Page 64 of Choosing the Rejected Mate

His breath shudders.“Here?”

“We are in a storage closet with a desk.It’s practically romantic.”

He laughs, the sound rough and helpless.“You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet?”

“And yet I want you more than I can think.”The words heat my blood.

He lifts me onto the desk, scattering invoices, a pen cup, and one unpaid bill I fully intend to blame him for later.His mouth finds mine again, deeper now, hungrier, while his hands slide over my thighs beneath my skirt.

I gasp when his fingers brush the edge of my panties.

He pauses instantly.“Still with me?”

“Yes.”I pull him closer.“Don’t stop unless I say.”

His eyes burn.“Words like that are going to kill me.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Barely.”

His hand slips into my panties, fingers finding me wet and aching for him.The first touch makes my head fall back against the wall.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans.“You’re soaked.”

My cheeks flame.

He kisses my jaw, my throat, the corner of my mouth.“Don’t be embarrassed.Never be embarrassed with me.This is perfect.You’re perfect.I love knowing you want me like this.”

The praise rolls through me, loosening something tight and wounded.

I grip his shoulders.“Daniel.”

“I’ve got you.”His fingers move slowly, circling, teasing, learning me all over again.“That’s it.Open for me.Let me make you feel good.”

The office is too small.Too warm.Too cluttered with receipts and fear and him.Daniel’s scent wraps around me, grounding and somehow still wild.His mouth stays near my ear, his words rough and constant.

“You’re so damn strong, Holly.So beautiful when you let yourself have this.Let go for me, sweetheart.I’m right here.”

Pleasure builds fast, sharpened by emotion, by the fight still buzzing under my skin, by the knowledge that this is my choice.My body.

I rock against his hand, chasing the feeling.

Daniel growls softly.“Good girl.Take what you need.”

That breaks me wide open.My orgasm crashes through me, sudden and bright.I bury my face against his neck to muffle the cry, my body shaking as his fingers work me through every wave.He holds me steady with his other arm wrapped tight around my waist.

When I finally sag against him, breathless and trembling, he kisses my temple.“There you are,” he murmurs.

I laugh weakly.“You say very dangerous things.”

“I think you like them.”

“I do.That’s the problem.”

He smiles against my hair, and I notice the hard length of him pressed against my thigh.My hand moves to his belt, but he catches my wrist.