Эротические рассказы

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act of ownership that made her stomach dip. Sent her fingers clutching the hard muscles of his shoulders for support.

      “I’m not averse to a woman tying me up,” he continued, easing his grip on her to fill her with a long finger instead. “But then you wouldn’t get this. And I want you as hot and wild for me as you were in my fantasy.”

      Frankie closed her eyes at the seductive heat in his voice. It raked over her nerve endings and sent warmth flooding to the very place he was caressing. She couldn’t help her response, couldn’t help moving her hips against his hand every time he filled her. It was incredible.

      He added another of those amazing fingers, palming the soft flesh of her buttocks with his free hand to hold her where he wanted her. A low moan escaped her lips.

      “That’s right,” he murmured, spreading the fingers he had inside of her to maximize her pleasure. To ready her. “That’s exactly how you were.”

      He withdrew from her. Left her hot and aching again, but only to shift both his hands to the backs of her thighs and lift her on top of him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her thighs making contact with his hot, aroused body. Too many contact points fried her nerve endings. The unleashed power of him beneath her made her pulse speed up into an almost impossible awareness of his masculinity. But most intense of all were his eyes. Dark and full of want, she felt him all the way inside of her.

      “You do something to me,” he rasped. “I can’t explain it.”

      She couldn’t, either, but she felt it, too. She watched the desperation flicker back to life in his eyes as he fought it, fought the physical and mental connection they shared. The lack of control...it was a last-ditch effort to hold on to the darkness and she wouldn’t allow it. She brought her mouth down on his in a kiss so intimate, so soul-consuming, she was sure she would never forget it.

      His hands bit into her bottom as he lifted her up and brought her down on the hard column of flesh that telegraphed his desire for her.

      “Tell me,” he muttered against her lips, “if I’m hurting you...”

      But he had brought her to the edge, to a greedy, grasping place where he was all she wanted. Inside of her. Exactly like his fantasy. Her body was malleable, soft as she accepted the tip of him. He was big; he stole her breath as he brought her down on him with firm hands. It was a tight, exquisite fit, one she almost couldn’t stand. But when he had filled her completely, she wanted more.

      “Then what did I do? In your fantasy...?” she whispered.

      He took the weight of her hips in his hands, his eyes locked on hers. “You rode me like an angel.”

      Oh. She went down then, lost in the way he made her feel. She circled her hips around him. Took him deep inside, then retreated. His eyes caught fire. His hands helped her move. Then there was nothing between them except the sensation of being impaled on him. She took him again and again until her body was all soft heat, grasping him, needing him.

      It was unmistakable, the sweet intensity that built inside of her then as his size, his girth touched a spot that promised heaven. She gripped his shoulders harder. He slid a hand between them and rubbed his thumb against her center. Back and forth in a path of fire that had her limbs clenching around him. “Give yourself to me,” he commanded roughly.

      She closed her eyes. Let his thumb take her over the edge. Her back arched, white lights exploded in her head as an orgasm racked through her. Her gasp as it tore into the night was raw and pleasure-soaked. Animalistic.

      It was hot and amazing and never-ending. When she finally came down. Harrison was watching her, a deadly heat in his eyes. Her lashes lowered. “Don’t,” he commanded, his thumb claiming the curve of her lip. “You were spectacular.”

      She opened her eyes. Allowed him to part her mouth with his thumb, her breath coming hot and hard against his skin. She could taste herself on him. Taste what he’d done to her. It was too much. Overload.

      He rolled onto his back and took her with him. He was buried deep inside of her, pulsing and rock-hard. Unsatisified. His gaze morphed into the darkest, deepest granite as it ate her up. He wanted her to blow his mind. To obliterate his thoughts.

      She leaned forward, pressed her palms to his chest and rotated her hips in a slow, grinding circle. His hands tightened around the flesh of her bottom. Faster, harder, he urged her down on him until his eyes were glazed and she knew he had lost it completely. But she drew it out, knew he wanted her to. He drove up into her with awe-inspiring stamina, again and again, his erection sending sparks of aftershocks through her. Slowly, amazingly, she felt her pleasure build again, hovering over the edge of another sweet surge of heaven. This was why he’d made it last. Because he could give her this.

      He read the tautness of her body, his face blanking as he took her hard and fast, fully in control now. “Again.”

      She gave herself into the deep, piercing release, lost to him as he came with a hoarse shout, his hips bucking against her. Aftershocks jerked his powerful body. They racked through her as she dropped her head to his chest and tasted the salt of his skin. Nothing had ever felt so right. So perfect.

      And yet it was so wrong. The cool night air sent reality flickering across her sweat-dampened skin. He was her boss. At least her temporary boss. And she’d just had scorching, wild sex with him.

      Harrison rolled her beneath him, his big body holding her captive. His gaze found hers. Narrowed. “Stop thinking.”

      “I can’t think,” she muttered. “My brain is mush.”

      “Good.” He left the bed, disposed of the condom and came back to her, hooking a finger under the front closure of her lacy black bra. “How did this stay on?”

      Her cheeks flamed. Because they’d been in such a hurry?

      He lowered himself back onto the bed beside her. Her cheeks heated as she absorbed his magnificence. It was a bit overwhelming. Dark amusement gleamed in his eyes as he captured one of her hands, pressed his thumb to her palm and worked the tension from it.

      “It bothered you to say that to Leonid tonight...”

      She closed her eyes as the magical pressure of his fingers made her tingle right down to her toes. “Not because I don’t think you’re a good man. You are. It’s what happens to Leonid’s legacy that I have an issue with. You tearing his company apart like that... My family has owned Masserias for thirty years. If someone bought them out and changed everything I’d be brokenhearted.”

      He pressed his thumb into the joint between her thumb and forefinger. Frankie almost moaned out loud. So why didn’t you go into the family business if you love it so much?”

      “My parents wanted me to. I wanted to forge my own path. I’ve wanted to work as a PA for as long as I can remember. I always thought it was so glamorous, but challenging at the same time.”

      “Glamorous? With a tyrant like me?”

      She opened her eyes. “You are a different case.”

      His gaze darkened with intent. “Okay,” she admitted, “I love working with you when you’re not in one of your moods. You have an amazing brain.”

      He grabbed her other hand and started working on it. “Only my brain?”

      “And the rest of you...” she conceded. “I appreciated all of you from the beginning, much to my dismay. That is so utterly unlike me.”

      “You had a thing for my brother...”

      She gave her head a shake. “Why do you keep saying that? Coburn is attractive and charming and I like working for him, but I’ve never had a thing for him.”

      “You idol-worship him.”

      His tone was decisive. She put a hand on his chest and levered herself up to look at him. “My lord, you Grants have


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