Taryn Taylor - Wicked Pleasure

With a quick squeeze, she unhanded him and began dispatching the buttons on his vest with quick efficiency. “Also, for the record,” she informed him, before unknotting his tie, “I’m more of an arsonist than a nurse.” She reached up and pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders. “So you’re probably going to want to be careful.”

Careful was the last thing he felt like being with her. He wanted whatever this was, pulsing between them, begging to be let loose.

He swallowed thickly as she slipped his jacket down his arms. “I’m going to need—”

“Your wallet?” she asked, holding it up as the expensive Italian wool blazer hit the ground.

Liam popped the button at his collar. “Impressive sleight of hand.”

She pulled the condom he kept inside free and tossed his leather billfold onto his jacket.

“You’re easy to please.” She tracked his progress as he worked his way down the placket of his shirt, baring his chest to her gaze. “I haven’t even gotten started with my hands yet.”

She pushed him back against the window and set to work on his belt, the button on his pants. The metal hum of his zipper filled the room, filled his head. His breath came fast, and he swore as her hand closed around his erection, freeing him from his boxer-briefs. He wanted her so fucking badly he could barely stand it.

She licked her lips as she circled her thumb, spreading pre-come over his tip. Liam closed his eyes, letting the pleasure wash over him.

Fuck yes .

The sound of the condom wrapper ratcheted up his need.

He opened his eyes so he could watch, so his brain could sync the pleasure of her touch with the visual of her hand on his cock.

“Let’s move this to the bed.” His voice was strained as she slid her hand back up his length.

“Why would we do that?”

“Because I want to taste you. Pleasure you with my mouth until you beg me to bury myself inside you so you can come that way, too.”

Her hand stopped its methodical stroking, and he used the slight reprieve to take a full breath.

“Look, I’m sure you’re a generous and talented lover and the champagne and lingerie crowd goes gaga for your smooth promises and high-thread-count sheets, but in case it wasn’t clear, I’m not here for declarations and foreplay. I don’t want to make love. I want you to fuck me.”

Jesus Christ. If his cock hadn’t already been so hard it hurt, that would have gotten him the rest of the way. “Are you—”

“I’m sure.” She grabbed the sides of his open shirt and leaned up to cut him off with her mouth, not kissing him, but catching his bottom lip between her teeth and giving it a sharp tug. When she let go, he soothed the slight sting with his tongue. “You talk too much, you know that?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever had any complaints.” Liam let himself touch her, resting his hands on the warm curve of her hips. His fingers flexed, as though seeking the warmth of her skin beneath the fabric in their way. If he didn’t get her naked and wrapped around him soon, he might lose his mind. “But now you’ve forced me to defend my honor.”

AJ’S EYES WIDENED as he tightened his grip and spun her to face the window.

Something hot and sharp ran through her veins at the show of dominance.

“Put your hands on the glass.”

Yes .

Her breath left her on a shudder, fogging the window for a split second before it cleared.

This was exactly what she wanted. No hearts and flowers. Just fucking. Down and dirty. Simple. A mistake, maybe, but she was past caring. Her blood always ran hot during a job.

She placed her palms flat against the cool, smooth surface as instructed.

Liam stepped close, until the front of him was plastered against the back of her. He tugged her hips back, as though she wasn’t already aware of the hot, hard length of him pressing against her ass.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice was a low rasp against her ear.

She wasn’t sure how she’d given herself away, how he knew this particular fantasy was one of her go-tos. All she knew was that her skin sparked with electric anticipation as she stared down at the unwitting partygoers.

“Does it turn you on to know that one of them could look up and see you pressed against the window, on display?”

The sound that escaped her throat was pure sex.

There was something about the risk of getting caught, of being seen, that made her body burn. It was the perfect combination—the pulse-pounding danger of hacking mixed up with the physical release of sex—a rush that AJ couldn’t help but chase.

“Spread your legs.”

She followed the orders, widening her stance slightly. Liam was tall, but with her heels, their bodies lined up almost perfectly. His breath caught, as though in agreement with her.

“Can you feel how badly I want you?”

AJ swallowed, unable to resist pressing her hips back against him as she nodded.

God. She was so wet, and he hadn’t even touched her yet. She hated to admit it, but Liam just might have the skills to back up his reputation.

He flattened his hands against her hips, tracing the curve down her thighs until the tips of his fingers reached the hem of her dress. It was a relatively short trip, all things considered, and AJ shivered as he fisted his hands in the material and his knuckles brushed the bare skin of her legs.

“Do you want me to pull your dress up and fuck you for them?”

It was like the tech god could read her programming, no training manual required. And so far, he was doing everything right.

“Yes.” She whimpered with pleasure as he dragged the material up her thighs inch by inch, until it was bunched around her waist.

He slid his big hand between her legs, tugging her panties out of the way. AJ almost lost it at the first stroke of his thumb on her clit, hips bucking as he caressed and teased but never granted her the relief she needed more than her next breath.

“You’re soaking wet for me.”

His voice had her on the edge, and suddenly it wasn’t the party outside she was looking at, but the reflection of their bodies in the glass. His hand between her legs, the bounce of her breasts as she pressed back against him.

He did something magical with his fingers that sent sparks shooting up her spine, and she gasped, her body arching with pleasure as the world went dark. It took her a moment to realize why and another to wrest her eyelids open.

“I want you so fucking badly.” Not just dirty talk now, as their eyes met in the window. A confession.

A truth she felt even through the reflection, because she wanted him, too.

Her head fell back against his shoulder. Liam pounced on her exposed throat, and the searing heat of his tongue on her skin amped up her pleasure.

He groaned as he slid his cock between her thighs, and she rocked back, desperate for contact, spiraling closer and closer toward climax, and he wasn’t even inside her yet.

“Do it.” It was an order. A plea.

“You’re not the one in control here.”

Judging by the harsh rasp of his breathing and the instinctive rocking of his hips, neither was he, so she let it slide.

And then, thank the sex gods, he was finally inside her, and she moaned as her body stretched to accommodate his impressive erection.

Good boy .

“Fuck.” His curse said it all.

Everything in her world narrowed to this—the scent of man and sex and want, and God, did she want.

Then Liam started to move for real.

And it was spectacular.

Combustion was too tame a description for what was happening between them. He wasn’t kidding about getting burned. Their bodies fit together like they were two pieces of a whole, built to fuck. And Liam was definitely doing his part.