Perfect Proposal (2 page)

With a shake of her head in mock dismay, she locked her hands
around his neck and hooked her legs around his hips. “You’re
incorrigible, you
payaso
.”

“
Even a clown would get hard watching you parade around in
nothin’ but a towel, Rosebud.” As proof of the truth of his
statement, he pressed his erect cloth-covered shaft against her
mound.

She
should have anticipated this when he’d ogled her cleavage instead
of listening to her. Oh heck, she’d seen the look he’d given her
when she’d headed into the shower, and quite frankly she’d been
surprised he hadn’t joined her. The fact that they’d already made
love before breakfast never slowed Sam Watson down.

“
Have I told you I love you this morning?” he asked.

He had.
Numerous times, in English, Spanish, French and what she thought
might be German—once he’d discovered she got turned on by foreign
languages, he’d exploited her weakness without a qualm.

“
I love you too.” She nipped at his earlobe and sighed, just as
disappointed as she was about to make him. She lowered her legs to
the floor, leaving her arms around his neck, forcing him to bend
over. “I have to get dressed.”

“
No, you need to stay naked.” His gaze dropped again, lingered.
A smile played at the corners of his lips. “Drop the towel and get
on your knees,
Princesa
.”

He didn’t really want her to go down on him
now
, did he? Then again,
they’d set the rules right at the outset of their relationship that
he would never call her
Princesa
outside of a scene. His use of it now meant he was
serious.

“
We don’t have time, Sam.” She eyed him suspiciously. “I told
Mama I’d be there to help her. I don’t want to be late—you realize
she’ll know what we’ve been doing.”

“
We’ve got time.” He tugged on the hem of the towel. “Drop the
towel,
Princesa
.
Now.”

A second
use of her nickname. While she enjoyed pushing his boundaries, this
wasn’t the time. Without another thought, she released the towel
and lowered herself to her knees in front of him. Her nipples
beaded tight in the cool air after the warmth of the shower, but
the rest of her body heated.

What was
it about her that loved when he let his dominant side come out to
play? She carried a gun and as one of Hauberk’s lead operatives,
other people obeyed her orders. So why were her breasts aching for
his touch, her pussy rippling in anticipation of dropping to her
knees in front of him?

He
unzipped his pants and freed his cock, long and hard, from his
trousers. She reached up to touch him, but he stopped her. “Lace
your fingers together behind your back.”

She
leaned forward and let the fat head of his cock slip over her lips,
her tongue darting out to lick the salty bead at the slit. He
groaned and fisted his hands in her hair, holding her in place to
thrust his shaft past her lips and over her tongue.

Since
she couldn’t move, or touch him with her hands, she sucked hard on
his head, her tongue lashing the sensitive spot at its rim. His
grunts rumbled through the room as she swallowed him until her nose
brushed the dark wool of his suit and the head of his cock bumped
the back of her throat. Letting her teeth scrape his length, she
pulled back. Alternating the suction, she repeated the process,
loving the bite of pain from his hold on her hair.

His hips
flexed, pumping faster, his eyes unfocused and his face screwed up
tight as if he were in pain, a sign he was close to losing control.
Was there anything better than knowing she had such power over
him?

With a
snarl, Sam loosened his grip and pulled from her mouth. “Turn
around. Brace your arms on the desk.”

Damn,
she’d wanted to watch him when he came. She did as he ordered and
parted her legs to give him easier access. Thank heavens for the
mirror over the desk; she could still watch him.

His
Savile Row suit scratched her bare behind, reminding her he was
still dressed while she was completely naked. The white of his
crisply starched shirt accentuated the perpetual tan of his
Hawaiian heritage. At her urging, he’d let his hair grow longer.
Soon it would be a shock of thick waves she had to pay a fortune to
her stylist to achieve.

He
smiled back at her, traced the Blue Morpho butterfly tattoo at the
base of her spine. “You think I don’t realize you like to watch
too?”

She
couldn’t stop her snort of derision, despite appreciating that he’d
indulged her voyeuristic side. “Yeah, I love looking at myself when
my hair looks like Medusa’s.”

There
was no mistaking the love in his eyes, but his lips firmed and he
shook his head. “I love the untamed look.”

An
I’m gonna ride you hard
promise strong in his eyes, Sam wrapped a strand
of her hair around one finger and tugged hard enough to create the
little zip of pain she loved. “Stop arguing with me. You’re
beautiful, and that’s the end of it.”

Her
pussy got even wetter when he unwound her hair from his finger and
caressed her ass. His gaze captured hers in the mirror when he
slipped one hand between her parted thighs. Satisfaction flared in
his expression.

“
Yeah, you’re already drippin’ wet. I’m not the only one who
gets off when you’re sucking on my cock, am I?”

Two
fingers thrust into her pussy while another taunted her clit. A
shudder rolled through her, and she writhed her hips to increase
the pressure. With a frown, Sam delivered a stinging slap on first
one butt cheek then the other with his free hand. “Stay
still.”

Oh crap,
the sting changed to warmth that made her pussy pulse
harder.

Without
warning, his hands left her. The bed creaked when he sat, reached
into the bedside table and withdrew a condom.

“
I could help you.” Remembering the last time she’d helped him,
she couldn’t stop her smile. He’d taken her with a ferocity that
had left her aching two days later. Hmm, maybe if she wanted to get
out of here faster… No, there were some things worth savoring.
Heaven knew Sam loved to savor.

“
Nope, I’ve got it.” Seconds later, he met her gaze in the
mirror once more. His shirt was still buttoned up, his silk tie in
place, but his pants were now on the floor beside her towel. He
held out his hand; the second her fingers touched his, he pulled
her between his thighs. “Climb up on me, but stay facing the
mirror.”

Following his directions, she straddled his legs and leaned
her back against his chest. His arm banded around her waist,
holding her in place, one large hand palming her breast. He lowered
her onto his shaft in one thrust.

“
Don’t close your eyes,” he whispered, his voice dark and edgy.
“Keep looking in the mirror.”

It
wasn’t the warmth of his breath that sent shivers down to her toes
and back up again. The image of them, her hair wild and tousled,
his curls dark and neat, the tanned skin of his wrist against the
white of hers, his large palm cupping her breast, was one of the
sexiest sights she’d witnessed. But none of it matched his
expression of sheer carnality.

“
I love watching you come.” He fondled her nipples between his
thumb and forefingers. Heat zipped from his fingers to her pussy.
“I love knowing you come only for me.”

As she
watched, his large hand slid over the soft skin of her belly to the
apex of her thighs. His fingers parted her glistening folds,
allowing a full view of his cock buried deep within her. The sight
nearly caused her to orgasm. He found the hard nub of her clitoris
and circled it slowly, teasing her until the scent of her
arousal—and his—filled the air.

“
Now ride me. Hard and fast.”

With pleasure.
Flattening her palms
on his thighs, she lifted herself, loving how his shaft caressed
her. When she’d lifted as far as she dared, she rotated her hips to
tease him then reversed course, squeezing her pussy around his cock
until they both groaned.

“
Enough of this teasing,” he growled. His arm tightened in an
iron grip as he pumped deep inside her, his fingers flicking in
rhythm against her clitoris, setting a flame that raced through the
rest of her body.

Before
she could control it, her climax consumed her, drowning her. She
lifted her eyes to see him watching in the mirror, pride and lust
clear in his eyes.

“
My turn.” Somehow he managed to stand, still holding onto her
with his cock buried deep inside. He laid her face-down on the
desk, the wood cool on her breasts, and lifted her hips slightly.
“Hang on. I’m not going to be gentle.”

He was
true to his word, and she loved every thrust and plunge deep within
her. His balls slapped against her clit with every press forward
until her pussy quivered around his hard shaft. His fingers dug
into her thighs, canting her hips at a slightly different
angle.

The desk bumped against the wall in time with his thrusts.
Some distant part of her brain wondered if there was anyone in the
adjoining room listening.
Who
cares?
she thought muzzily. They were in
one of the swankiest rooms in New York City and she was with the
man she loved. A man who loved her. Who cared who heard
them?

Any
concern over the noise they made disappeared when his hand snaked
between them once more and flicked the swollen bundle of nerves,
driving her past the edge of control. A half dozen thrusts later,
Sam stiffened behind her, his cock jerking against her sensitized
flesh, stimulating yet another orgasm of her own.

After a
groan, he kissed her shoulder and pulled his softening cock from
her body. “That should hold me off until tonight.”

Rosie
straightened, wobbling slightly, and sank back on the bed. “Where
do you get the energy? Most men wouldn’t be able to get it up again
for a week after this morning’s exercises.”

“
Exercises?” His dark brows drew together. “I don’t consider
making love to you an exercise.” He braced his arms on either side
of her head and captured her mouth, tasting of coffee and Sam.
“It’s a privilege to make you come, Rosie.”

“
You say the nicest things.” She flattened her hand against his
chest with more than a little regret. “But I have to get dressed.
Or you’ll be the one to apologize to my mother for making us
late.”

“
Your mother likes me too much to get mad.” He fondled her
breast as if considering continuing their play, then let his hand
fall. “Go get dressed, but I’ll still claim a rain check for when
we get back tonight.”

To Sam,
a rain check meant an entire weekend at his command, which usually
meant they never left the bedroom, whether at home or at his
private club. Ha! He’d hear no argument from her.

B
y the time their taxi stopped in
front of her parents’ home in the Bronx, every inch of her skin
tingled as if he’d touched everywhere with his fingers instead of
his gaze. The places he
had
touched her—the small of her back when escorting
her from their room to the lobby, the sensitive skin by her ear
when he’d toyed with her hair earlier, the inside of her wrist,
where even now his thumb stroked while he held her hand—ramped up
the need until her insides threatened to spontaneously
combust.

The
moment the limo stopped in front of her parents’ house, the front
door opened. Teresa Ramos hurried down the porch steps to meet
them, the fat snowflakes liberally coating her dark
hair.

Without
waiting for the driver to round the car, Rosie flung open the door,
dashed up the sidewalk and hugged her mother. “Mama, you should put
a coat on. It’s chilly. You’ll catch a cold.”

“
Oh, I’m fine. And how many times did I have to tell you to put
a coat on when you were little, huh?” Her mother gave her one last
hug. “You look happy,
carina
. But tired, I
think.”

“
I am happy, Mama.”

At that pronouncement, her mother beamed and turned to Sam.
“How are you,
Oso
?
Thank you for bringing my Rosie home for my birthday.”