but somehow James had managed to steal it, or hide it, because it was no
place to be found. And she needed it.
“You look pretty there, Ella.” She jumped as James stepped to the doorway, staring
at her with those hot, sin-filled eyes.
“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be working.” She would have
jumped from the lounge chair if he hadn’t moved to stand in front of it.
She stared up at him, fighting to control her breathing as well as the desire that
shook her to her soul.
“I took the rest of the day off.” He shrugged his broad shoulders as he pushed his
hands into the pockets of his pants. The action only drew attention to the thick ridge
beneath the material. “Is your pussy wet?”
Ella blinked as the question took her by surprise.
“Are you insane?” her voice squeaked in shock.
“Most likely,” he growled. “Make me crazier. It’s your chance for revenge, Ella. Tell
me how wet your pussy is.”
She bit her lip, breathing fast and hard as she seriously considered the request.
“Go back to work,” she finally whispered desperately, shaking her head.
“Ella, remember how nice I was to you yesterday when my mouth sucked that
sweet little clit of yours?”
How could she forget?
“I didn’t ask you to break into my room, James.”
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“I want you to suck my cock like that, Ella. While you’re tied belly down on my
bed, my cock thrusting slow and easy in your mouth and I inflate the plug I’m going to
push up your sweet, virgin ass.”
“Stop. Why are you doing this to me?” Her pussy was gushing between her thighs,
so hot it felt blistered by her need. “For God’s sake, James, surely you can find someone
to fuck. Do you have to torture me this way?”
She pushed her fingers through her loose hair, feeling the silky strands brush her
shoulders, almost shivering at the caress against her ultra sensitive flesh. She was being
driven crazy, and he knew it. Maybe it was some kind of messed up mid-life crisis, she
thought desperately. Because she knew her own arousal had never tormented her to
this degree. It was hell and she wanted it to stop. She wanted him to leave. Or did she?
“I won’t waste my breath answering that question,” he bit out as he stooped down
at the end of the lounger. “You want to control it, Ella? Do you really think you can?”
He was so handsome he broke her heart. Hard and toned, his body muscular and so
filled with male grace that it took her breath every time she looked at him. And his face,
arrogant with just a touch of the aristocratic in his strong, straight nose and superior
expression.
“James, I’m asking you to stop this.” Her heart was racing out of control. How was
she supposed to deny him when her body ached so desperately for him?
He was like a fever in her blood. As long as she stayed away from him, she could
survive it. But now, with his desire for her so clear, her needs raging through her body,
she couldn’t find the will to resist him. She was weak. She admitted it and she hated it.
Hated the emotional and physical responses that she couldn’t fight any longer.
“Lay back for me, Ella,” he whispered softly. “Lay back, and let me show you what
I can do for you.”
Ella watched him helplessly. Her body was tense, demanding action. Demanding
that she do as he ask and lay back in the lounger for him. She watched as his tongue
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touched his sensual lips, as though anticipating a meal, and she knew what he wanted.
Knew what he would do to her. Her pussy gushed in response.
She whimpered as he moved, his hands reaching for her arms, pulling them gently,
taking the support she used to keep her body upright as he released the back support of
the lounger. He lowered her until her back rested on the flat surface.
Ella stared up at him, trembling, hating the weakness that flooded her body. Damn
him. He was so assured, so sensual, so damned