Rule's Addiction (16 page)

She bit her lip and closed her eyes as he continued thrusting into her, his strokes sending an incantation through her mind that made thinking almost impossible.

Over and over he thrust into her, until she began to feel it building in her bloodstream again. “That’s it, baby. Come with me.” His fingers stroked over her cheeks and her brows, and she concentrated on the gentleness of his words. “I’ve dreamed of you coming with me. Over me, under me, on my fingers, my tongue, but always, always with me.”

“Garrett—”

He gritted his teeth, his hands sinking into her hair. “Yeah?”

She lifted her hips as a wave of heat came over her. “I’m coming again,” she wailed.

He groaned, deep in the back of his throat and pushed against her, holding himself there, pushing, pushing, rocking against her until with a great groan of relief and satisfaction, she felt him exploding inside of her, his heat and power turning her brain to mush as she came with him.

Chapter Eight

The next day, Maria’s heart was pounding when she sat down at her desk. The residual fear she’d felt the night before from the elevator incident had all but slipped away under the spell of Garrett’s lovemaking, but her brain was barely functioning this morning.

He’d messed her up last night with his gentle display, no doubt about it. Had his personality turned on a dime because of her upset? Or had her distress disturbed him so much that he was able to show her a side of himself that she hadn’t even known existed?

She’d known him for a while now, and never once in all of that time had he even hinted that he could act the way he had last night. There had been that
one
scene when Treadway had caught her arm and Garrett had walked in on them. His facial features had softened on her then, when he’d been unclear if she’d been hurt, but that small incident in no way compared to the gentle, almost adoring way he’d treated her last night.

She got up to pour herself a cup of coffee, and noticed her fingers were trembling. Not just trembling, her entire hand was shaking. She set the cup down before she spilled it and went back to her desk and sat down before she fell down.

She settled into her chair and tugged down her skirt, not quite believing that she’d played up her looks for him again today. Her insides were so screwed up this morning that now she wasn’t even sure what her motivation was anymore. Was this now just a vanity thing for her? Did she have an inner vamp living in her psyche somewhere who knew that Garrett was in the building so she was damn sure going to look her best?
Why?
Was she dressing for her . . . lover . . . her man?
She wasn’t really trying to prove anything to him anymore, she wasn’t trying to best him, so what was her deal?

The fact that she didn’t know the answer to even that small question confused her even more. Before she could think too much more about it, the door opened and Garrett walked through. His eyes landed on her at once, running up and down her torso where she sat behind her desk.

Instead of his usual frown, he broke into a smile and continued to his office and stood at the threshold, watching her with a slight smile that was doing a number to her insides. Her gaze dropped to her computer screen in an attempt to disguise the light-headedness she was feeling at his unusual reaction.

“Maria?” he questioned, obviously refusing to let her attention fall away from him.

She glanced back up, her pulse upping a notch as she waited for him to speak.

“Could you come in here, please?’

Please?
Had he just employed the word ‘please’? Totally disconcerted by his gentle and polite tone, Maria stood to her feet, having a ridiculously hard time balancing on her stilettos this morning. Refusing to stumble, she breathed deep to calm herself, then put one foot in front of the other and walked into his office, hoping she managed not to appear too ungraceful.

As she moved into the room, he shut the door and leaned back against it. His beautiful, chocolate brown eyes ran up and down her body, stalling on her high-heels before running back up to her cleavage, and then finally, lifting to her eyes. “We still playing this game, babe?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Stupid, Maria. He’ll be able to see through that
.

A hint of gruff laughter spilled from his throat. “Really?” He took his suit jacket off and tossed it on an empty chair, and even though it was only eight o’clock in the morning, he began rolling up his shirtsleeves with terse, economical movements. He took a step towards her and she took a step back, towards his desk.

When he continued to walk past her, then turned and leaned against the front of his desk, she took a deep breath and waited, trying like hell to get her nerves under control.

His hands fell to his sides and landed on either side of his hips at the edge of the desk. His body language seemed to be saying he was relaxed, but the fact that his fingers were clenching the desk so hard that his knuckles lost color, was telling. Maria wasn’t altogether buying his relaxed stance. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said a bit more gruffly, in a tone she was more used to, although the modulation of his voice turning serious did nothing for her nerves that were still bouncing around.

“What’s that?” she asked, trying to sound as calm as he appeared. Well, at least he appeared calm on the outside; what he was feeling on the inside was anyone’s guess.

“You need to either hire a personal assistant, or choose someone here who can do the job . . . Beth is young but she seems capable and dependable, but it’s your choice.”

The demand sent a knot to her stomach. “Why do I need a personal assistant?”

He studied her with set features, giving her no indication of his thoughts. “Until recently, you’ve always been the assistant, right? Doesn’t it make sense that you’d have one now?”

“I suppose, but I don’t need one.” She liked being in charge; she wasn’t going to deny to herself that she received a thrill from being so completely indispensable.

His brows furrowed into a frown. “You can’t be here twenty-four/seven . . . the hotel needs someone who can run things in your absence.”

“The number of hours I’m gone are negligible, I’m almost always on-site. I don’t think it’s necessary, the employees on the whole are more than capable.”

“There needs to be a designated person in charge when you’re not here,” he came back swiftly.

“I never go anywhere—”

“Well, you’re going to start. Not taking your vacation days isn’t healthy. You need to be able to unwind.”

“I do unwind—I don’t want to be anywhere else. I’m not a big traveler, you know? And we have some of the prettiest beaches in the world, right here. I certainly don’t think we need to get in a big rush—”

Her argument came to a grinding halt when he reached out and snagged her hand, pulling her bodily between his thighs with a force she was well acquainted with. “What, exactly, do you think is going on here . . . between you and me?” he asked, his eyes dropping to her cleavage for the count of two heartbeats before lifting and impaling her with his gaze.

Heat traced down her spine and she licked her lips. “I don’t—”

“Right,” he cut her off again. “What do you think it means when we say we don’t touch anyone else? That was our agreement—we’re only sleeping with each other.”

A delicious shiver of heat slammed her, making speech impossible.

His hand fell to her hip and he began caressing her. “I can’t stay in Florida indefinitely. I think you’ve already figured that out.” His hand slid down and cupped her butt, down so low that she felt his fingers pressing between her thighs. “Don’t for a second think I’m going to simply abandon this thing with you—I’m not giving this up until I’m damn good and ready. And that time isn’t remotely close. So get me when I say that whether you enjoy traveling or not, you’re going to have to accept it as part of your immediate future. And for that to happen, you need someone who can run this place when you’re not here, understand?”

“I—” she swallowed, a wave of desire rushing over her as his fingers began kneading her as if it were his due.

His hands landed on her hips again as he came off the desk with a surge of power. In the blink of an eye, he lifted her, turned, and Maria suddenly found her butt on the desk as he pushed between her spread thighs. He lifted her skirt to her waist, and before she could get her brain cells to function, she found her panties discarded, lying in a heap on the carpet.

As she tried to breathe evenly, he made quick work of the enclosure of his pants, and within seconds, he was gripping her thighs, ready to push inside.

Ready to push inside,
without a condom
.

Her heart racing, she balanced on one elbow as she snaked her hand down to cover her mound, the only protection from him she could find in that second. “Garrett—”

He rasped a low warning in his throat.

She didn’t move her hand. “Protection,” she got out, the only word she could manage.

His eyes bored into hers like heated missiles. “Are you on birth control?”

She worked her bottom lip, suddenly aware she was getting in spectacularly deep. “Yes.”

His hand sank into her scalp, his gaze holding hers captured. “I’m clean.”

She took a deep breath. “Me, too.”

His eyes blazed as his mouth firmed into severe lines. “Move your hand,” he demanded between clenched teeth.

A river of trepidation bled down her spine as her hand quivered over her mound.
She was going to get hurt if she wasn’t careful.

He showed no signs of patience, his earlier display of gentleness nowhere to be seen. “Move your hand and understand—
it’s mine.”
His voice was firm, final, resolute.

She hesitated another second and his eyes hardened into icy slits of warning. Butterflies went wild in her stomach, and with her thighs trembling, she slowly moved her hand away. Finding his shirtsleeve, she clutched at his bicep for stability.

He took immediate advantage; he pushed her thighs farther apart and with his hands on her hips, pulled her to the very edge of the desk. He held his erection with one hand and maneuvered it to her opening, the fingers of his other hand sinking into her scalp and lifting her face to his.

She hung within the circle of his body, her breathing unsteady as his eyes lit with a primitive hunger. His nostrils flared as she felt the head of his cock push inside. His features were set, his brown eyes sharp as he hovered at the precipice. Her heart beat wildly and she watched him, enthralled by the smoldering depths of his eyes.

His gaze focused relentlessly on hers, he slammed inside with one hard, smooth thrust of his hips. Sensation rippled in waves as she exhaled a shallow pant.

His hand tightened on her scalp, color tinting his cheekbones. His jaw tensed as he held himself there, stretching her, as his lips twisted in an almost cruel line. “I get that you’re independent and strong-willed when it comes to your career—and I’m fine with that if it makes you happy. But trust me when I say that when it comes to everything else—” he pushed so hard against her that her breath caught before he continued, “—I’m in charge. You’ll learn to like it, but for now, it’s enough that you accept it.” He took another stroke and advised darkly, “Don’t argue with me for argument’s sake . . . don’t think you can twist me around your little finger and control me because I want your pussy more than I want to breathe . . .don’t give anyone the impression that you don’t fully belong to me, not if you don’t want to see me come unhinged.”

His voice came to a halt and shock at his words hit her full force. As he began to thrust within her, the impact of his strokes jarred her and at the same time, sent a wave of liquid heat to the point where they were connected. Her senses spun in a conflagration of twisted emotions. God, she loved this. Loved the way he felt inside of her, loved the scent of his skin, loved the forceful control of his dominant personality. But an arrow of very real concern was beating through her bloodstream, making her wonder if she was doing the right thing by being with him.
His words and actions were only proving what she already knew; he was a maniac.

But then the memory of his gentleness the previous night washed over her, spreading like a balmy mist over her, easing her distress. He had been
so
gentle. She knew he had that capacity inside of him. Could she bring that aspect of his personality out if she tried? With that thought, but without her conscious volition, her hands reached up and found his shoulders, her eyes holding his. “I don’t want you to come unhinged,” she soothed. “What do you want me to say?”

The lines of his face only hardened and his words came out just as aggressively as before, “I want you to agree that you belong to me, and
understand what that means.”

Maria took a sharp, uncontrolled breath. “Okay,” she complied, keeping her voice soft with effort.

“And that you’ll do what I say when it comes to all things sexual,” he hissed in a tone that wasn’t anywhere near gentle, the grip of his hands only growing tighter.

Maria forced herself to ignore the alarm bells and focus only on the amazing way he made her feel, determined to see if her idea would work. “Okay,” she agreed again, hoping against hope that she hadn’t just lost her mind.