroking her sensitive nub. She bit down on her lip to suppress a cry. Jack’s hand on her neck drew her forward and he kissed her mouth, his fingers never slowing in their steady exploration. He released her from the kiss.

“Don’t bite your lip. I want to hear you,” he whispered roughly and knelt before her, nudging her thighs apart with his hands. He grinned at her, and she thought she might faint when he put his mouth to her, licking and lapping, hooking her legs over his shoulders and holding her hips still as she twisted and writhed. She was crying out, a choking moan starting deep in her throat. He stopped when she was right on the edge, ready to spiral over. Drawing back from her, he shook his head. His face was almost intolerably handsome in the shifting firelight, his half smile mischievous.

“On the bed,” he insisted, taking her hand and kissing it. Jack moved her to the big bed and stripped off his clothing again. “I want you between my sheets, Britt. I want to lay claim to you in my own bed. I want you to know you’re mine.”

Without a word, she grabbed his face and pulled him down to kiss her. She bit his lip, tugged at his hair hard, her legs snaking around him possessively. She didn’t take kindly to the interruption, and she was bound and determined to get back the o****m he’d stopped. The first thing she did to recapture it was to take his hand and set it between her legs. He curled one finger inside of her, working her nub with his thumb, a practiced flick and stroke that set her back on the edge in no time. He pushed another finger inside of her, stretching her, filling her with that pressure as he stroked her until he was bucking her hips, reaching for it, aching for him to finish her. Jack’s mouth closed on her n****e through the silk, nipping it and grazing it with his teeth. She screamed once, keening as she shattered under his hands, her inner muscles pulsing around his fingers as he felt her come hard and long. He kissed her. She was still shaking from the pulses of pleasure that took her, and he was kissing her, his tongue in her breathless mouth, full and questing.

Jack pulled her up to the pillows on the bed and pushed the covers down, sliding her between his soft gold sheets that were cool and slick against her sensitive body. She reached for him, her arms out, and he pulled her to him, gathered her against his naked body, magnificent and muscled, and cradled her against him as if to give comfort. She didn’t want comfort, though. She wanted more. Sitting up, she peeled her dress off and sat before him naked again. His hands went to her small breasts and stroked them. Almost instantly the n*****s hardened, his strokes making them peak and elongate almost painfully. Straddling him, she dipped a n****e to his mouth, rubbing it along his lips until he opened them and sucked it in, his velvet tongue lavishing it while his hand covered her other breast, pinching that n****e until bolts of pleasure shot down between her legs unbidden.

“Say you’ll stay the night,” he pressed, his voice hot against her flesh. She nodded, clutching at his hair, bucking against him.

“Say you’ll call in sick,” she challenged. He nodded, never taking his mouth from her n****e. “Say you’ll never stop.”

“I’ll never stop,” he said, fastening his mouth onto hers for a fevered kiss. “I’ll never stop,” he repeated, rolling her beneath him and making love to her.

Hours later, he found his phone, texted that he wouldn’t be in the office that morning. He kissed Britt’s temple.

“I told them you were sick, too,” he grinned.

“Why didn’t you just announce that we were spending the day in bed?”

“I thought I’d save the description for the company newsletter,” he said. “Are you hungry or do you need sleep?”

“I need sleep,” she murmured, burrowing back into his arms.

Jack pulled the sheet over her shoulder and settled his chin on her hair with a sigh.