His hand slid down my leg and beneath my dress slit. I toed out of my heels and weaved my legs around his waist.
He growled, pressing his lips to mine, his hands hugging my ass. I tongued his lips apart, grinding my hips against him, and he eased me away.
“What?”
He grinned, sliding me down his hard body. My feet returned to the floor, and he hooked a finger beneath my chin. He tipped it up. “Brielle, look at me.”
I did, and how beautiful he was, features defined and angular. Lips bruised from my mouth and smeared red from our kiss. I wanted to kiss the fuck out of this man, taste him everywhere.
But for some reason he was keeping that from me. He peeled my hands off his chest, kissing the back of them.
“For once, don’t use this.” He touched a lengthy digit to my temple before pressing my hands back to his desk. He angled in. “I got it from here. Trust me to. Okay?”
“Okay.” I stayed put, watching as he worked his jacket off his big shoulders. He tossed it back on the couch, then proceeded to unbutton his shirt starting at the wrists.
And holy fuck.
Lean, sinewy muscles defined solid forearms dusted with dark hair. He wore a wristwatch, which he took off, depositing it in his pocket before removing his shirt.
Tanned skin exposed readily to my sight, his body golden and perfect. He folded his shirt in front of a flat stomach. Like that mattered.
I think he just wanted to tease me, nothing but those playful eyes as he smirked. He set the shirt to the desk in a fist before hooking my waist and picking me up with one arm.
My bottom touched his desk, and though I wanted to touch him, take control, I didn’t.
“This is driving you mad,” he mouthed over my lips, my entire body buzzing. He eased my legs apart. “Good.”
He fingered the zipper located at the back of my dress, his voice heated and gruff. He tugged, then worked my dress bodice down, bunching the material at my hips. I sat there in a strapless bra made out of lace, and Ramses groaned, gathering my waist in his hands.
“Your tits are fucking gorgeous.” He arched them toward his face, immediately peppering the swell with kisses. He tugged at the lace with his teeth but didn’t expose me.
Frustrated, I pressed his mouth between my breasts, his close-cropped hair rough beneath my palm. I spread my legs to hug his hips, but he yanked me away from him by my hair.
He arched my neck, studying me.
“I told you I got you,” he said, almost growling. I frustrated him, too. Good. He smirked. “I can make you wait longer. Do you want that?”
“No.”
He pulled my lips apart with his thumb. “Will you trust me, then?” He honed in. “To take care of you?”
I did.
“I do.”
His entire hand covered my neck, but not in a threatening way. It was more possessive, stating mine. He was staking a claim.
He was taking care of me.
He dropped to his knees, and I quivered. Even from the floor, this man was within clear access of my pussy. His desk wasn’t a short desk. He was freaking tall, so it had to be big to accommodate him.
“Give me my favorite thing,” he growled, forcing my legs apart. He got them as far as they could go, hooking my panties over. He used his digit, that ring he always wore playing at my sex. “Is it your favorite thing, too?”
Oh, it was definitely my favorite thing, and he was frickin’ good at it.
Chuckling, Ramses worked my panties off, using his ring again to tempt and tease my pulsating bud. I wondered if he’d fuck me with it again, but when he pressed a hand to my tummy, urging me to lay back, he simply buried himself between my legs.
He merely kissed me first, hot sensual kisses. He was so gentle with it, like he was kissing my mouth instead of down there.
I arched off his desk.
I stared at the ceiling while he made my toes curl, his fingers circling and preparing my entry while he tongued my lower lips apart.
He latched onto me once he had, gathering my breast in a single palm while he licked and sucked, and I cried out.
I elbowed up to see him, his head lost in the material of my dress. It was the most erotic sight I’d ever seen, my legs shaking to hook around him, but I worried he’d stop.
“Can I touch you?” I asked. Maybe if I did, he wouldn’t stop. This wasn’t me taking control. He took my hand, growling into my sex, and guided my fingers down there.
He made me touch myself while he tasted me, his smile forming against my heat.
“Touch yourself,” he urged, making me. He had me finger myself while he tongued my buzzing clit. “Feel how good you feel.”
I closed my eyes, so close to coming at this point it wasn’t even funny. Ramses was taking me to the edge, but at the brink, he rose.
Fingers behind my back, he flicked my bra off, exposing my chest. He picked me up without acknowledging that, my nipples diamond-hard while he returned my feet to the floor. With his height, it was like looking up at a mountain. The sun.
And once there, I didn’t want to leave.
Popping up on my toes, I tasted him, kissing him deep and full, and didn’t care about his game.
Yes, I had issues with control. I liked to make myself feel good, safe, because that was what control gave me.
That safety had been taken away too many times. With my ex-husband… other things, and I liked feeling like I had the power.
But Ramses definitely liked when I took control.
He liked fighting me for it, something I’d totally picked up on him during our time together. In fact, that give and take was probably one of the main reasons we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. We both enjoyed playing this game of power.
“Bri…”
I dropped to my knees in front of him, undoing his pants. I hadn’t seen his cock in way too long, and I was gifted the moment I had his pants and boxers worked down his thick thighs.
He angled long, erect and oh so thick. Seriously, the man hit the second section of his abs at full attention, and my mouth watered.
He growled. “Bri.”
I ignored him, driving my hands up his hips. He gritted my name again, and I gazed up at him.
A strong warning flashed in his amber eyes, making them narrow, hard. I was ignoring him, and he didn’t like that. I was testing him, and he might not even want me to do this for him. He’d been more than vocal about his hesitance when it came to his size. I mean, he was big, so I got that. He might have even scared a girl or two, and with how attentive Ramses was, he probably didn’t want to hurt me.
Well, what he failed to realize was he didn’t need to worry about me. Anything he had, I could take. He also did like it when I challenged him.
I flicked my tongue across the head.
“Shit,” he ground out, his fingers burying into my hair. His thigh muscles pulsed, his body stiff and tight. “You don’t know what you’re about to do. I could destroy your fucking throat.”
The tail end of that came out on a chuckled rasp, rough and aroused, but he gave in when I pushed the head past my lips.
Holy shit.
Inch by glorious inch, my swallow long and full as I opened my throat to let him inside. He touched the back, and I still had a ways to go, but I teased him out and in. Sometimes I got there. Sometimes I didn’t, but regardless, I didn’t stop.
“Shit. Goddamn. Shit.” Awe in his voice, like serious awe as he took my face between his hands. He rocked slow, in and out. He pushed back my hair. “Fucking hell, who are you right now?”