The Chase

by Vanessa Fewings

  God, yes.

  His lips forced mine wider and then he began leisurely flicks with his tongue into my mouth, and my sigh morphed into a moan. His fingers trailed down my blouse, unbuttoning as he went, easing it off my shoulders, and I leaned back, raising my arms and shimmying slightly to help him remove it.

  I’m going to burn up from this, I thought. I’ll be left a wreck. And yet instead of pushing him away, I held him to me as my tongue dared to enter his mouth and tangle with his.

  When his lips broke from mine, I let out the softest moan of a need unquenched.

  His kisses trailed down my neck and farther still, until he suckled my left nipple through my bra. My fingers curled over the lace cup and I tugged it down, giving him full access to that pert nipple. A burst of pleasure shuddered through me as he circled and suckled with determination, moving to the left now and dragging his teeth over it and eliciting a shock of bliss.

  My head fell back and locks of my hair spilled behind me. “It’s too much.”

  He cupped my face with his hands. “I need to be inside you. Do you understand?”

  Blinking, jaw gaping, I stuttered through another breath, realizing my final words to Tobias had set me up for this and it was here in my office, with people on the other side of that door carrying on regardless, with no idea what was going on in here.

  I exulted in the rush of danger of having Tobias taking me like this.

  He feels it too, I told myself, he’s just as drawn to me as I am to him, a magnetic pull that neither of us can fight anymore. This mysterious, brilliant man, an astounding vision of masculinity, all hard muscle and powerful stride.

  He shrugged out of his jacket and threw it across the room, making quick work of his shirt and yanking that off too.

  Tobias stepped toward me and paused as though measuring my reaction.

  A wave of dizziness struck me when I ran my hand over his firm torso, my fingertips running along that intricate Polynesian tattoo on his left shoulder. My gaze flittered to the Latin writing hidden by his trousers, and he caught me looking there.

  “What does it say?” My fingertips traced the edge of his belt.

  He tipped up my chin. “Secretus.”

  “You mean it’s a secret?” I hardly knew any Latin but I knew that.

  “I’m not here to discuss me.”

  Tobias oozed virility, masterfully comfortable with every move he made, with each easy action proving he was a fierce alpha claiming his prize.

  He shoved me back along the desk and his hand cupped behind my head to protect it as it went, and then he gripped my hips and dragged me toward him, sliding up my skirt and hiking it up around my waist. Nimble fingers tugged at my panties and dragged them down my thighs and off my legs, and then he opened my thighs with his firm hands and leaned in between my parted legs, his face inches from my sex.

  Staring at the ceiling, my face on fire, my breathing ragged—

  Arching my back as his tongue circled my clit, steadily thrumming, his fingers peeling back my folds farther to allow him longer sweeps that sent me hurtling close to the edge.

  “Please,” I managed.

  “Want me to stop?” His breath was warm on me.

  “No, never stop.” My back arched higher when he slid two fingers inside me and my muscles clenched against his gentle thrusts, milking him. I let out a gasp when he pressed my G-spot and at the same time his tongue came down on my swollen clit and he began a mind-blowing rhythm.

  His right hand reached for my mouth. He muffled my groan as I came, wave after wave of pleasure that felt never ending, eyelids squeezed shut, shuddering through.

  Tobias lifted his head. “I wanted to taste you like this the first moment I set eyes on you.”

  My face burned like fire as my brain flashed that image of our first meeting in The Otillie basement, the realization unhinging my equilibrium.

  In a wave of dizziness, the back of my head struck the desk.

  Swooning, lost to reason, I let him turn me over up onto all fours, my head low and my forehead meeting the desk, my arse up in the air as he dragged me back toward him.

  “Ready?” he said huskily.

  The sound of a packet ripping open.

  I peeked to see him glide on that condom over his hefty erection, his cock curled upward and achingly stiff, immovable.

  No.

  “Leighton, are you ready?” he repeated.

  “Yes,” I managed, biting down on my hand, readying for his first thrust.

  “Shush,” he soothed, his hand reaching around to run along my cleft, finding and flicking that perfect place on the hood of my clit sending a pulse of pleasure...

  Sending me into euphoria.

  My throaty groan of need subdued as I pressed my mouth against the back of my hand.

  At the same time the tip of his cock tapped my entrance, before easing in, pausing inch by inch as he waited for me to stretch and accommodate his hugeness.

  “Both hands on the desk,” he commanded.

  Bracing myself, I readied for him, holding my breath, this sudden fear caught in my throat.

  “Hold on tight.” Easing all the way in, Tobias’s languid glide felt surreal, as though he’d tuned into my body’s needs, its limits, with each passing second altering his movements until I relaxed against him, arching my spine and tilting my butt up to greet him and ease his glide all the way in, my sex rippling around him, my overly sensitized clit throbbing each time his balls struck there.

  It wasn’t enough, I yearned for more...

  As though reading my mind, his hand swept round to play with me again. “Oh yes.” I pushed back.

  My need for faster, harder strikes were sensed by him too, his pummeling teasing me, leading me on, keeping me at the height of ecstasy as though he alone could control when I came.

  Curling his left hand through my hair and gripping it tightly, he tugged my head back, lighting this primal yearning to be taken, my wish fueled as he drove into me fiercely, the soft sound of him slapping against me, the feel of his balls striking my sex until I could no longer hold back and had to let go, becoming his, my body lax, my thighs trembling in response to his pummeling.

  The climax captured me, mind, body and soul splintering like glass, this pleasure so intense, so blinding, that I barely caught my last thought that I’d never experienced anything like this.

  I’d never felt so enraptured.

  Never had an orgasm owned me beyond all reason.

  “Leighton.” He moaned. “You feel incredible. I knew you would.” Swirling his hips in a circle.

  Couldn’t speak, couldn’t think...too much pleasure was centered in my core to be able to string any thoughts together.

  “So good.” He drove onward. “I need to be deeper.”

  Tobias lifted me and brought up my legs until they wrapped around his waist, my arms flung naturally around his neck, my face nuzzling into his neck, and breathing him in, his heady musk mingled with his intoxicating scent.

  He lifted me up and carried me with him still inside me—

  My back struck the wall but the coldness behind me was muted by the distraction of the heat coming off him. Tobias was all sleek muscle and bold motion, a chiseled perfection. That jolted thrust, my tautness pulling him in as his full length filled me again with its vastness.

  He whispered huskily near my ear. “I’m balls deep inside you. Do you feel that?”

  “God, yes,” I breathed in a rush.

  Propelling his hips against mine, taking me so hard that another orgasm snatched my breath away, and I buried my face in the nook of his neck as I came, dissolving into the purest intimacy, as though we’d always known each other like this, our oneness so natural, his firm hold making me his willing prisoner.

 
Tobias stilled, spilling his heat inside me. “Leighton...”

  Resuming, gliding in and out and proving he too wanted this to go on forever. Suspended against the wall I remembered to breathe again.

  He pulled back slightly, his cock still buried deep, his eyes searching my face. “I couldn’t stay away any longer.”

  My body shuddered at those words.

  He eased out of me and set me down, and my legs felt shaky as my feet touched the carpet. He disposed of his condom and then returned to my side.

  I stood there stunned into stillness, allowing him to redress me, his expression unreadable as he clipped the clasp together on my bra strap, his fingers sensually easing my breasts back into their lace cups, my nipples tingling as the pad of his thumb brushed over delicate skin.

  He strolled over to the tissue box and pulled out a few.

  My jaw went lax with embarrassment as I watched him wipe my sex with gentle sweeps, the intimacy so mind-blowing I lost my voice. His touch almost sent me over again.

  Tobias gave a slight smile and kissed the end of my nose and then threw the tissues in the bin beneath the desk.

  With the ease of a worldly man he knelt at my feet and helped me slide back into my panties, before raising them up my legs and pulling the thin strap of my thong into place. He continued to dress me.

  Left to work on my hair and get these wayward locks back into some level of neatness, I watched him zip up his trousers, and then slip on his shirt and jacket, his eyes on the carpet as though avoiding mine.

  He refastened his cuff links.

  “Tobias?” I whispered.

  He neared me and rested his hand on my neck, and I tilted my head to rest it in his palm, our eyes met, our gazes locked as we drew out this moment of affection.

  “Leighton,” he said softly.

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  “Your beauty is haunting.”

  All air left the room; my eyelids flittered at the deliriousness of his words.

  My mind searching for answers about a man I hardly knew, my focus returned to the desk where he’d just taken me. “What just happened?”

  He broke away and ran his fingers through his hair to tone down the mayhem of his dark blond locks. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “What for?”

  “Dinner.”

  I let out the softest sigh of happiness. A smile shimmered across his lips.

  Then I remembered. “I have a meeting at seven at Christie’s. Can we push it an hour?”

  He strolled over to me. “Cancel it.”

  “Not sure I can.”

  He flicked a stray hair out of my eyes. “Do I need to fuck some sense into you?” He arched an amused brow. “Again?”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  He leaned in and kissed me leisurely, his scalding hot mouth owning mine with each sweep of his tongue. “Good.”

  My body liquefied when he broke away.

  Tobias strolled over to the blinds and with a curl of his fingers sunlight burst back into the room.

  He let out a deep sigh. “You’re extraordinary.”

  Rousing from this luxurious reality, I felt like I’d reached the surface after swimming from the very depths of the ocean to awaken—

  Letting him take me like this couldn’t go on. I couldn’t repeat this level of intensity and continue as though I’d never met this man. He was leaving for the States, for goodness’ sake.

  Yet I knew denying myself him was near impossible. Oh my God, I’d just done it in my office.

  With him.

  A man I hardly knew, gorgeous, yes, but outrageously controlling.

  I straightened my skirt. “This is Britain, Mr. Wilder, not the Wild West.”

  He paused by the door and gave a heart-stopping smile.

  Damn him, for making me giddy with excitement, my knees weak, these butterflies in my stomach threatening to last forever.

  Tobias unlocked the door and strolled out with the same swagger he’d walked in with.

  I could still smell him on me.

  Wilder had just branded me with his scent.

  12

  Huntly Pierre’s team were gathered for their five o’clock meeting.

  I put my game face on, conveying a purely business attitude, not wanting to give anything away about my late lunch meeting that had morphed into a sex romp around my office with one of our most distinguished clients.

  Tobias William Wilder, fricking hell, even his name was fused with sensuality.

  Having spent the last twenty minutes gathering myself in the restroom, working on my hair and reapplying makeup, I now tried to wipe this ridiculous grin off my face.

  My insides were melting just thinking of him.

  Tobias had just turned my world upside down and I kept reliving every delicious detail, savoring every kiss, every touch and every move he’d made to rock my world just now.

  Pulling out a chair, I blew out a concentrated breath to get me back in the zone as I joined them at the conference table.

  Lead investigator Abby Reynolds sat at the end of the table working away on a text. Her sharp eyes seemingly not missing anything when they rose to meet mine, and she frowned her response.

  I threw her a professional smile and self-consciously ran my fingers through my hair, reassuring myself I’d tamed these post-fucked curls.

  Shane Hannah sat beside her and offered me a welcoming smile. I imagined nothing shocked either of these two ex-police officers. Next to Shane sat Brandon Forbes, his laptop open in front of him, proving his tech skills were poised if needed.

  Danny Kenner was busying himself for his presentation at the front of the room, setting up the audiovisual display system and deftly working the cables into the high-tech equipment. He’d just returned from Scotland Yard and was excited to share what he’d learned from the team directing the investigation.

  The scent of freshly brewed coffee and sugary doughnuts permeated the air. Adley hurried on in and took the seat beside mine.

  He leaned toward me. “Heard you authenticated a Lowry?”

  I braced myself for his annoyance.

  “You talked the couple through the process?” he clarified.

  I turned to face him. “They really did seem financially challenged.”

  “They’re going through Sotheby’s?”

  “I believe so.” Warily, I held his gaze.

  “Harriet Fairweather’s requested an official report and paid her deposit. Good work, Leighton.”

  A wave of relief washed over me. “Thank you, sir.”

  “We’ll get your 10 percent commission deposited into your account.” His smile reached his eyes. “Let’s have our clients’ payment go through first, next time.”

  “Got a bit carried away.”

  “You’re art obsessed.” His grin widened. “Which makes you perfect for us.” He swiveled in his chair to face the others. “Okay, where are we on this?”

  There was something comforting about hearing Danny’s accent, his voice booming with the confidence Americans always seemed to have. Even his mannerisms reminded me of Wilder—the way Danny beamed a smile when asked a question, his patience when interrupted by Adley or Shane, or even when Abby asked him to clarify an issue.

  “We’ve been invited to participate in an Interpol investigation.” Danny’s gaze stayed on Adley. “Sir, we’d benefit from the insurance commission so it’s financially viable.”

  “I’m listening,” said Adley.

  “Interpol has tracked a series of thefts across Europe,” Danny began. “The heists all have the same modus operandi, with there being a series of two to three robberies in each country. All from private homes. Then the spate ceases abruptly. Paris seem
ingly being the last city hit so far. Right before London. They believe it’s connected to the other cases we’ve been tracking. Which means the ones in London are part of a bigger picture.”

  “Same power cuts?” asked Abby.

  “Lights out building-wide on either side of the theft,” confirmed Danny. “Power outages every time, sometimes entire streets out for hours. But more important, the CCTV cameras are dead during the theft.”

  “In case a street camera catches him going in,” I realized.

  “Not one scrap of forensic evidence left?” asked Shane.

  “Have they matched the fingerprint?” I asked.

  “Belonged to their housekeeper,” Danny confirmed with a nod. “Our man is in and out and there’s nothing to prove he was even there. Except one heist where he made a mess of their ceiling when he used it as his entry point—”

  “So we know we’re looking for a man,” Adley confirmed.

  “The strength alone needed for these thefts points to a man,” said Danny. “Interpol believes he scaled a castle wall for one of them. Château de Falaise, in Normandy.”

  “The thrill of the chase?” Brandon mused.

  “And back in France during a heist, our culprit once left with the painting still inside the frame,” Danny said incredulously. “Interpol is putting it down to a man due to the size and weight of the frame.”

  “He couldn’t get the canvas out?” I muttered.

  “Must have really wanted it,” agreed Abby.

  Shane made a note in his book. “He didn’t want to cut it and reduce its value?”

  “Or perhaps he cares about the art?” I sat up. “The frame was important for the provenance. Do you think he considered that?”

  “How do they know it’s not a team?” asked Shane.

  “The underworld gossips,” said Danny. “Prisoners’ gossip. Whoever is doing this is a professional, and they look like they’re working alone.”

  “So if they think this is connected,” said Abby, “we have one theft left and the guy’s gone.”

  “Off to the next city,” Adley agreed.

  “So, this is the same MO as the Jaeger case?” I asked.