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Chapter 64
PASHA
Where is My Mark? 1 ask her again
Technically, I do know where it is the makeup is evident this close.
What I don’t know is why the hell she covered # up The whole point was for her to wear it loud and prond. Sa dumbasses like Foving would get the fucking hint and back the fuck off
He shouldn’t even be here. He shouldn’t be allowed to walk inside this building, let alone be here in Daphne’s office.
Daphne’s protesting, but I couldn’t hear her even if I wanted to my blood is roaring through my ears and I’m doing everything possible to not just throw her over my shoulder and carry her out of the art gallery to the car:
As it is, I’m shoving her out her office door, my arm firmly wrapped around her,
One of her idiot bosses pokes his head out of his office, but I shoot him a glare that dares him to fuck with me. He ducks back inside and I can hear him lock the door.
“Pasha!” Daphne whips her head around. I don’t stop, and I don’t let her stop, either. “I haven’t checked with Todd=”
“I’m sure he knows.” And if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay out of my way.
I’m still seething by the time we get to my car. It’s lucky I don’t rip the passenger door clean off the hinges; I’m in no mood to be gentle. I shove her in the car and go to buckle her in myself…
But then I halt.
I didn’t factor in her scent. It’s there, faint but undeniable. Teasing. Tempting.
I slowly turn my head to look at her. I could kiss her. I could devour her right here, right now. I should.
“Pasha…”
Fuck. The way she breathes my name has me harder than fucking steel. I hear her breath catch…
“Don’t move.”
The last thing either of us needs is a smashed finger in the door when I slam it shut. I take a few deep,
09:16
Boyfriend Let His Side Chick Ruin My Painting, Now He Regrets
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steadying breaths before I stride over to the driver’s side and get in.
It’s damn near impossible to drive when I can smell her and sense her so goddamn close. I have one hand gripping her thigh like she’s about to fly off somewhere, and a brain that won’t stop thinking about Conrad fucking Ewing and those stupid fucking flowers.
And that mark. My mark. She covered it up, like it’s something to be ashamed of.
“Where are we going?” Daphne asks quietly.
I don’t know, I just had to get her out of there before 1 pounded both of us into a mutual screaming orgasm for all the world to hear.
My hand on her thigh is on the same page as my dick. I’m rubbing, stroking, easing up her dress. My erection wants Daphne’s pussy; my thoughts want Ewing’s blood.
He saw her in this dress. He probably thought about tugging the neckline low so he could latch on to her-
Fuck this.
1 whip a hard left out of nowhere. Daphne has to grab the oh–shit handle above her head as I turn us into a parking garage that I happen to own.
“Seriously, Pasha, where are we going?”
That last syllable hikes up a breathy octave when my fingers delve under her dress and slide over her mound. Through the soaked material of her panties, I start caressing her lips up and down… up and
down…
By the time I park, Daphne is breathing hard and her bottom lip is trembling with need. She blinks at me, her lashes lowered; her hips writhe to get more of my fingers‘ attention.
God, she is so fucking beautiful.
I tell myself we’re going to go inside. I’m going to take her into one of my auxiliary offices where there’s a futon and privacy.
But between pulling my fingers from her sweet slit, walking around the outside of the SUV with the scent of her desire teasing my senses, and the way she blinks up at me when I yank her door open…
Change of plans.
I’m done waiting.
I claim her mouth and fist my hands in her hair to hold her right where I need her. Daphne lets out a soft whimper that nearly buckles my knees.
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Chapter 64
Does she have any idea what she does to me?
I lift her just enough to slide into her seat and pull her onto my lap. With a flip of the side lever, the sent reclines all the way back. I slam the door shut again and hit the lock button.
“What if-”
I shut her worries up with another searing kiss. Maybe, maybe making her scream on my cock will soothe the angry beast inside me demanding to mark every inch of her creamy skin.
Or maybe it will just make me want even more.
She tastes sweet and salty. As she wriggles on my lap, I get some more very bad ideas. Or hell, maybe they’re good ideas–who even knows anymore? None of this shit was scripted and I can’t think beyond the current second, and the next, and the next. I’m just absorbed in every inch of her.
If I don’t hear her moan rightfuckingnow, I think I’ll lose my goddamn mind.
This was supposed to be a fix, not ripping the lid off Pandora’s box. But now that I have her right here. straddling my lap and writhing on my dick while her breasts threaten to fall out of her dress, I’m feeling a different urge. A need to take my sweet time.
Torment doesn’t have to be violent. Definitely not with my woman. I’ll kill the motherfucker who lays a hand on her–but Daphne? She gets my personal brand of torture, long and slow and repeatedly.
“Two rules.” I palm her throat lightly. She’s going to look me in the eyes, and she is going to fucking obey me for once. “You will do exactly as I say, with a ‘yes, sir,‘ every. Fucking. Time. Understood?”
Daphne nods. I growl and tighten my grip until she gets it. When she does, she sucks in a breath and whispers, “Yes, sir.”
“Rule Number Two: you will only come when I tell you to. Not even a millisecond before. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s a good girl, Daphne. That’s a very good girl.”
I pull her to me and kiss her again, taking time to nibble each one. Slowly, inch by inch, I hike her dress up her thighs and over her hips. Daphne seems to be perfectly okay with that–until I keep going up her waist and over her heavy breasts.
Then her eyes widen in panic. “What if someone sees?” “I dare them to even try.”
Tearing her dress up over her head, I discard it in the back seat. The tiny black panties sit a bit lower on her hips thanks to her ever–growing womb, and that sight alone nearly makes me explode before I’m ready.
Chapter 64
Goddamn.
To think I used to not want this.
To think I was avoiding having a woman like Daphne in my arms, moaning my name, lighting up my days, carrying my child.
The hell was I thinking?
She purrs to herself as I smooth my hands along her waist, lost in my thoughts as I drink her in. I almost forget why we’re here–and the fact that I’m supposed to be pissed–because every delicious curve of her body has me mesmerized.
I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her panties and slowly drag them down her hips. She lifts to help me get them off, but the way her thighs are spread around me make it impossible.
Oh, well. Time for Plan B.
