He pulled my hips roughly, lifting me up onto the cold table and spreading my legs in front of him. I gave an involuntary groan as his fingers returned, sliding between my legs and pushing into me again. I despised this man in a singularly sharp way, but my body was betraying me; I craved more of what he was doing. Damn if he wasn’t good at this. His weren’t the gentle loving touches I was accustomed to. Here was a man used to getting what he wanted, and it turned out that right now, what he wanted was me. My head fell to the side as I leaned back on my elbows, feeling my impending orgasm approaching fast.
To my absolute horror I actually whimpered, “Oh, please.”
He stopped moving, pulling his fingers back and holding them in a fist before him. I sat up, grabbing his silk tie and pulling his mouth roughly against mine. His lips felt as perfect as they looked, firm and smooth. I’d never been kissed by someone who clearly knew every single angle and dip and teasing move to make me almost completely lose my mind.
I bit his lower lip as my hands made quick work down to the front of his pants, whipping his belt free of the loops. “You better be ready to finish what you started.”
He made a low, angry noise deep in his throat and took my blouse in his hands, ripping it open, the silver buttons skittering across the long conference table.
He slid his hands up my ribs and over my breasts, thumbs slipping back and forth across my taut nipples, his dark stare fixated on my expression the entire time. His hands were big, and rough almost to the point of pain, but instead of wincing or backing off, I pushed into his palms wanting more, and harder.
He growled, fingers tightening. It occurred to me I might bruise, and for a sick moment I hoped I did. I wanted a way to remember this feeling, of being completely sure of what my body wanted, entirely unleashed.
He leaned close enough to bite my shoulder, whispering, “You fucking tease.”
Unable to get close enough, I quickened my pace on his zipper, shoving his pants and his boxers to the floor. I gave his cock a hard squeeze, feeling him pulse against my palm.
The way he hissed my last name—“Mills”—should have sent a rush of fury through me, but I only felt one thing right now: pure, unadulterated lust. He forced my skirt up my thighs and pushed me back on the conference table. Before I could utter a single word, he took hold of my ankles, grabbed his cock, and took a step forward, thrusting deep inside me.
I couldn’t even be horrified by the loud moan I let out—he felt better than anything.
“What’s that?” he hissed through clenched teeth, his hips slapping against my thighs, driving him deep inside. “Never been fucked like this before, have you? You wouldn’t be such a tease if you were being properly fucked.”
Who did he think he was? And why the hell did it turn me on so much that he was right? I had never had sex anywhere but on a bed, and it never felt like this.
“I’ve had better,” I taunted.
He laughed, a quiet mocking sound. “Look at me.”
“No.”
He pulled out just as I was about to come. At first I thought he was actually going to leave me this way, until he grabbed my arms and yanked me up off the table, lips and tongue pressing against mine.
“Look at me,” he said again. And, finally, with him no longer inside me, I could. He blinked once, slowly, long dark lashes brushing against his cheek, and then said, “Ask me to make you come.”
His tone was all wrong. It was almost a question, but his words were just like him—all bastard. I did want him to make me come. More than anything. But I’d be damned if I’d ever ask him for anything.
I dropped my voice and stared back at him. “You’re an asshole, Mr. Ryan.”
His smile told me that whatever he’d needed from me, he got. I wanted to slam my knees up into his balls, but then I wouldn’t get more of what I really wanted.
“Say please, Miss Mills.”
“Please, go fuck yourself.”
The next thing I felt was the cold window against my breasts, and I groaned at the intense contrast in temperature between it and his skin. I was on fire; every part of me wanted to feel his rough touch.
“At least you’re consistent,” he snarled into my ear before biting my shoulder. He kicked at my feet. “Spread your legs.”
I parted my legs and without hesitation he pulled my hips back and reached between us before thrusting forward into me.
“You like the cold?”
“Yes.”
“Devious, filthy girl. You like being watched, don’t you?” he murmured, taking my earlobe between his teeth. “You love that all of Chicago can look up here and see you getting fucked, and you loving every minute of it with your pretty tits pressed against the glass.”
“Stop talking, you’re ruining it.” Though he wasn’t. Not even close. His gravelly voice was doing wicked things to me.
But he just laughed in my ear and probably noticed the way I shivered at the sound. “You want them to see you come?”
I groaned in response, unable to form words with each repeated thrust into me, pressing me further against the glass.
“Say it. You want to come, Miss Mills? Answer me or I’ll stop and make you suck me off instead,” he hissed, driving himself deeper and deeper inside me with every thrust.
The part of me that hated him was dissolving like sugar on my tongue, and the part that wanted everything he had to give me was growing, hot and demanding.
“Just tell me.” He leaned forward, sucked my earlobe between his lips and then gave it a sharp bite. “I promise I’ll give it to you.”
“Please,” I said, closing my eyes to shut out everything else and just feel him. “Please. Yes.”
He reached around, moving his fingertips across my clit with the perfect pressure, the perfect rhythm. I could feel his smile press into the back of my neck, and when he opened his mouth and pressed his teeth to my skin, I was done for. Warmth spread down my spine, around my hips, and between my legs, jerking me back into him. My hands slammed against the glass, my entire body quaking from the orgasm that was rushing over me, leaving me gasping for air. When it finally subsided, he pulled out and spun me around to face him, ducking his head to suck my neck, my jaw, my lower lip.
“Say thank you,” he whispered.
I dug my hands into his hair and tugged hard, hoping I could get some reaction out of him, wanting to see if he was in control or delusional. What are we doing?
He groaned, leaning into my hands and kissing up and down my neck, pressing his erection into my stomach. “Now make me feel good.”
I released one hand and brought it down to his cock and began stroking him. He was heavy, and long, and perfect in my palm. I wanted to tell him, but I’d be damned if I ever let him know how amazing he felt. Instead, I pulled away from his lips, staring at him with hooded eyes.
“I’m going to make you come so hard you forget that you’re supposed to be the world’s biggest asshole,” I growled, sliding down the glass before slowly taking his entire cock in my mouth and back against my throat. He tensed and let out a deep moan. I looked up at him, his palms and forehead resting on the glass, his eyes closed tight. He looked vulnerable, and he looked gorgeous in his abandon.
But he wasn’t vulnerable. He was the biggest jerk on the planet and I was on my knees in front of him. No fucking way.
So instead of giving him what I knew he wanted, I stood up, pulled my skirt back down, and met his eyes. It was easier now, without him touching me and making me feel things he had no business doing.
The seconds ticked by, neither of us looking away.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he rasped. “Get on your knees and open your mouth.”
“Not a chance.”
I pulled the front of my buttonless shirt together and walked out, praying my shaky legs wouldn’t betray me.
Grabbing my purse from my desk, I threw my blazer on, trying desperately to fasten the button with my trembling fingers. Mr. Ryan still hadn’t come out, and I ran to the elevator praying to God it would get there before I had to face him again.
I couldn’t even let myself think about what happened until I was out of there. I’d let him fuck me, give me the most amazing orgasm of my life, and then I’d left him with his pants around his ankles in the company conference room with the worst case of blue balls known to any man. If this was someone else’s life I would be high-fiving them so hard. Too bad it wasn’t.
Shit.
The doors opened and I entered, quickly pushing the button and watching as each floor counted down. As soon as the elevator reached the lobby I raced out and down the hall. I briefly heard the security guard say something about working late, but I just waved and sped past him.
With each step the ache between my legs reminded me of the events of the last hour. As I reached my car I unlocked it with the remote, pulled open the door, and collapsed into the safety of the leather seats. I looked up at myself in the rearview mirror.
What in the fuck was that?
Two
Christ. I am so fucking screwed.
I’d been staring at my ceiling since I woke up thirty minutes ago. Brain: a mess. Dick: hard.
Well, hard again.
I scowled at the ceiling. It didn’t matter how many times I’d jerked off after she left me last night, it never seemed to go away. And though I didn’t think it was possible, it was worse than the hundreds of other times I’d woken up this way. Because this time, I knew what I was missing. And she hadn’t even let me come.
Nine months. Nine fucking months of morning wood, jacking off, and endless fantasies about someone I didn’t even want. Well, that wasn’t completely true. I wanted her. I wanted her more than any woman I’d ever seen. The big problem was I also hated her.
And she hated me too. I mean, she really hated me. In all my thirty-one years, I had never met someone who pushed my buttons like Miss Mills.
Just her name made my dick twitch. Fucking traitor. I stared down at where I tented my sheets. This stupid appendage got me into this mess to begin with. I rubbed my hands across my face and sat up.
Why couldn’t I just keep it in my pants? I’d managed for almost a year. And it had worked. I kept my distance, bossed her around, hell, even I’ll admit I’d been a bastard. And then I just lost it. All it took was one moment, sitting in that quiet room, her smell all around me and that fucking skirt, her ass in my face. I snapped.
I was sure that if I just had her once, it would be disappointing and the wanting would be over. I’d finally have some peace. But here I was, in my bed, hard, as if I hadn’t come in weeks. I looked at the clock, and it had only been four hours.
I took a quick shower, scrubbing myself roughly as if to remove any trace of her left from last night. This was going to stop, this had to stop. Bennett Ryan didn’t act like some horny teenager, and I certainly did not fuck around in my office. The last thing I needed was a clingy woman ruining everything. I couldn’t allow Miss Mills to have this control over me.
Everything was so much better before I knew what I was missing. For as awful as that was, this was million times worse.
I was making my way into my office when she walked in. The way she left last night, practically sprinting out the door, I figured one of two scenarios awaited me. Either she would be making eyes at me, thinking that last night meant something, that we meant something. Or she’d have my ass.
If word got out about what we’d done, not only could I lose my job, but I could lose everything I’d worked for. And yet, as much as I hated her, I couldn’t see her doing something like that. If there was one thing I’d learned about her, it was that she was trustworthy and loyal. She might be a hateful shrew, but I didn’t think she would throw me to the lions. She had worked for Ryan Media Group since college and was a valued part of the company for a reason. Now she was only months from obtaining her MBA and would have her pick of jobs when she was ready. No way would she jeopardize that.
But I’ll be damned if she didn’t completely ignore me. She walked in wearing a knee-length trench coat. It shielded whatever was beneath, but did a fantastic job showing off those amazing legs.
Oh shit . . . if she was wearing those shoes, there was a good chance . . . No, not that dress. Please, for the love of God, not that dress. I knew for a fact there was no way I had the willpower for that shit today.
I glared at her as she hung her jacket in her closet and sat down at her desk.
Well, fuck me running, that woman really was the biggest tease in the entire world.
It was the white dress. With a neckline that dipped down to accentuate the soft smooth skin of her neck and collarbone, and white fabric clinging perfectly to those gorgeous tits, the dress was the bane of my existence, my heaven and hell wrapped in one delicious package.
The hem fell just below her knees and it was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. It wasn’t provocative in any way, but there was something about the cut and that goddamn virginal white that had me hard practically all day. And she always left her hair down when she wore it. One of my recurring fantasies was of taking all of the damned pins out of her hair before I grabbed a handful and fucked her.
God, she pissed me off.
When she still didn’t acknowledge me, I turned and stormed into my office, slamming the door behind me. Why was she still affecting me this way? I’d never had anyone or anything distract me from work, and I hated her for being the first.
But part of me relished the memory of her victorious expression as she turned and left me gasping and practically begging her to suck me off. The girl had a spine made of steel.
I bit back a grin and focused instead on hating her.
Work. I would just focus on work and stop thinking about her. I walked over to my desk and sat down, trying to direct my attention to anything but thoughts of how amazing those lips felt around me last night.
Not conducive, Bennett.
I flipped open my laptop to check my schedule for the day. My schedule . . . shit. The bitch had the most up-to-date version in her computer. Hopefully I wasn’t missing any meetings this morning, because I was not calling Ice Queen in here until I absolutely had to.
As I was going over a spreadsheet, a knock came at my door. “Come in,” I called out. A white envelope was slammed down onto my desk. I looked up to see Miss Mills staring down at me with a defiantly crooked eyebrow. Without an explanation, she turned and walked out of my office.
I glared at the envelope, panicked. Likely it was a formal letter detailing my conduct and indicating her intent to file a harassment suit. I expected letterhead and her scribbled signature at the bottom of the page.
What I didn’t expect was a sales receipt from an online clothing store . . . charged to the company credit card. I shot up out of the chair and raced out of my office after her. She was headed for the stairwell. Good. We were on the eighteenth floor, and nobody, besides maybe the two of us, ever used the stairs. I could scream at her all I wanted and no one would be the wiser.
The door closed with a heavy clang and her heels echoed their way down the stairs just in front of me.
“Miss Mills, where in the hell do you think you’re going?”
She continued walking without turning back to look at me. “We’re out of coffee,” she hissed. “So as your office girl, I’m going down to the café on fourteen to retrieve some. Can’t have you missing out on your caffeine fix.”
How could someone so hot be such a bitch? I caught up to her on the landing between floors and grabbed her arm, pushing her against the wall. Her eyes narrowed contemptuously at me, her teeth clenched in a hiss. I whipped the receipt up in front of her face as I glared back at her. “What is this?”
&n
bsp; She shook her head. “You know, for such a pompous know-it-all, you really are a stupid son of a bitch sometimes. What does it look like? It’s a receipt.”
“I can see that,” I growled through my teeth, crumpling the paper into my clenched fist. I pressed the sharp tip of it into the delicate skin just above her breast and felt my cock twitch when she gasped and her eyes dilated. “Why are you making clothing purchases on your company credit card?”
“Some bastard tore my blouse.” She shrugged her shoulders and then leaned her face closer to me and whispered, “And my panties.”
Well, fuck.
I took a deep breath through my nose and threw the paper to the floor, leaning forward and pressing my lips against hers and digging my fingers into her hair, pinning her body against the wall. My dick throbbed against her abdomen as I felt her hand mirror my own and grip my hair, fisting it roughly.
I pulled her dress up along her thighs and groaned into her mouth as my fingers once again found the lace edge of her thigh highs. She did this to torment me, she had to. I felt her tongue run over my lips as my fingertips brushed the warm and wet material of her panties. I clenched my hold around the fabric and gave it a rough tug.
“Make a note to order another pair then,” I hissed and then pressed my tongue between her lips and into her mouth.
She groaned deeply as I thrust two fingers inside of her, and if it was possible, she was even wetter than she’d been last night. Seriously fucked-up situation we have going on here. She broke away from my lips with a gasp as I fucked her hard with my fingers, my thumb rubbing vigorous circles on her clit.
“Get your cock out,” she said. “I need to feel you in me. Now.”
I narrowed my eyes at her, trying to hide the effect her words had on me.
“Say please, Miss Mills.”
“Now,” she said more urgently.
“Bossy much?”
She gave me a look that would shrivel the dick off a lesser man and I laughed in spite of myself. Mills could hold her own. “Good thing I’m feeling generous.”
Beautiful Bastard Page 2
