He makes growling noises that push me over the edge, as though he’s enjoying giving me this ecstasy as much as I enjoy greedily taking it.
He grinds his hands up my thighs and then slides them under my ass cheeks, wedging them between me and the desk and then lifting me up slightly so that he can grind and massage my ass as he licks me.
I squirm in his clutches, grinding my hips against him as the pleasure gets higher and hotter and closer.
Closer.
I surge through the orgiastic blizzard, not giving a damn how curvy I am, or how loud I scream, or anything.
“Now,” I croak, my voice seeming quiet against the rush of my euphoria. “I’m—oh, fuck, I’m, I’m …”
“I can taste it,” he snarls. “I can taste your sweet fucking come. Give it to me, Winter. Give me every last drop. I need to drink it. Fucking come and squirt for me right fucking now. Now.”
I twist my fingers through his iron hair and arch my back, grinding my lips against his mouth.
The orgasm releases a boiling ball of tension from deep inside of me, pleasure-tinged hands spreading out and making me burn as I buck and twitch against his hands, his powerful dominator’s hands still gripping greedily onto my ass cheeks.
Wayne makes gulping sounds, swallowing everything I have to give him, staring at me from between my legs with his intense eyes as I scream with the release.
“Fuck,” he pants afterward, leaning back with his lips glistening. “You gave it all, didn’t you? You gave me every last drop.”
“Hmm,” I moan, sitting up, my breath coming frantically. “I had to. You were too freaking hot, Wayne.”
“No,” he says, with a shimmering smirk. “That’s you. But now I need to feel you. I need to feel how tight that pussy is around my cock. I felt it just now, I felt how tight and needy your hole is—what? Winter?”
I realize I’ve jumped off the desk and wandered to the window, snatching up my sweatpants on the way.
I clutch them to me, standing there bottomless, the ever-present hissing of my nerves returning now that the orgasm has passed.
I stare out at the frozen lake, through the abstract art of the blizzard, spying a few glinting spots here and there where the ice shines brightly.
“Winter?”
“I … there’s something you should know.”
I sigh.
“I’m a—”
Why is this so hard?
“What, Winter?” he says, walking up behind me. “You’re what?”
I spin on him, feeling suddenly ridiculous, as if I could ever be what this man wanted me to be.
“I’m a virgin, Wayne.”
Chapter Six
Wayne
A thunderous wave crashes through my body, pounding into every part of me with the certainty that this is it, this is the moment I’ve been waiting so long for.
My mouth falls open and I suck in a bolstering breath, staring at Winter as she wriggles into the sweatpants and then gazes at me. The way she bites her lip sends signals right to my manhood, no deeper.
To my seed.
It roars at me to take her, to explore her tight wet heat for the first time, to be the first man ever to experience just how gloriously perfect and beautiful she is.
“I know that probably changes a lot,” she mutters. “And I mean, fine, right? Fine. I get it. You expected some nympho. It makes sense. What sort of woman would just come back here and let you do that to her? So you thought to yourself, okay, this woman’s a complete slut. She’ll know all the moves in the bedroom. But the truth, Wayne, is that I know no moves. None at all. And I realize that—”
She breaks off, spins back to the window and walks over to it, full of restless energy.
“Winter,” I growl, finally finding my voice.
I stalk across my office toward her, the scent of her creamy essence still warm in the air, pricking my nose with the undertone of her womb and just how fertile she is. I can smell her fertility, the way her body will sprout and grow when my seed takes its rightful place deep inside of her.
“You’ve just given me the best news I ever could’ve fucking asked for.”
The blizzard has thickened now, making it so that we can see our partial reflections in the darkening glass. She pricks her eyebrows up and her lips twitch sideways, a half-smirk.
“Yeah, right,” she says sarcastically.
“Did you really think I just want to fuck you?” I place my hands on her shoulders and lean close, whispering in her ear, feeling a tremor move through her. “It’s my fault. I let my desire for you run away with me. But how couldn’t I? You are desire, Winter.”
“What do you mean?” she whispers.
“I don’t just want to fuck you. I want to put a baby inside of you. I want to shoot my seed inside of you and watch my baby grow in your womb. You’re mine. I knew it the second I saw you standing in the snow, like a goddess from a goddamned fairytale. You’re mine and you’ll always be mine. Nobody else – ever – gets to fucking touch you. That’s what I thought the second I saw you.”
She spins and her eyes widen, her jewel-green eyes pricking with curiosity, with fear, with need.
“What sort of game is this?” she says in a hushed tone.
“Game?” I laugh grimly. “I couldn’t play games with you even if I wanted to. You’re too … ah, Jesus Christ, you’re too right, Winter. It’s difficult to explain. I’ve always wanted children, especially a child who could take over my business one day. My board of directors – all boards of directors – they try to be good people, but all they care about is the bottom line. They don’t see the big picture. Blood, family, that’s what matters. But I knew I’d never settle for just anybody. And then I saw you, and my whole world changed. I know it’s fast. I know it doesn’t make any sense—”
“Shouldn’t,” she whispers, in that same wanting-to-believe tone. “It shouldn’t make sense. And yet it feels like it does. But … You know what, Wayne? This is really hard for me.”
I wrap my arms around her waist and pull our bodies together, as though they could be in any other configuration, as though Winter and Wayne belong anywhere else but pressed close with the sultry heat of our inexplicable and definitive need burning between us.
“I know,” I whisper. “But this isn’t a trick, Winter. I never thought I’d feel like this, so quickly. I never thought this kind of primal need existed. But it does. When I look at you, I know I’d do anything to keep you mine. And when you told me you were a virgin, that just confirmed it. You’re mine, only mine, and no other man is ever going to get to feel that perfect hot, tight, pink pussy of yours.”
“I feel the same,” she says, hugging even closer to me, her body so hot I can feel her own need scorching through her skin. “But you’re right. It makes no sense. Jeez, Wayne, if I was writing this in a story, I’d find it so freaking difficult to believe, you know? But I feel it. I feel this … I feel something inside of me, something so real it aches, my whole body aches. I want to be claimed by you. But what if you’re lying? Huh? Because that could be true.”