He bent his head, still not touching, and inhaled deep. He was granite in seconds.
The rapid rise and fall of her chest told him she wasn’t immune, and as he considered his next move, something came from his mouth that failed to pass through his brain first.
“I apologize.”
Huminuh wha?
He was still trying to figure out why that had slipped out when he felt the tentative touch of unsure fingers at his waist. His brain sputtered. She was touching him. Voluntarily. Had to take advantage while he could.
“I’m…I need to taste you.” Shit. His voice was wasted.
His knees just about failed him when she slowly tilted her head up, as if giving permission but at the same time not sure she wanted to. He came in, unable to wait until she was convinced, and softly touched his lips to hers. The little sound she made against his mouth nearly had him devouring her whole, but he leashed himself. Last thing he wanted to do was frighten her again.
Never.
He dimly questioned the ferocity of that claim as his palm landed on the wall next to her head. For support? Uh, no, not at all. The other finally stole the chance and his fingertips brushed at the silky skin of her long neck. Oh, yeah, so soft.
When he used his thumb under her jaw to angle her head for better access, her lips parted and V’s world shook on its foundation at the sweet taste of her, his body following as his tongue delved deep into the warm cavern of her mouth. He heard the creak of leather at his waist and knew she was fisting the protective material of his duster. He savored the sound like he would his favorite song. And then, then, that first timid brush of her tongue over his came.
A low growl ripped from deep in his chest as his body moved in to cover hers, pressing utter perfection into the wall, learning the softness of her breasts, the flatness of her belly, memorizing the cradle of her hips, the length of her thighs. Holy hell, she was perfect. She fit him per-fect-ly.
He tilted his pelvis, shaking at the thought of grinding his aching—
The doors opened behind him and out of one of the meeting rooms streamed a crowd of chattering women. Who he immediately wanted to lay waste to. Every last fucking one of them for daring to interrupt something so mind-blowing.
He tore his mouth away from hers, but stayed right where he was, hiding her from sight. The erotic little pants coming from her, every inhalation pushing her breasts into his chest, nearly had him going in again, but he didn’t. He focused instead on trying to get his own ragged breathing under control.
“What the fuck am I doing?”
Her words were so faint, V figured she was talking to herself, but they still made him frown. Made him feel bad. He leaned down and put his lips to the top of her bent head. “It’s okay, babe,” he murmured quietly, savoring the feel of her. “They can’t see you.”
She drew back what little she could and looked up at him, and he nearly staggered back from the stark terror in her expression. At least he knew it wasn’t him that had caused the look this time, since she still had a deathlike grip on his jacket, making it impossible for him to put even an inch between them. Not that he would have at this point.
So what was it? Why did she look as if she expected someone to come charging down the hallway and put a bullet in her chest?
“Hey.” His voice was gentle as he stroked his thumb across her jawline. “It’s okay.” Man, he wanted that look gone.
She dropped her lids, shutting him out, and shook her head. “I have to go.”
He scowled at the sensation those words caused somewhere behind his breastplate. He didn’t want her to go. He wanted to take her upstairs to his suite and…talk to her? Fuuuck. Find out her name. Find out what she really did for a living. He wanted to know where she lived. When he could see her again. And, yeah, of course, he wanted to fuck her into a boneless puddle.
“I have to go,” she repeated a little louder, her fingers releasing his leather.
And since the last of the prying eyes had just disappeared around the corner, he had no real reason to keep her there. Dammit. “Then go,” he gritted out without