up for, even if it is still new and hard to grasp.
But despite her anger and self-preservation, Sorcha was still wet, embarrassingly so. Clenching her thighs in hopes he didn’t see her arousal sliding down her inner legs, she knew by his smirk and the way he glanced down at her pussy that he knew she was worked up for him. He moved over to the edge of the bed, but didn’t sit down right away. Instead he undid the button of his jeans and pulled the zipper down.
He removed his shirt and tossed it aside, and for a few seconds all she could do was stare at him. He was golden in color, and so damn defined that she felt like the Marshmallow Man compared to him, all squishy and soft.
Yeah, he was hard, and that wasn’t counting his clear erection pressing against the front of his jeans. He had no hair on his chest save for the dark trail that started right below his navel and disappeared beneath his pants.
He crooked a finger at her like she was some kind of toy to him—which she supposed that was exactly what she was. Of course she had dreamed about this moment, kept it deep down inside of her because a part of her was disgusted that she could want a man as asinine as Rian Hartford.
He pushed his jeans down so they fell to his calves, and then sat on the edge of the bed. He was like steel between his thighs, thick and long, and the drop of pre-cum at the tip told her exactly how worked up he was.
Sorcha moved toward him on slightly shaky legs, and when she was about to drop to her knees he stopped her with hands on her hips. For a second all he did was look at her face, but then as the time ticked by, he lowered his gaze to her breasts.
Her nipples were already hard from the chilled air after her bath, and because she was turned on, but she felt them harden further under his penetrating stare.
He smoothed his hands over her breasts, and she tried to control her breathing, because it felt really good.
“Tell me you like it, even though I’ve pissed you off.” There was amusement in his voice, but he was focused on the way he was kneading her flesh to really sound genuine in it.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she said a little breathlessly. “You’d like to gloat.” He squeezed her breasts more roughly, and a gasp left her. The discomfort was immediately replaced by this pleasure that shocked her.
He grinned, but it was a little ruthless in appearance. “I’d love it, Sorcha,” he said on this deep, sandpapery growl.
She licked her lips, felt her nails dig further into her skin from the force of her tightened hands into fists, and slowly said, “Yes, it feels good.”
He chuckled and removed his hands from her breasts, but instead of letting her get on with this he moved his palms down to her pussy. There he slipped a hand between her legs and spread her pussy lips with his fingers. “You hated saying that, didn’t you?” He glanced up at her. “You don’t have to answer, because I can see how much you’re fighting your reaction to me by the expressions on your face.”
He continued to run the pads of his fingers through her folds, spreading her moisture around her clit, and having her on the verge of coming.
He finally pulled his fingers away, but like he had done in the office, he brought them to his mouth, sucked them clean of her wetness, and then reached out to wrap his hand around the nape of her neck. He pulled her down so she was forced to brace her hands on the bed to steady herself.
And then Rian was kissing her, pushing his tongue between her lips, and forcing her to taste herself on him again. He groaned deeply, and she felt him dig his fingertips into her flesh until the pleasure and pain became one. He pulled away far too soon, but she’d never admit that out loud.
Rian leaned back and shifted so she was right up close and personal with his straining erection.
She swallowed and slowly knelt before him. Reaching out with shaky fingers, she wrapped her hand around his length, and was stunned to feel how hot he was.
“You see how hard you make me?” His eyes were half-lidded, and he watched her