Last Name - Dr. Rebecca Sharp Page 0,48

command.

“James…”

A smile tipped one corner of my mouth as I undid my belt and the waist of my pants, letting out a hard breath of relief when my cock sprang free.

Hooking my fingers under the edge of her underwear, I yanked the soaked fabric to the side of her pussy, baring her pink, swollen folds to my gaze. Spreading them wide, I rubbed the length of my cock along her slit, coating my hard flesh with her slickness.

She bucked against me, her words of restraint evaporated out of her in small needy pants.

“And second,” I ground out, swirling the engorged head of my dick at her delicate glistening entrance. “There is nothing more important than the pursuit of pleasure, mademoiselle.” Her eyes popped open, heated and locked on mine. “Or love.”

I watched my statement spear right into the center of her chest just as I shoved my cock deep inside her waiting, warm pussy.

I staked my claim, her pleasure and her love.

And then I fucked her like the fake French asshole I was, rough and hard against her desk, not caring who could hear.

But even though I didn’t care, the pleasure that came was the kind too intense to allow any effort or energy to be diverted by a single other action. Not moaning. Not pleading. It was too potent for any of that.

There was nothing except the frantic slap of my hips into hers. The sound of paper shuffling under her body though I tried to hold her hips steady as I impaled her.

Her lips parted and she stared up at me with eyes that screamed and pleaded all the words that pleasure handcuffed inside her chest.

My suit began to cling to the sheen of sweat coating my body as I drove into the tight clamp of her pussy. I couldn’t last. Not the way I wanted her. Not the way I was taking her.

Reaching between us, I ground my teeth together, holding my breath, as I found her needy, swollen clit.

I needed her to come. Though it just might kill me.

I tweaked the bud with my fingers and she exploded with a soundless scream, gasping in air as her body cinched and locked around me. The contraction of her pussy started at the base of my cock and rolled all the way up its length like she was determined to wring the cum right out of me.

And she did.

As her body squeezed the head of my cock, I exploded. Hot jets of release shooting against her womb, soaking her pussy with my orgasm.

The feeling would never get old—claiming her in this way.

It was the same possessiveness I felt when I thought of her as my wife—knowing that this meant she was mine to adore. Mine to keep.

I bent over her, pressing soft kisses along her cheek over to her ear.

“I’ll be a fake anything for you, gorgeous,” I said with a low, hoarse voice. Biting gently on her earlobe, I sucked the flesh between my teeth before adding, “Except a fake husband.”

The smile I’d returned to my office with an hour ago hadn’t faltered. It was stuck in this happy, goofy place where I couldn’t believe my luck.

Luck was always an interesting concept for me.

Growing up around casinos, seeing what gambling did to people, knowing what I’d had to do in order to save my family’s business… I never relied on luck. It was too risky.

I relied on playing the odds. Of knowing exactly what my chances were, and what I was risking.

But Carrie…

If I’d been asked weeks ago what the chances were of finding the woman of my dreams—the love of my life—while in Vegas at a bachelor party, I would’ve said not to waste the money on a bet because there was zero chance.

But then she’d fallen into my arms, and now I refused to let her go.

I knew she wanted to take things slow. I knew she wanted to follow the path outlined by society and reach marriage in the appropriate way, but if there was anything I’d learned from these last few days, it was that marriage was where this was headed whether she was ready to admit it or not.

But I was going to do my damnedest to make her see that before we wasted time getting an annulment only for me to make her mine once more.

“Mr. Arden?” I looked up at the soft knock on my door.

“Come in.”

My secretary, Lucy, peered in. “There’s a Mr. Brown on the phone. He says