Anything He Wants (4 page)

His
thumb, which had previously been massaging the hard bud between my legs, slid
back to my rear opening. I surged forward in shock, the desk and his hips
holding me prisoner as the thumb eased around the tight hole. The idea of a man
being interested
back there
had never occurred to me; I wasn’t so naïve
as to be ignorant of the idea, but it had never come up before. Thinking proved
difficult however as he continued to manipulate my body until I was trembling
with need.

Lips
pressed against my neck. “Eventually,” he purred in that deep voice, the word a
promise, as he caressed the opening once more then moved his thumb back to my
clit. By now nearly every breath was a moan as I tilted my hips up, desperately
needing to be filled. His fingers teased and tormented but never let me fall
over into orgasm.

Something
shifted behind me; Jeremiah lowered his body along my bare bottom, then teeth
grazed the skin over one buttock as hands spread my cheeks. Before I could even
comprehend what was coming, I felt for the first time in my life a tongue
against my most intimate of places, licking up the crease then pushing inside
my weeping opening. I surged forward against the desk with another loud cry,
and couldn’t stop myself from making another as he controlled my body’s responses
with tongue and fingers. The unfamiliar and exotic feel, unlike anything I’d
ever experienced before with my limited activities, pushed me over the edge. I
came loudly, my nails scratching against the hard surface of the desk and my
body bucking uncontrollably.

I
laid my head on my hands as I heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper, then a
moment later the hard length of his cock slid between my ass cheeks. The
fingers were pulled out only to be replaced by a thick presence that forced its
way inside my tight opening. I moaned again as he pushed inside, one thick arm reaching
around my waist and pulling me tight against his body. He pressed me down
against the desk as he slid out then in, stretching and electrifying the tender
skin. Still riding the wave of my orgasm, his movements left me panting and
frantic, pushing back against him wildly.

“Fuck,
you’re so hot,” he murmured in my ear as he thrust hard, earning another cry
from me. I braced myself against the edge of the dark wood as he pounded into
me, his thrusts shaking my entire body. One hand lifted to my neck, tilting my
head back against his shoulder and partially restricting my breathing; it
didn’t stop the breathy moans I made as another wave washed over me and my body
shuddered for the second time in as many minutes.

My
head fell to the side and teeth grazed my neck, running along the line of my
shoulder as his hand pulled away the material of my blouse. The soft feel of
his lips across my skin was a direct contrast to the hard pumps of his hips,
but I reveled in the experience, allowing him to set and control the pace. Two
orgasms left my body limp, drained from the experience, but Jeremiah held me up
easily in strong arms. I arched myself back against him even though my skin was
almost too sensitive for his thrusts, the pleasure too much.

Like
before, his teeth sank into my shoulder as he shuddered, his hard thrusts
almost lifting me from the floor. He let out a ragged grunt and with one last
stab he shook against my back, coming inside me. The hand around my neck
released and blood rushed to my head again, making me dizzy. He laid me
carefully atop the desk, resting his hard body atop mine as we both struggled
to catch our breath.

After
a moment he pulled out and stepped away, leaving me alone against the cool
wood. It took a moment before I finally became aware of how exposed I was, but
I still spent another minute catching my breath before I lowered my skirt. I
was wet enough that sitting in the chair would stain my skirt so I wobbled on
my heeled pumps, using the desk as a brace.

“You’re
hired.”

Still
breathing hard, I turned my head to look over at Jeremiah Hamilton standing at
a small coffee bar on one side of the office. His suit and dress pants were
back in place, as impeccable as if nothing had just happened. The look on his
face was probing and inquisitive, but I couldn’t tell what he thought to discover.
I tried to feel shame, anger, outrage at my wanton actions and his taking
advantage of my situation, but all I could come up with was a deep exhaustion
and sense of security.

I
am so screwed.

A
hand at my elbow turned me gently, and a glass of water was pressed into my
hands. “Go clean yourself up,” Jeremiah said as I took a sip of the cool
liquid, his voice as soft as I’d yet heard. “I’ll make arrangements and we can
leave once you’ve come back.”

My
brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders so I thought perhaps I had missed
something. “Arrangements for what?”

“You
said you carry your passport with you?”

I
blinked, back to being confused.
An odd question.
“Um, yes, I do?”

He
nodded as if that answered everything. “Perfect. Then you’ll come with me today
and can serve as my escort.”

I
took another sip of the water, still baffled by the direction of this conversation.
“Your escort where?”

“Paris.
We leave in an hour.”

*****

About
The Author

Sara
Fawkes has always loved spinning tales. One who’s been writing since she was a
little girl (and has the home made books from preschool to prove it), she loves
creating stories and characters and interesting messes for them to get into.
And for the handsome guy to always get the girl in the end. An avid traveler
and adventure motorcyclist, her dream job includes selling everything off and
leaving civilization to see the world on two wheels, writing in cafes in each
country she visits, and living off her writing. In the meantime however, she
lives in California with her menagerie of pets and, when not writing, loves to
rebuild old motorcycles/cars and practice her fiddle. You can find her online
at
http://sarafawkes.livejournal.com
blogging about
whatever strikes her fancy.

*

Copyright © 2012 by Sara Fawkes. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed,
or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording,
or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission
of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places
and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used
factiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.