Page 49 of Damage Control


  He grasped my hips, and his eyes met mine. I had only a moment to know what was coming before he lifted me and thrust deep. I would have cried out, but he kissed me, swallowing the sound even as my nails dug into his shoulders. He’d taken off his shirt and pants, as if he needed to feel his skin on mine as much as I did.

  He kissed me like I’d never been kissed before. Like he was starving, and I was the only thing that could satisfy him. His hunger fed my own, and I rocked up against him. He took me hard and fast, riding my body at a pace that left me gasping.

  His cock swelled, sliding over sensitized skin, shoving me right back into that realm of pleasure where nothing existed but the two of us. He muttered my name against my lips, tangled a hand in my hair, crushed me against him.

  Biting his lower lip, I pleaded, “More. Harder.”

  He laughed, the vibration rippling through every place our bodies touched. “I’m about ready to fuck us through the bed and into the floor.”

  “I’m good...” A spasm of pleasure twisted in me, and I moaned. “I’m good with that.”

  He responded by catching me behind the knees as he pushed up onto his own knees, slowing his thrusts as he pushed my legs even farther apart. I cried out as he stretched me wider, hit deeper. It felt amazing, but it still wasn’t quite enough.

  Then he stroked his thumb over my clit, and my breath froze in my lungs. He did it a second, then a third time, each caress matched with a hard thrust, combining sensations into a ball of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm me.

  And then I exploded, my world going white.

  Dimly, I heard a ragged groan, and his hips jerked against me. His body stiffened, and then he collapsed against me, his head between my breasts.

  My heart hammered, so loud in my ears, I could hear nothing else for the first few seconds. I could barely raise my hand, but I managed to get it to the top of his head, to stroke my fingers through his hair.

  As I started to get my breath back, he spoke, “Please tell me you have more than one condom because I sure as hell don’t want to be trying to find a place open tonight.”

  The table was cool and smooth under my chest, and behind me, Dash was all heat and muscle – and cock.

  That beautiful, thick, amazing cock.

  I groaned as he slowly filled me. We were up to my third and last condom, and I couldn’t fault his choice in position. He’d come up behind me as I was trying to get everything back into the purse I’d dropped when we came inside.

  I hadn’t even gotten close to finishing that task, but sex was more fun than organization. Especially when I was approaching orgasm number...I realized I’d lost count somewhere around six.

  Gripping the edge of the table, I bit my lip to keep from crying out as he hit the end of me. There’d been a couple times in the past where I’d had a weekend sex marathon, but Dash was nothing like my prior lovers. Everything was more intense with him, and I knew my body would be feeling it for days.

  But it felt damn good right now.

  He pulled out, just as slow as he’d gone in, and it was torture.

  The best kind of torture.

  Moaning, I thrust back against him – or tried at least. One firm hand on my hip kept me from moving too far.

  “Be still,” he demanded.

  “Stop teasing me,” I countered, voice breathless.

  “Every time you bent over a desk this week, especially in that skirt you wore the other day, I’ve wanted to do this.”

  He drove in harder, and I gasped as a jolt went through me. I was so sensitive that I was riding that fine line between pain and pleasure, unable to think of anything beyond him and me and the fire between us. I slapped my palms on the table, needing to touch something, needing some sort of outlet.

  “Just like this…” He slammed into me again.

  Again.

  I closed my eyes, letting each thrust drive out little primal grunts of sound. I was beyond being able to form coherent words.

  “Fuck, Astra,” he ground out the words, each syllable telling me that he was as far gone as I was. He shoved a hand into my hair and bent me back, twisting my head around until he could kiss me, bite my bottom lip. “You drive me crazy.”

  I might have told him he did the same to me.

  If I could have talked. If I could have breathed.

  But I couldn’t.

  He yanked me up, bracing me against him with one arm around my waist as his mouth made its way down my neck. All my weight bore me down on his cock, our height difference forcing me to the very tips of my toes. No more deep, driving thrusts. Just slow rocking moves and my own internal clenches. Just the irrepressible sense of fullness, of being stretched to near the breaking point. That and the gentle sucking and biting on my throat that told me he was marking me.

  “I…I can’t…Dash…”

  He let go of my hair and palmed one of my breasts, squeezing my nipple until I hit the point of no return.

  The climax tore into me, and I fell apart.

  Lying on the couch, curled up against him, I fought the wave of sleep that was coming. Between the awesome meal Didi prepared and the vigorous exercise Dash and I had just done to work off all those calories, I was about ready for bed. Well, for sleep anyway.

  He’d put on his pants before we’d collapsed here. I hadn’t bothered with anything, just grabbing a long sweater I’d tossed on the back of a chair.

  I yawned, smothering it behind my hand.

  “You’re tired.”

  The words sounded oddly stilted.

  I straightened, twisting to look at him. I didn’t have much of a chance though, because he got up now, looking around the suite of rooms with an unfocused expression. “I…” He stopped and rubbed at his neck.

  Shit.

  “We’re both probably tired,” I said with more cheer than I felt. “Long day, lots of food. Great sex.”

  His eyes came back to mine, but they were guarded.

  “Don’t feel like you have to hang and cuddle.” I rolled my eyes and forced a smile as I looked away.

  He looked really uncomfortable. Dash was a nice guy, but as good as he was at impulsive sex, I had a feeling he’d always avoided someone he actually knew. I’d always tried to keep from hooking up with guys from work, but I hadn’t managed to hold to my good intentions a time or two. I was eager to avoid the awkwardness I’d experienced then. Trying to spare us both, I got off the couch and went over to kiss his cheek with a light, platonic touch.

  “This was fun. A release of all that tension between us. A good time, but no reason for either of us to get moon-eyed.”

  “Of course.” He gave me a short nod and turned away.

  As he gathered up his clothes, I rubbed the heel of my hand over my chest as an ache began to throb there.

  No. This wasn’t awkward.

  It was just…miserable. In under three minutes, he was heading for the door, and I had to bite my lip to keep from asking him to stay. From telling him that I’d changed my mind, and I wanted him to spend the night here, with me.

  But I didn’t.

  He was moving so fast, it was like he couldn’t wait to get out of there, and I wondered if I’d misread the situation, if there wouldn’t have been any awkwardness because this had been just another night for him. Maybe he hadn’t been nervous. Maybe he’d been trying to figure out how to let me down easy.

  And I’d apparently just done it for him.

  Astra’s story continues in the full novel book, LA Misbehaved: Complete. CLICK HERE to keep reading.

  Also by M. S. Parker

  The Billionaire’s Muse

  Bound

  One Night Only

  Damage Control

  Take Me, Sir

  Make Me Yours

  The Billionaire’s Sub

  The Billionaire’s Mistress

  Con Man Box Set

  HERO Box Set

  A Legal Affair Box Set

  The Client

  Indecent E
ncounter

  Dom X Box Set

  Unlawful Attraction Box Set

  Chasing Perfection Box Set

  Blindfold Box Set

  Club Prive Box Set

  The Pleasure Series Box Set

  Exotic Desires Box Set

  Pure Lust Box Set

  Casual Encounter Box Set

  Sinful Desires Box Set

  Twisted Affair Box Set

  Serving HIM Box Set

  About the Author

  M. S. Parker is a USA Today Bestselling author and the author of the Erotic Romance series, Club Privè and Chasing Perfection.

  Living in Las Vegas, she enjoys sitting by the pool with her laptop writing on her next spicy romance.

  Growing up all she wanted to be was a dancer, actor or author. So far only the latter has come true but M. S. Parker hasn’t retired her dancing shoes just yet. She is still waiting for the call for her to appear on Dancing With The Stars.

  When M. S. isn't writing, she can usually be found reading– oops, scratch that! She is always writing.

  For more information:

  www.msparker.com

  [email protected]

  Acknowledgments

  First, I would like to thank all of my readers. Without you, my books would not exist. I truly appreciate each and every one of you.

  A big “thanks” goes out to all the Facebook fans, street team, beta readers, and advanced reviewers. You are a HUGE part of the success of all my series.

  I have to thank my PA, Shannon Hunt. Without you my life would be a complete and utter mess. Also a big thank you goes out to my editor Lynette and my wonderful cover designer, Sinisa. You make my ideas and writing look so good.

 


 

  M. S. Parker, Damage Control

 


 

 
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