Imperfectly (Dante’s Nine MC #2)(23)
Author: Colleen Masters

“I…You…” I stammer.

“Speechless?” Leo asks, closing the door tightly behind him. My fingers tighten on the edge of the desk as he flips the lock. “With that mouth of yours, I’ll take that as quite the accomplishment.”

“I’m not here for this job at all, then, am I?” I ask, my breath caught in my throat, “I’m here because you want me to be here. You want me to be your whore.”

“Look at you, coming to conclusions and shit. You are smart,” Leo growls, closing the space between us in two long strides.

I balance on the edge of the desk, staring up at the gorgeous, ravenous man who looms over me. I feel my entire world shift around this revelation. Here I thought I was completely in control of this situation. But it turns out, Leo is the one driving full speed ahead. I’m disoriented, knocked off my even keel. I’ve never been good at giving up control to someone else, especially a man. How is it, then, that the thought is so appealing now? Why does that fact that Leo pulled one over on me only make me want him more?

“What does this make me, your mail order fuck?” I breathe. Almost of their own accord, my knees part just an inch. My legs tremble relentlessly. My sex is throbbing with anticipation and want. I’ve never been turned on so much by the mere presence of a man. Or by anything a man’s ever done to me, for that matter.

“Fucking right,” he grins, laying his strong, rough hands on my knees. My eyes flutter closed at this smallest of touches, the feel of his caress burning through my skinny jeans. How many times have I fantasized about what it would feel like to be touched by him? Touched myself, dreaming that it was him instead? I blush, just thinking about it. Thank god he doesn’t notice.

“And now that I’m here,” I ask, need pulsing hotly in my core, radiating out to every inch of my quaking body, “Whatever are you going to do with me?”

He grins as I spread my legs wide, leveling my gaze at him gamely. I’m ready for him, for whatever he throws my way. I’m no wilting flower myself. I’ve brought big guys to their knees before, after all. Leo may be a force to be reckoned with, but I’m plenty forceful, too. He steps between my parted knees, pressing himself exactly where I want to feel him most. I gasp as I feel his hard cock flush against my sex. Nothing stands between us now but a few layers of denim. I cock an eyebrow at him, surprised by the size of his…desire.

“What do you expect?” he asks, grinding his stiff length against me ever-so-slowly, “You sitting up on that desk, tucked away in this little office. I could spread you across this desk right now, and you’d love it.”

“I can’t—” I breathe, daring to rest my hands on his firm chest, my words caught in my throat. My fingers run down the smooth front of his cut, tracing the edges of his patches, memorizing the rise and fall of his breath.

“Tell me you want me,” he growls, wrapping his arms around my waist, “Go on. Tell me how much you want me to fuck you.”

“I…I…” I stammer.

“Say it,” he commands, pulling me flush against him, “I want you to beg me for it.”

The throbbing feel of his erection, insistent and mighty against me, is too much for me to handle. My reason is nowhere to be found, my rational mind has nothing at all to say. The only thing I can think about is how badly I want to feel this man split me open on that massive cock of his. Come inside of me like a goddamn levee breaking. And now.

“I want you,” I whisper, taking his bearded face in my hands, “I want you to fuck me Leo, I’m begging you to fuck me.”

“Good,” he says, “That’s what I wanted to hear.” And with that, he finally brings those full, firm lips to mine. The force of his kiss nearly knocks me off the desk.

I press myself against him as he parts my lips with his strong jaw. Thrills run through my entire body as I feel his strong tongue glance against mine, sweeping through my mouth. He tastes incredible, the smoky whiskey still clinging to his tongue. Daringly, I take his lower lip between my teeth and tug, just a bit.

“I see what you like,” he growls, pulling away from me sharply.

“I see that you like it too,” I reply breathlessly, eyes darting down to the impressive swell in the front of his jeans. My entire body is on edge, alive and ready to take him. My clothes could not come off fast enough.

“Actually, I prefer to be the one biting,” he says, lowering his mouth to my neck.

I moan as he kisses along my skin, his scruffy beard rubbing against me as he goes. I feel a pinch as he makes good on his word and bites, just hard enough. My eyes are closed in bliss as he trails his lips along my collarbone, his amazing body bent over me, encasing me. I love how huge he is, how he rises up over the earth like a colossus. All that power, all the might—all mine.

“I want to fuck you dirty, Kelly,” he rasps, his golden, gleaming eyes inches away from my own, “Right here on this desk. I want to strip those tight ass jeans off and ram my cock right into you.”

“Do it, then,” I tell him, breaking into a wild grin, “I want to feel you inside of me, Leo. Right now. Do it.”

“I will,” he says, running his hands down my sides, his fingers bumping along the ridges of my ribs. “But not yet.”

And just like that, he steps away. Disengages. As if it were the easiest thing in the world. I stare up at him, befuddled and too turned on to think straight, let alone form words.

“What?!” I exclaim, as he straightens up and steps away from me, “What the hell are you doing, trying to kill me?”

He’s smiling like mad, shaking his mane of hair and laughing. He straightens his cut and looks me over as I sit up straight, perplexed.

“Just wanted to make sure you were really down,” he says, “You’re as much of a freak as I suspected. Begging for my cock, on the desk? In a strip club? That’s my kind of girl.”

“So you don’t want to fuck me?” I ask, at a loss.

“I do,” he says, “I can’t wait to fill you up. I can’t wait to know how you scream while you’re riding me. But I can tell that you’re the kind of girl that hates to wait. I want to fire you up before we fuck. I want you to drip at the mere sight of me.”

“I’m not any kind of girl,” I say heatedly, leaping off the desk, “I am a woman, dammit. A grown ass woman with needs. The question is, are you the man who’s going to help me tend to them or do I need to look elsewhere for a little action?”