Trashy Conquest Page 7

  This is possessive jealousy on steroids.

  “I only need to know one thing. Do you want me?”

  Narrowing her warm sable eyes, she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and fuck, if I make her ache for nothing else, that come-hither nibble is reason enough.

  “Answer me, Jules.” The fierce timbre of my voice widens her eyes.

  “What kind of question is that? Of course I want you.”

  I push my way into her apartment, backing her up step-by-step, and take her chin in my hand as her front door slams shut behind us.

  “I won’t share you.”

  “I won’t share you either,” she counters.

  “Understood.” Catching a whiff of her vanilla scent, I lower my gaze to her pajama-clad body. “Take off your clothes.”

  Her breathing quickens, and the alluring swell of her tits draws my focus. She brings her hands to the buttons of her top, hypnotizing me as she works them free. But I feel the weight of her stare and all but fall into her eyes.

  Time seems to stop as she studies me. “You’re angry with me,” she says, a ring of truth in her statement.

  “Yes.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “You kissed him. That’s something.”

  “He caught me by surprise. It didn’t—”

  “Finish taking off your top,” I interrupt, voice thick as I gesture toward her cotton PJs.

  She shrugs out of her night shirt, and then she’s standing in front of me naked from the waist up. Hell, there’s something so fucking sexy about her vulnerability, and I respond to it in a very visceral way by shoving her to her knees.

  “I want your mouth.”

  Her mouth on my cock.

  Not on his lips.

  She works the button of my pants free, pulls down the zipper, and takes my cock in her hand. I’ve never been so ready to come down a woman’s throat, so achy and hard as her fingers curl around me. I grab her by the back of her head and fist her thick locks so she can’t back away.

  “I need you so damn much, Jules. This might be quick, but it won’t be gentle.”

  “It’s ok—”

  I silence her acceptance with my cock, groaning as those tempting lips close around the tip. Even though I’m controlling the movement of her mouth—the depth of my thrusts, the speed—she’s literally got me by the balls. Her fingernails are a light scrape against my sack with each slide of her mouth, from head to base.

  “You’re so goddamn sexy.”

  She welcomes my thrusts with fervor, even the ones that hit the back of her throat, but I can’t help but wonder if she’s sucking me out of my mind due to guilt. Did she feel something when she kissed him? Is she thinking about him right now, wishing he were here instead of me?

  “Open your eyes,” I command, not liking how she’s shutting me out.

  Her gaze collides with mine, and God there’s that decadent stare again, like smooth chocolate inviting me in, tempting me to drown in sin.

  “You’re wrecking me right now.”

  She moans around my cock, and I’m pretty damn sure she’s enjoying the task, but I still can’t get the idea out of my head that she’s got him on her mind.

  “I want to murder him.”

  She tries edging back, but I won’t let her. For a few seconds we both pant—her through her nose, and me through the space between my lips because I can already taste her on my tongue.

  The spice of her desperation.

  The sweetness of her apology.

  The satisfying flavor of her choice.

  “Choose me, Jules. I know my life is one big fuck-up, but I need you more than he does. I want you more than he ever will.”

  Because there’s no way I’d let her run halfway across the country without me right on her heels.

  Her eyes glisten as if finding a hidden meaning in my words. She digs her fingers into my ass, pulling me closer as her long lashes flutter against fair cheeks. Taking in a sharp breath through her nose, she works me deep enough to gag.

  Hell, she’s working me toward complete and utter destruction.

  My knees shake under the strength of her skill, and my mind finds nirvana, a blessed void where only the suction of her mouth exists. I want it to last forever. Every noisy slurp, every whirl of her tongue.

  “Jules,” I groan, about to come harder than I’ve ever come in my fucking life.

  She gags again, and I release all that I am into her beautiful, busy mouth. Her throat works overtime to swallow my load, and afterward, I reach for my tie because I’m just getting warmed up.

  12. Soon

  Jules

  I’m in a daze, slow to realize that he’s removing his tie with purpose as a commanding edge drives his movements.

  “Put your hands behind your back.”

  “What?” I blink rapidly.

  Instead of responding to my stupefied tone, he grips me by the arms. Before I know it, I’m on my feet, and he’s got me turned around, hands at the small of my back as he winds his tie around my wrists. After he finishes binding my hands, he whirls me once more and pushes me against the wall.

  I gasp as he drops to his knees. A shiver follows the wake of his warm fingers, tingling along my skin as he slides my sleep shorts down my legs. I step out of the last of my clothing.

  Cash wedges a hand between my thighs. “Spread your legs.”

  I obey, and he grips me by the thighs, thumbs achingly close to my pussy as he spreads me open to his gaze. He’s got me right where he wants me.

  Unable to touch him.

  Unable to fight him even if I wanted to.

  “You’ve got a gorgeous pussy. I could eat you out all day.” He tilts forward and darts his tongue over my clit, falling into a rhythm that’s tortuous and slow and hot. I’m shaking inside the firm grip of his hands, trapped by his deft tongue and the weakness in my knees.

  “Oh God. Don’t stop.”

  This is a bit surreal. Even after all the time we spent in bed together, I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that my boss is on his knees eating me out in the living room of my apartment.

  He moans, sending a vibrating buzz against my sensitive flesh as he reaches up and pinches my nipples. It’s not long before I’m close, straddling the edge so precariously that I can’t suck a full breath into my lungs. Our gazes crash together. He holds me hostage with his sexy-as-sin bedroom eyes as he circles my clit with his tongue. It’s the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen, watching him pleasure me with his mouth.

  But it’s not enough. It’s just enough to frustrate me, and I think he knows it.

  “Please,” I whisper, thrusting my pelvis against his lips.

  “How badly do you want to come?”

  I let out a frustrated whimper, because every time I’m about to tip over the edge, he changes the method to his madness. The pressure building inside me is too much, flaring between my legs with tingling heat, and I squirm.

  “Please,” I beg again, hungering for his mouth.

  “Is this what you want?” He lets go of my nipple and slides two fingers inside me, and I pant, hips straining.

  “I need more. Please.”

  Instead of kissing me where I’m desperate for him, those lips curve into a triumphant smile as he fucks me with his fingers. He drags another moan from my throat.

  “Cash, I’m begging.”

  “Good. That’s exactly what I want.”

  “Please.”

  He strokes me with a feathering touch that drives me insane in the best way, and I start to climb again, trembling under his touch.

  “Don’t stop.”

  Pushing to his feet, he grips me by the throat, and his hand is a firm caress that’s just strong enough to get his point across—that I’m trapped by his will and nothing more. “Don’t come.”

  “Are you punishing me?”

  “Punish is a strong word, Jules.”

  “What do you call it then?”

 
“A reminder that I’m the only man you should be kissing.”

  “It was a mistake. It didn’t mean anything.”

  “What I saw meant something.”

  I swallow under his grip, lightheaded, breathless, and too hot. Everything from the waist down is on fire and begging for release. “Please. I’m so close. Don’t torture me.”

  “A little delayed gratification never hurt anyone.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  He frames my face between his hands. “Because I can.” Then his mouth is on mine, tongue pushing between my lips, and the way he moans in the back of his throat shoots a tingle through my system. His kiss is harsh and demanding and hungry.

  “Let me touch you,” I beg once we come up for air.

  Holding me at the nape, he reaches for my bound hands and expertly works at the knots. Breath a heated blast against my skin, he stokes the inferno in my veins by dropping kisses down the slope of my shoulder.

  “Cash,” I whisper with a shudder as he frees me from the binds. I plunge my fingers into his hair. “Please.”

  “Say it again,” he whispers against my ear.

  “Please.”

  “No, say my name.”

  “Cash.”

  “Jesus,” he groans. “The way you say my name makes me harder than hell. The things I’m dying to do to you.” Using the perfect amount of pressure, he rubs my clit with purpose until an orgasm almost busts me wide open. But something holds me back.

  Don’t come.

  I don’t know why I’m not taking what I so desperately want. Maybe it’s the command in his words, or the desperate way he said them.

  Like he needs me to pass this test.

  “Tell me when to stop,” he demands, holding me in the storm of his gaze.

  “I don’t want you to stop.” His fingers are slipping in and out at just the right pace, and I wonder how I’m going to find the strength to hold back.

  “Are you getting close?”

  “Yes.” My breath is a hot blast across his tempting lips, and I squeeze my eyes shut, concentrating on not going over the edge.

  “Does your orgasm belong to me?”

  “Only you.” It’s what he wants to hear, and it’s the absolute truth, because he’s mastering me with every stroke of his fingers. Desperate to block out the steady rhythm of his thumb against my clit, I squirm, but the pressure reaches zenith. “Stop!” I gasp. “Can’t hold back.”

  “Fuck, Jules. Look at these flushed cheeks.” He cradles them between his hands and kisses me deep, infusing everything he’s feeling into the licks of his tongue against mine. We kiss for a lifetime.

  We don’t kiss long enough.

  Leaving me dizzy and disoriented, he steps back and zips up his pants, all the while pinning me to the wall with the liquid fire of his stare. “You don’t know how bad I want you right now.”

  “Why are you holding back?”

  “I need you to be as sure about us as I am.”

  “I am sure.”

  He rakes a hand through hair left disheveled from my fingers, and there’s no mistaking the indecision in his expression. “Soon, Jules.”

  My heart thumps an uneven beat. “What do you mean by soon?”

  “When there’s nothing standing between us,” he says, buckling his belt, “that’s when nothing will ever hold me back from you again.”

  He kisses me on the cheek, and I can’t speak as he slips through the front door, closing it quietly upon his exit. But my frustration is loud in my ears, screaming my disagreement. I can’t imagine dealing with this relentless throb between the legs until tomorrow, but there’s no getting around it.

  He’s got me exactly where he wants me.

  13. On the Edge

  Jules

  Sexual frustration festered all night long, making sleep an elusive bitch. I finally fell into a restless slumber three hours before I had to get up for work, so I’m a hot, emotional mess when I barge into Cash’s office the next morning. I’m also steaming mad. I shut the door, resisting the urge to slam it, and launch my anger at the brooding suit sitting behind the desk. It’s barely 8 a.m., but he’s already shed his jacket and rolled up his cuffs. I grit my teeth against my too-female response to him, because he doesn’t have a right to look that gorgeous when I’m this pissed at him.

  “What was that last night?” I demand, dropping my bag into the chair in front of his desk.

  He shifts in his seat, leaning back as his gaze roams over my curve-revealing ensemble. It’s still warm enough outside to get away with spaghetti straps. Between the fitted creme top dipping low in the front, and the flirty pink skirt begging for his fingers to lift the hem and discover what’s underneath, I dressed to kill this morning, and the appreciation in his eyes tells me he knows it.

  “I didn’t think it was possible for you to be more gorgeous, but you are.” The corners of his mouth turn up as he gestures at me. “When you’re fired up like this.”

  “Well that’s the problem. You lit the fire and didn’t put it out. I don’t like mind games.”

  “I don’t like them either.”

  I cross my arms, and his gaze drops to my cleavage. “You can’t deny you were angry, Cash.”

  “Yes, and now I’ve cooled down.”

  I almost scoff at that. He appears far from cool—if anything, he seems as edgy and aroused as I am. “Well that makes one of us. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain.”

  He rises from behind the desk. “What’s there to explain? I have eyes. I didn’t just see you kissing him, but I saw the hurt on your face when you pulled away.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “I know it’s not. I’m aware that we both have baggage. I knew it going in. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell.”

  “So you get hurt and tuck your tail and run? I thought we were in this together.”

  “God, Jules.” He levels me with the intensity in his eyes. “I want nothing more than you and me in a sentence that includes the word together, but let’s face some facts here. You’ve still got feelings for your ex, and I’m still as married today as I was yesterday. No matter how much we want this, we can’t ignore reality.”

  His words physically hurt, and I fight the urge to claw at my chest, as if I can yank out the knife he just buried there. “You said you were willing to fight for us.”

  “I am.”

  “I sense a but.”

  “But fighting for you means fighting for your happiness too. I remember how heartbroken you were on that plane. How can I ask you to walk away from your second chance if that’s what you want?”

  “What makes you think I want that?”

  He rakes a hand through his hair, the motion a jerky, frustrated one. “The two of you have a history together. If you need to find closure, or…whatever it is you’re looking for with him, I…I won’t stand in your way.”

  “Stop being so pig-headed! I want you.”

  “If that were one-hundred percent true, you wouldn’t have freaked out when he proposed. You sure as hell wouldn’t have kissed him back last night.”

  Did I kiss Chris back? I can’t remember, but the fact that Cash is using it to put a wall between us is digging at the facade of calm I’m clinging to.

  “You’re a fucking coward.”

  A tick goes off in his jaw, and I fight the urge to retreat. “Ask yourself why you were kissing him knowing I could show up any second.”

  “Ask me why I was wearing lingerie I bought just for you,” I fire back, tone brimming with challenge. “Ask me if I’m wearing it today.”

  Grabbing at his tie, he clears his throat. “You’re fighting dirty.”

  “Get used to it.”

  “Christ.” The vulnerability in his expression is a weapon. Slowly rounding the desk, he drags a hand down his haggard face. “I’ll go fucking crazy if I have to watch you go back to your ex because you changed your mind.”

  “I won’t change my mind,�
� I say, tugging him closer by the deep blue tie around his neck. “I want you. Only you.”

  Resting his forehead against mine, his eyes shutter as he expels a breath. “I’m so in love with you, Jules.”

  His declaration sends my heart soaring, and I shutter my eyes against the sting of tears. “I feel the same way,” I whisper before pressing my lips to his. He slides a hand along my cheek and tilts my head back, deepening the kiss.

  I clutch at his shirt, going weak in the knees. His kiss touches me to the center of my soul, sucks the last of the anger from my bones, makes any remaining feelings I have for Chris obsolete. When Cash kisses me like this—like he’ll die if our mouths and tongues don’t meet—I’m powerless to resist. Someone could barge into the office, and I wouldn’t notice.

  Eventually, he inches back. “Are you really wearing lingerie for me?”

  “Yes. I went shopping yesterday after work.”

  His fingers creep beneath the hem of my skirt, caressing my thigh. Slowly, he trails a fiery path up to the edge of soft lace, but he stops before touching me there. “What color?”

  “Pink,” I say on a stuttered sigh.

  “You’ve caught on to my weakness. Cotton, or something sexier?”

  “Sexier.” The kind of sexy that doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

  He finishes the journey to my sex, sliding beneath lace to burrow between my thighs, and I whimper.

  “Are you trying to seduce me, Jules?”

  Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I nod. “Is it working?”

  “Hell yeah, it’s working. You seduced me the second you walked through the door, all riled up and letting me have it.” He trails his lips to my ear. “Does it make me an ass for admitting how much I want to fuck you right now?”

  “The only ass move you’ve made is assuming I’m not completely in love with you.”

  He sucks in a breath. An instant later, his mouth is on mine, tongue devouring as he yanks my head back for a better angle. I can do nothing but submit and whimper and let him claim me with every demanding lick of his tongue against mine.

  “These sexy panties you’re wearing for me,” he says, breaths hitting my damp lips in rapid bursts of desire. “Show them to me.” Ownership pulls at the corners of his mouth, hinting at a seductive smile. He whirls me around, and I gasp as he bends me over the desk.