My Beautiful Sin (Fallen Saint Series Book 2) by J. Kenner

Author:J. Kenner [Kenner, J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781949925913
Publisher: Martini & Olive
Published: 2021-01-26T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Oh, God, Devlin,” El protested. “Don’t stop. Please.”

He had no intention of stopping. But he wanted this moment. This certainty that she was completely his.

His greatest fear—maybe his only fear?—was losing her again. But here she was, his in every way. It was a gift. And damned if he didn’t cherish it.

“Devlin, please.” She’d shifted to the edge of the desk, and now she reached for his hand. “Screw anticipation. I want you now. My interview, remember? And if you think you’re getting the job by leaving me hanging, you’re not the man for this position.”

She was teasing, of course, but it didn’t matter. He took her hands and pulled her off his desk, taking some loose papers with her. They fluttered to the floor—contracts, reports, he didn’t even care. He pulled her to him, then tilted her chin up. “I am,” said. “Tell me.”

He felt the shift in the air between them. The frustration in her melting into something dark and primal. “Yes. You are. You’re the only man for me.”

“You’re mine.”

“I’m yours. Devlin.” Her eyes searched his face, but he knew she wouldn’t see his fears there. With her, he could be vulnerable, true. But not now. Now, he only wanted her. Needed her. Needed to claim her and use her to help shift his world back onto its axis.

“Take off your clothes.”

She took a step back, stopping when she hit the edge of his desk. “What? Here? Now?”

“Here,” he said. He sat in his desk chair, then rolled it back a bit, watching her.

He expected her to protest, but when she reached back and unzipped her skirt, he realized he should have known she’d comply. This was El, after all, and the idea of submitting to him in his office where—at least theoretically—anyone might walk in, would be a new kind of temptation for her. A new thrill.

She matched him so well, even more than she knew. She was so strong, willing to face her fears. To take no shit from anyone except under her own terms. She was like lightning in a bottle, and the simple knowledge that he could have her completely—that he was powerful enough to compel a woman like her—that she would let him—made him harder than he’d ever been.

She kicked the skirt aside, then lifted the tank top over her head and dropped it on his desk. Now she stood in front of him in only her panties. Plain white cotton bikini style panties. Hell, he’d never seen sexier lingerie.

“Off,” he said. He was so damn hard, and it took all of his willpower to stay in that chair, to not stroke himself as he watched her. Instead, he held onto the armrest, his fingers digging into the leather as his desire grew with every tilt of her head, every flash of her eyes.

She shimmied out of the panties, then tossed them onto his lap, raising a brow when she met his eyes. He held her gaze, then lifted the panties, still warm from her body, and breathed in her scent.

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