Page 31 of Edge of Secrets (The Edge Trilogy #2)
I collapsed over his shoulder, breathless and limp—blushing and damp with sweat as the aftershocks rippled through me. I could feel his heartbeat in his cockhead, throbbing deep inside. A deep, steady, pulsing rhythm. So close to me. I loved it.
I lifted my head and the look on his face took me by surprise. Not that taut, tense mask of self-control he wore while I was pleasuring myself with his body. This expression was very different. Soft. Almost wistful.
“What are you thinking?” I asked him.
He touched my eyebrow, then my cheekbone, then my lips. “I was just wondering what a kid of ours might look like.”
Those words pierced me with a strange mix of emotions—joy, fear, fury, hope. That bastard. How dare he. Playing me like a fucking violin.
“Don’t say things like that to me,” I forced out. “It’s reckless.”
He shrugged. “You asked what I was thinking. I told you the truth. I always do.”
I dismounted, my breath shuddering out in a low sigh. The sweet, tight, delicious friction as his cock caressed my sensitized inner flesh felt so good.
I stared down at his cock, which stood high and hopeful against his belly. Rigid, pulsing, gleaming with my own balm.
I had no intention of sinking to my knees, but that’s where I ended up, grabbing his thick, pulsing cock, stroking smooth, hot skin.
Licking him, and tasting myself. It was a classic thousand-dollar-an-hour call-girl scenario.
Blowing the boss in his swivel chair in the high-rise corner office.
From the outside, it looked pornographic.
But I wasn’t on the outside. I was so far inside, I was in a whole new world—one where the rules had flipped on their head.
I had changed, too. I felt softer. More joyful.
More sensual. More powerful. I felt fearless, shameless, and burning with a desperate desire to give him pleasure.
To show him my favor. My chest, my face, my throat, my pussy, were all hot, soft, wet, aglow.
Of course. I was crazy in love with him.
I let that thought slide. I didn’t dare examine it—and besides, it took all my concentration to give a blow job to a man as well-endowed as Duncan Burke. He was hung like the proverbial horse. I wasn’t an expert, but oh, so very motivated.
I petted and stroked, swirling my tongue around his cockhead, and tried to draw him deeper. I loved the sounds—the shaking grip of his hands in my hair, the shudders that rippled through him. I was just hitting my stride when his fingers tightened and he let out a choked shout.
His come spurted into my mouth in hard, rhythmic jets.
I staggered to my feet after a few minutes, holding on to the desk for balance, and wiped my mouth. Too shy to look at him. My face was so hot.
He dragged me over between his legs, hugged me around the waist, hid his face against my breasts. All my shyness evaporated, leaving only tenderness.
So he felt vulnerable, too. That eased my ambivalence somehow.
We swayed in a clinch for a long time. He looked up. “There’s a private attached bathroom with a shower right off my office,” he told me, pointing at the door.
I widened my eyes. “How luxurious and elitist of you. What, you can’t bear to pee with the hoi polloi?”
His teeth flashed in the twilight. “There have to be some perks for being the boss,” he said. “I like to run to work sometimes, and I also like to smell good. I keep a few sets of fresh clothes here. So we can clean up. If you want to.”
“You ripped my panties,” I scolded. “Beast. I don’t have another pair with me. I’ll be walking around with my naked lady-bits catching a breeze under my skirt.”
He gave me a look of mock contrition. “And I’ll be walking around with a huge hard-on every time I think about that,” he said.
“Sorry, but I was afraid that if I stopped to peel them all the way down your legs, you’d wimp out on me.
It was a delicate moment and I just couldn’t risk it.
Too much was at stake.” He caressed my ass through my skirt.
“If we hurry, we’ve got time for dinner before we meet your sisters in Queens. ”
“What about the texts that I have to write for the game? I have to have something for Bruce tomorrow!”
He shrugged. “It’s more important that you eat. Come on.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me into a small but luxurious bathroom.
“I thought we were in a hurry,” I protested.
He grabbed a fluffy white towel off a pile on a shelf, and dropped it in my arms, with a devilish grin. “Everything’s relative. And I’m guessing they’ll wait for you.”
He shrugged off his suit jacket, and I froze at the sight of the gun strapped onto his shoulder. “Um, Duncan? What on earth are you doing with that thing?”
He slanted me an “are you kidding” look. “Just being careful.”
“But … carrying a gun? To work?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah,” he said. “Last night, those guys were armed, and I wasn’t.
It was just blind luck and timing that they didn’t kill me and take you, because I wouldn’t have been able to stop them if they’d been even a little more organized.
They weren’t expecting any resistance. They will be next time.
Don’t worry. I have a lot of experience with ‘this thing.’” He unbuttoned my blouse and peeled my stretch lace chemise off over my head, then unhooked my bra.
“That’s, um, not all that reassuring, actually,” I told him. “What experience?”
“Afghanistan, mostly,” he said. “Just trust me. Will you trust me? Please?”
I gazed at him through the wild mess of curly hair that had fallen over my face when he pulled off my lacy undershirt. “Yes,” I said, with absolute sincerity. “I have no doubt about your ability to handle just about anything.”
He herded me into the shower, pinned me against the wall, and proceeded to live up to my faith in him, to the absolute fullest.