“I really don’t know what to say,” Liese replied. Her initial response was to jump at the opportunity, considering she’d been thinking about that very thing for ages. But the potential repercussions gave her pause. “Do you often proposition women this way?”
“Do you often doctor pornographic images of your superiors?” he shot back.
Liese rose from her chair, her eyes narrowing as she processed his body language. “Are you trying to blackmail me into fucking you?”
“Do you want to fuck me?”
The question sent a wave of heat through her body. “Do you want to fuck me?” she retorted, because she’d be damned if she was going to admit it first. The time she’d spent dissecting his every glance and touch had driven her insane. The connection between them wasn’t in her head, and he should be the one to confirm it.
“Yes, very much, actually.”
“Oh.” Of all the things she’d expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them. She’d half anticipated some kind of stand-off, because Ryder could be a stubborn son of a bitch.
They stared at each other, Liese willing him to do something already. She allowed her lips to part, encouraging, enticing, inviting. She needed him to make the first move. The pinnacle of control, Liese wanted him to lose it—for her. For a fraction of a second she felt horrible, but he had the power, and she desperately wanted him to keep it.
In a rush of movement, Ryder’s hand shot up and slid into her hair, pulling her forward until her hips hit the desk. He groaned, the sound a deep rumble in his chest as his mouth collided with hers. It was like throwing a match into a pool of gasoline. Heat slammed through her veins, and pent up yearning rocketed through her.
“Oh, God.” Liese grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket. His free hand wrapped around her waist, the desk that separated them an annoyance.
“I tried so hard,” he said, his fingers digging into her side as he pulled her closer. “I really did.” It almost sounded like an apology.
Liese clambered onto the desk as Ryder helped lift her over the barrier. He held her steady, one hand on her waist and the other in her hair. Liese slapped her laptop closed and cleared a space to get to him. Stacks of notes fluttered to the floor, followed by the clatter of pens, pencils, and books.
With nothing to separate them, Ryder’s hand left her hair, both palms moving over her hips and down her thighs to the hem of her skirt. She grabbed his shoulders for balance, their lips still fused in a panty-incinerating kiss. Even as desperation made them clumsy, Ryder’s tongue moved fluidly against hers, stroking a passionate, sensuous rhythm.
He pulled away, then returned a moment later to nip at her lip, his breath coming fast. His eyes were alive with fire and want as he manipulated her body, rearranging her legs on either side of his.
“Tell me to stop.” It was akin to a demand, his words at odds with his actions. Ryder shoved her skirt up her thighs, palms smoothing over the newly exposed skin, his nose skimming her cheek. His hands drifted lightly along the silky fabric of her navy thigh-highs until he reached the lacy hem and his fingers faltered. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
Liese shook her head in defiance, eliciting a despondent groan from him. When his fingers grazed the bare skin of her thigh, his jaw tightened.
“How very naughty of you,” he slipped his pinkie under the garter and pulled, only to let it snap back against her thigh. Mouth covering hers, he swallowed her shocked protest. Ryder’s hands ran along the inside of her thighs, his fingertips grazing the edge of her panties. She felt the feather-light brush of his knuckle right where the ache was deadliest.
Liese whimpered, her body jerking with the contact, desperate for the feel of his hands on her without the inconvenient obstruction of clothing.
“Shh.” His thumb slipped beneath the elastic. “We wouldn’t want anyone to think you enjoy your meetings with me. What if people got the wrong idea? Then I might have to discipline you for your indiscretions.”
“We wouldn’t want that.” Liese bit back an uneasy laugh, uncertain whether to take him seriously. Something told her he meant it when he said he would discipline her, and she might very well enjoy it.
“Speak for yourself. I think I’d rather relish handing out a punishment where you’re concerned.” Ryder’s hand tightened in her hair as his lips traveled along her jaw, drawing out the sweetest of tortures. He pushed aside her panties, finger sweeping over the smooth skin.
Liese couldn’t help it; she moaned, parting her legs further.
Ryder stopped, both his fingers and mouth stilled. “What did I just tell you?” His teeth pressed softly against the juncture of her shoulder and neck, an erotic warning.
“Sorry, sir.” She draped her arms over his shoulders and fingered the hair at the nape of his neck—a weak attempt to draw his attention away from her inability to follow direction and keep quiet.
“I really shouldn’t do this.” His lips parted against her throat.
“Please.” Liese feared Ryder’s conscience would kick in, and he would remember just how much trouble being together like this could cause. She chose to bury that knowledge, along with her better judgment, when she trailed her hands down his chest to his belt.
“Tell me what you want,” he said.
Supplication merged with abject longing, and Ryder’s fingers twitched, a reminder of how close they were to a place she wanted them to go, but shouldn’t. Regardless, she didn’t want him to stop.
Hands shaking, she answered the question with actions: grasping his belt buckle, she unhooked the clasp.
His breath fanned over her cheek on a warm sigh. Ryder’s fingers moved lower. “You have no idea how difficult it’s been,” he whispered as he kissed his way over her cheek to the corner of her mouth. At the same time he circled, teased, and then suddenly pushed inside, his fingers curled, sensation radiating from the center of her body to consume her in a wave of desire.
Liese inhaled a high-pitched gasp, again heedless of Ryder’s warning to stay quiet. She couldn’t get enough of him, his body close to hers, his fingers moving inside her. He pushed her closer to a precipice she hadn’t been anywhere near in a very long time, at least not with another person.
She fumbled with the fly on his pants, wanting to touch him as he touched her. In her haste, the button popped off and ricocheted off the desk, bouncing onto the floor.