Adrianna's Undies (13 page)

“But?” he prodded.

“But even as difficult and confusing for me as it was giving up control to you the other night, I…think I can—sometimes.”

“I think you can too.”

“I just need to work at it, and I’ll just need you to be patient.”

He nodded.

“And I still might demand that you fuck me on occasion.”

He cast a warm smile as his eyes lit with mischief. “I can live with that. I can even
enjoy
that.”

“Even when you’re playing the master?”

He shrugged. “We’ll work it out.”

“So what are you saying?” Her heart still beat too fast.

“I want you in my life again, Adrianna. I want to try again. I’ve had a lot of success, in bed and out, but something’s always been missing, and it’s you. I wanted you then and I want you now.”

It was all Adrianna could do not to tremble. She hadn’t said much here—she hadn’t said she loved him back, hadn’t apologized for anything that had happened in the past. But inside, her emotions roiled. Inside, she knew her fears from yesterday were true. She
was
still in love with the big, power-hungry lug. Who…maybe wasn’t such a lug. Well, sometimes. But he was so good in
other
ways.

“Although you realize,” she began, “that now, more than ever, I’m not prepared to follow you to L.A.?”

He grinned. “Of course. But maybe I’m prepared to come back to Vegas.”

“How can you do that?”

“I actually work from home a lot anyway. I have a corporate jet at my disposal. And, unlike you, I’m not married to my company—I’m a marketable guy and if I decide life would be easier in Vegas, I’ll get a job in Vegas. It’ll be like the sex, Adri. We’ll work it out.”

Something compelled Adrianna then to get up and walk around the desk to him. By the time she got there, she understood what it was—the urge to kiss him some more.

He must have felt the same urge, since he pushed to his feet and took her in his arms. His kiss rushed through her, as tantalizing and intoxicating as she recalled. “Oh Tristan,” she heard herself say, “it feels so damn good just to kiss you.” Perhaps her first totally voluntary admission—and it seemed like a step in the right direction.

“It feels good to hold you, to touch you, baby,” he rasped near her ear, his hands closing over her ass and beginning to knead.

“You don’t mind…” she heard herself breathe raggedly as he rained kisses across her neck, “what a, um, wild woman I’ve become? I told you, Tris, I’ve had a
lot
of sex.”

“Mind? Are you serious? I’m as in lust with you as I am in love with you. And I want you, Adri, right here, right now.” He lifted her to the desk, her skirt riding up, and stood between her parted thighs. “And besides,” he added, “I’m willing to bet none of it has ever been quite as good as it is with me.”

That she couldn’t deny—there was something special, magical and overwhelming about having Tristan inside her—but she only smiled and said, “Well, you
do
have a huge cock.”

Moving in to rub his erection against her crotch through their clothes—
mmm, so good
—he grinned. “Which you like a lot.”

“Which I love,” she corrected him.

“Like you love
me
?” he asked.

She lowered her eyes.
Be honest
. “Yes,” she whispered.

After a few more deep, scintillating kisses, Tristan used his arm to shove a pencil holder and some paperwork out of the way and then leaned her farther back on the desk. Pushing her skirt to her hips, he drew down her panties. “Wearing white lace under that red suit, Adri?” he said, studying the undies. They possessed lace flower inlays and came from her Romance Blooms collection. “You’re just proving my point,” he went on. “Underneath, you’re softer than you like to admit.”

A moment later, he thrust inside her, deep, and they both moaned at the impact and Adrianna didn’t care if anyone outside the door heard them. She’d had sex in her office before. Although never sex like this. Sex that mattered. Sex that…meant something.

She looked into his eyes as he fucked her and felt it deep, all of it, the emotion
and
his perfect cock.

She sat up and put her arms around his neck and kissed him as they moved together. She got lost in the fever of it as he yanked open her blouse to massage her breasts through her lacy bra and she rubbed against him, undulating slow and hot, everything inside her moving rapidly toward orgasm—until, oh God, it broke over her hard.

“Oh, fuck yes,” she whispered, stunned by the intensity of it as she clung to Tristan and rode it out, soaking up every ounce of pleasure that vibrated through her.

“So good,” she whispered. “So good.” Better, even, than any time she’d come the other night. Because this time she knew he loved her. And she loved him. And she’d forgotten, after all these years, how that made the best sex even better, the hottest fucking even hotter.

Tristan whispered to her then, laying her back across the desk, reaching down to lower the cups of her bra and caress and tease her nipples. He told her how wet she was, how warm. He told her how incredible her tits were and that he wanted to suck them for hours. He told her fucking her the other night and again now was the best sex he’d had in fifteen years. He pumped hard and deep into her accepting cunt and she met every drive and forgot all about control and focused on nothing but how good it all felt, the freedom, the wildness, the lust…the love.

When he came with a roar, it echoed all through her, and like before, she quit caring about her own pleasure long enough to be glad she’d pleased him too. She wanted to bring him all the pleasure he could handle.

Still bent over her on the desk, still inside her, he nibbled one of the breasts he’d exposed during their fuck, then cast a guilty grin. “Looks like I’m on top again.”

She ran her fingers back through his hair. “Don’t worry—we’re gonna start taking turns. Next time, prepare to meet Mistress Adrianna.”

A low groan left him. “Does she have whips and chains?”

She nodded. “Big scary ones.”

“I can’t wait.”

Lacey Alexander’s books have been called deliciously decadent, unbelievably erotic, exceptionally arousing, blazingly sexual, and downright sinful. In each book, Lacey strives to take her readers on the ultimate erotic adventure and hopes her stories will encourage women to embrace their sexual fantasies.

Lacey resides in the Midwest with her husband, and when not penning romantic erotica, she enjoys history and traveling, often incorporating favorite travel destinations into her work.

Lacey welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at
www.ellorascave.com
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