Young investigative reporter, Cait Shaw, is not happy about her new assignment; investigating what she deems to be a “seedy” part of Chicago’s more questionable businesses. But her editor seems to have a personal vendetta against the elusive Mr. Justice, leaving Cait with little say in the matter.
Cait is especially shocked and conflicted by her attraction to the irresistible charms of Liam Justice. Liam is like no man she has ever known and she is totally captivated and unprepared for the sinfully erotic, passionate affair they enter into.
As her world is turned upside down, Cait must cope with her growing affection for Liam and his shadowed past.
I’ve never been kissed
like this. Consumed. With abandon, I give myself over to his sweet possession.
“Mmmm,” I hum. His mouth
tastes like cinnamon, warm and spicy as my tongue tangles with his. Suddenly not able to get enough of him, my hands
slide from his shoulders to the back of his neck, up into his thick hair. He releases his hold on my hair and moves his hand
from between my legs. He wraps me in his arms as he pulls me close, one hand
splayed across my bottom, holding me tightly against his rock hard erection.
By the time, he lets me come up for air we’re both breathing hard and gasping. He presses
his mouth against my neck, nipping and
sucking at my sensitive skin. One hand molds around a breast, squeezing firmly,
the other works its way up under the skirt of my dress, sliding over my skin to
the junction of my thighs.
I cry out, startled at the
spark that seems to flow from his fingers straight to my clit.
He emits a dark, self-satisfied
chuckle. His fingers move lightly over me, exploring with the barest of touch,
and I tremble against him.
“Move your legs apart,” he
orders as his knee nudges between them. This opens me more fully to him, and I
hold onto his shoulders for support. His fingers continue to stroke me lightly
as he watches me.
“I like this,” he says as
his fingers move over me. “Neat and trimmed.”
I feel my cheeks heat.
When his fingers delve
between my lips, my breathing escalates. I feel myself dampen as he slides a
finger along my slit. He strokes back and forth, swirling his finger at my
entrance, and then wraps his arm around my waist, inserting his finger slowly
into me. I moan at the friction against my sensitive tissues.
“You’re swollen,” he moans against my throat. “I like how you’re swollen
from me finger fucking you hard earlier.”
I blush at his crude words and immediately cry out when he thrusts a second
finger deep inside of me.
“Fuck!
I can’t get over how tight you are.” My
core muscles tighten reflexively around his fingers as he moves them widely
around inside of me. “I can’t wait to fuck you,” he growls, pinching my nipple
again.
I want
him to take me. I need him to take me, now. I lay my forehead against his chest
as everything inside of me starts to
tighten. My breathing becomes ragged, and when he pulls his fingers from me, I
cry out in despair.
“No!
Please, Liam,” I beg, clutching at his shoulders.
“Hold
on.” He walks me backward until my
backside meets the large desk.
He’s
going to fuck me on the desk! A part of me quivers in anticipation. What girl
hasn’t fantasized about being taken hard, bent over a desk?
“Look
at me, Caitlyn.”
In my
dazed state, I find his bright blue eyes particularly mesmerizing. I
want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I smooth my hands down across his
well-defined pecs, over the medallion he wears, sliding lower to his flat
stomach. I can feel the ripple of muscles
beneath his shirt in response to my touch.
He
quickly grasps my hands pulling them to the small of my back, locking one large
hand around both wrists. He brings his free hand up to cup my face.
“Do you
want me to fuck you, Caitlyn?”
Is he blind? I give an impassioned moan, turning my face into
his palm.
“Yes!”
I whisper.
“Look
at me,” he demands firmly.
I meet
his eyes.
“You need to be sure, darlin’.” He holds my gaze steadily. “I don’t
make nice when I fuck.”
Holy
shit. I swallow
convulsively at his erotic words. I nod my head in the affirmative.
“I need a verbal response,
sugar.” His eyes move down to my lips.
“Yes, please,” I whisper.
He raises an eyebrow as he
continues to look at my mouth.
“I want you to… fuck me... but not nice,” I say breathlessly and can’t stop my blush.
There’s a salacious gleam
in his eyes as he meets my gaze. “Well,
in that case—”
Rivi Jacks has a lifelong love of books, and she is a true believer in holding onto a good love story. One reason her attic and barn are full of the books she has collected through the years.
She lives in the Missouri Ozarks on a farm with her husband, and when not writing or reading, she likes to take long walks down country roads, cook, fish, and spend time with family and friends.
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