Fiona Brand - Takeover In The Boardroom

It felt so incredible still dressed, she could not fathom what it would be like once they were naked skin pressed to naked skin.

Vik made a rumbling sound of approval in his throat before his body shifted and then she was being lifted into his arms as he stood.

The man was strong. Following on that thought came another.

They were really going to do this.

For the first time, Maddie was glad she was a twenty-four-year-old virgin.

She wanted no past experiences shadowing this moment with him. No memories of hands on her flesh but his.

Vik carried her unerringly into to her bedroom, lowering her back to her feet and pulling his mouth from hers. She didn’t want to stop and used her hold on his neck to lift herself back up so the kiss could continue.

It was only natural to swing her legs up and around his waist, locking her ankles behind his back.

Something about her actions flipped a switch in Vik and the kiss went nuclear. His mouth devoured hers as he cupped her bottom through the rustling silk of her dress’s full skirt.

Overwhelmed by sensation, Maddie lost her connection to anything but the kiss. She did not know how long their mouths ate at each other. Nothing registered but the sparks of pleasure he ignited in her rapidly fanning into a conflagration that consumed.

She wasn’t even aware he’d moved them to the bed until he broke away from her and she didn’t fall to the floor.

She mewled with her need to reconnect to his lips, a sound that would have mortified her if she was not too lost to desire to care.

“Vik!” she demanded, no other word coming to the forefront of her mind.

His smile was feral and hot. But the wink that came with it was hotter. “Clothes.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

ONE WORD BUT IT was all Maddie needed.

She sat up and reached back to unzip her dress. It was tricky at the best of times, the top of the zipper hitting her in the center of her back.

With her hands trembling from need, it was impossible. So frustrated she could almost cry, she struggled to unzip it.

All the while, she couldn’t pull her eyes from Vik. He’d ripped his Armani sweater off and tossed it on the floor, the black T-shirt he wore under it joining the pile of cashmere a second later.

His belt made a whoosh as he pulled it out of his trousers and the buckle clunked against the wall when he tossed it. His tailored slacks were next, dropping to reveal a straining bulge behind dark designer briefs.

“Your body is beautiful,” she breathed in awe.

Every muscle of his six-foot-four-inch frame was honed. Dark hair covered his chest, narrowing to a trail that disappeared into the waistband of his briefs.

She didn’t know if it was the dark, clingy fabric or reality, or even her oversensitized emotions, but Vik looked huge.

Maddie’s thighs clenched even as her fingers itched to touch. And she hadn’t seen the actual package yet.

Vik looked back, his own expression filled with desire. “You’re still dressed,” he accused.

“I know,” she said with pure frustration.

He winked again, the expression just as mind-bogglingly sexy this time as the first. “Need some help there?”

“Yes.”

He stalked toward the bed like a big sleek cat, climbing on with the same grace. He reached around her and let his fingers trail down the shallow V of her dress to the top of the zipper. “Is this your problem?”

“I can’t reach it.”

“How did you get dressed then?”

“I wasn’t hampered then.”

“By what?”

“What do you think?” she asked, wanting to sound annoyed and only succeeding in revealing the need inside her.

“Me?”

“Desire,” she clarified.

“Desire for me.”

“Yes,” she admitted, no real reason to pretend otherwise, but annoyed all the same at having to say it out loud.

“Good.” He lowered the zipper inch by inch. “I like this dress.”

“I’m never wearing it again.”

“Please do.”

“Why?”

“I have always enjoyed unwrapping my gifts. Just ask my grandparents.”

“I’m not a Christmas package.”

“No, you are something far more valuable.” He kissed the corner of her mouth and then brushed her lips with his lightly. “You are the woman who will share my life.”

“You’re awfully good at romance for a corporate shark.”

He wasn’t kidding about enjoying the process of unwrapping. Time moved by in increments measured by her rising passion as he took off first her dress, removing it to reveal her body one slow inch at a time. His desire-filled gaze burned her with sensual appreciation.

The silk foundations she wore under the dress came next, but he took even more time with those than the blue taffeta, kissing bits of her flesh as it was revealed, sensitizing her body in ways she’d no idea he could do.

When he was done, she was a naked, quivering mass of sexual need.

And he still had his briefs on.

She tugged at the waistband, her voice husky with passion when she managed to force the words past the tightness in her throat. “Take them off.”

“Not yet.”

“Why?” she demanded, patience in another universe.

“You are a virgin.”

“So?” He was going to change that, wasn’t he?

“So, you need preparation and I’m on a hair trigger where you are concerned.”

“You have to take your underwear off to make love to me,” she spelled out slowly, like she wasn’t sure he got it.

He bared his teeth in a smile that had no humor. “And before that happens I will make sure you are ready to receive me.”

“But—”

“You will have to trust me on this.” His eyes demanded her acquiescence.

She didn’t know if she could give it. “I want you!”

“And you will have me.”

Vik’s hand slipped between her legs right then, fingers delving in the moist heat no other man had ever touched, and she cried out. He touched her in ways she’d only ever dreamed of being touched, caressed her to her first shattering climax before she even realized what that desperate feeling inside her was leading to.

She’d touched herself, but it had never felt like this. She was still trembling with spent pleasure when a single long masculine finger slipped inside her. Something shifted in her heart at the intimate intrusion.

He was not inside her, not the way she’d always imagined, but they were connected on a level that corresponded to a place inside her soul.

He pressed upward and she winced with pain.

“Hurt?” he asked, his own tone strained.

“A little.”

“It will sting.”

“Why?”

“I am going to break your hymen with my finger. It will make the actual penetration of my sex easier on you.” The words were clinical, but his tone and the concern in his expression was not.

He’d thought this through and that touched her in the same place in her soul his intimate intrusion had.

He pressed a little harder.

A sharp shard of pain stabbed her. “It more than stings!”

“I am sorry.” He grimaced. “It will be worth it.”

She wasn’t so sure about that, but trusted him enough to give him the benefit of the doubt.

That trust was sorely tested a moment later when the pain increased to the point that she felt like he was invading her with a hot poker, not his finger. She gasped and tried to pull away, surprised when she succeeded in dislodging his hand.

He leaned back on his haunches, the telltale traces of blood on his finger a testament to his success.

Grateful that the pain was already morphing to a low-level throbbing rather than stabbing, she asked, “Now?”

“Not yet. There is more to do.”

The more included him stripping naked finally. In the bathroom, where he ran a very hot bath.