Covet Page 89

“Please.” The word escaped her lips raggedly as she pulled at the unseen ties that bound her wrists.

“Ah. You want me to untie you, is that it?” he asked, chuckling. “But what would I untie, Tessa? Do you see anything holding you in place? Rope? Chains? A scarf, perhaps?” He bent down to whisper in her ear. “There is nothing keeping you bound, my love. Except, of course, your own desire to surrender to me. And if that’s not what you want, all you have to do is think it and the bonds will disappear.”

She shook her head in denial. “I – I don’t want them to,” she breathed. “I want to – to give myself to you. To surrender.”

His warm lips moved down the side of her throat. “Of course you do,” he crooned. “And in return for such sweet surrender, I’ll give you everything you want in return. Pleasure like you’ve never known before. Like this.”

Tessa cried out as he drew one nipple into his mouth, sucking at it deeply. With his left hand, he cupped the other full, swollen breast, his skilled fingers plucking at the sensitive peak until she was nearly mad with sensation.

But he was just getting started, it seemed, intent on arousing her so completely that she was all feeling, all sensation, and couldn’t have summoned up a single coherent thought if her life depended upon it. He slid one big hand down over her stomach, and then between her spread thighs, where she was already wet and needy.

“Ah, God.” She groaned as he penetrated her with two long fingers, hooking them over her pubic bone and pressing the tips firmly into that supremely sensitive spot deep up inside her.

He slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips. In the glow of the candle lit room she could see the wetness on his fingertips, the wetness he’d drawn from her body. He looked like walking sin as he deliberately licked his fingers, tasting her. She noticed that he’d removed both his suit jacket and his tie, and had unbuttoned his crisp white dress shirt several inches, giving her a glimpse of his tanned, firmly sculpted chest. With his dark hair, tanned skin, and stubbled chin and cheeks, he reminded her of the devil – but a gorgeous, magnificent devil, one whose eyes held promises of all sorts of wicked things.

“Mmm.” He nearly smacked his lips as he savored the taste of her on his tongue. “Delicious. Except that a small taste like that has only whet my appetite for more.”

His hands bracketed her hips, holding her in place as though he expected her to lurch off the table otherwise. And as his lips touched her quivering belly before moving gradually lower, she knew what his intent was, knew that he was about to perform the most intimate of acts on her, something that no one else had ever done. But rather than resist him, she merely closed her eyes and let her head fall back in anticipation of the ecstasy that was to come. And at the first faint, almost teasing touch of his lips on –

The alarm continued to buzz insistently, rudely awakening her from the first truly sound sleep she’d had in a month. Tessa bolted upright in the bed, one arm reaching out to fumble with the annoying alarm, and somehow managing to turn it off. She wrapped her arms around her raised knees, bowing her head forward as she struggled to still the frantic pounding of her heart. She wasn’t the least surprised to discover the fine layer of sweat that misted her body, or that her breasts felt unnaturally heavy and tender. And as she began to recall the very intimate details of the erotic dream she’d been so rudely awakened from moments ago, she flung herself onto the mattress, groaning as she buried her hot face against the pillow.

“Oh, God, not again!” she muttered, her voice muffled by the pillow. This was at least the fourth – or was it the fifth? – such dream she’d had this month alone. Her hormones must need adjusting, she thought wildly. Otherwise, why would she be having so many of these explicit, arousing, and borderline pornographic fantasies in her sleep?

“Because you need to get laid, that’s why,” she whispered out loud. “You haven’t had sex in a really long time. And, let’s face it, Tessa. What you did have with Peter wasn’t actual sex. It was – I don’t even know what to call it.”

It had been just over a month now since Peter had left for his new job – and his new life – and Tessa had struggled every day since to adjust. And while being alone was certainly nothing new to her after these past two years, the realization that this time he wasn’t coming back changed everything. She was lonely and bereft, finding it just a little bit harder each day to drag herself out of bed and go to work. She was sad and depressed and had to restrain herself multiple times a day from bursting into tears. Even Kevin’s corny jokes and frequent attempts to coax a smile from her didn’t help most days, and she was miserably aware that he and the rest of her co-workers must sense that something was wrong. Thus far she’d been able to fob Kevin off with excuses, not ready just yet to admit that her marriage was over. She’d never been one to discuss her private life at the office, and the topic of her impending divorce was especially sensitive, particularly personal.

She heaved a tired sigh as she got out of bed, wrinkling her nose in distaste as she realized that her cotton nightgown was clinging to her clammy skin. She pulled off the dampened garment and shoved it into the clothes hamper before turning on the shower. With no time to dry her long hair, she hastily clipped it up on the top of her head so it wouldn’t get wet during her brief shower.

Tessa shuddered as her soapy palms skimmed over her breasts, the nipples tender to the touch, and she hoped this wasn’t a symptom of PMS. The last thing she needed right now was to suffer through another heavy, painful period. But PMS might explain why she’d been so hormonal lately, not just weepy and depressed, but, well – horny. And maybe, just maybe, it was what had triggered that exceptionally erotic dream she’d just woken from.

It was unusual for her to remember any specific details about a dream, no matter if it was a pleasurable one or a horrible nightmare. But this morning, as she washed herself, she could still recall how it had felt to be touched by him – by the dream lover who looked and sounded exactly like her incredibly hot but ultra intimidating boss.

A gasp escaped her throat as she lightly, almost experimentally, tugged at her nipple. The sensation was like an electric pulse, traveling all the way down to her womb and causing her to shudder in reaction. Her eyes shut, not even noticing when the lukewarm water started to turn cool, as she recalled more details of that stirring dream – how it had felt to have Ian’s lips kissing her deeply, how his hand had fondled her breasts so possessively, how wet she’d been when he had thrust two long fingers deep up inside of her.

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