Page 65 of Darling Obsession
“You showed up and threw me in your car!”
When he doesn’t have a comeback for that, he kisses me again. With a lot of tongue, and so much hunger it takes my breath away. I melt around him like caramel.
“I need to fuck you,” he growls. “Please, let me fuck you.” His hand slides deeper up my skirt—and grabs my panties.
“Oh.Whoa.Okay, um… we’re in your car. Can we, just… go somewhere…”
I don’t want to say,go to your house so you can grope me in private, when he just told me not to show up there. I have no idea where we are. For all I know, we’ve been driving in circles.
I really don’t want to do this in his car, with a driver three feet away.
But Ireallywant to do this.
The way he just saidpleaseandfuckmade my insides melt and my lady parts gush. I squirm in his lap, trying to keep space between my pussy and his fist, which is gripping my panties like they’re denying him a delicious snack and he’s fucking starving.
He draws a breath, his chest rising as he collects himself.
Then he releases my panties, regretfully.
He reaches to press a button. The black divider slides down, revealing Manus in the front seat.
“Oh, shit,” I squeak, feeling vulnerable now that Manus can see me, all wrapped around his boss.
Harlan dumps me off his lap.
He drags his hand through his hair and orders his driver, “Take us home.”
Chapter 11
Quinn
When we get to Harlan’s place, Manus drops us at the front door. The nice butler greets us as Harlan drags me inside by the hand. I guess I don’t walk fast enough for his liking, because he picks me up—and tosses me over his shoulder, carrying me upstairs.
Holy shit.Men really do this?
Upside down, blood rushes to my face. My hair is all over the place. I’m glad I can’t see the butler. I really hope he’s not watching this, but hell, I would if I were him.
On the drive here, Harlan drilled me with questions. Am I on birth control? Am I sleeping with anyone else? Did I really break up with Justin?
I guess the answers I gave satisfied his computer-brain’s need for information, because he takes me straight into his bedroom, and tosses me down. I scream. I can’t see where he’s tossing me, so until I land on the king-size bed, it’s startling.
He closes the bedroom door, and tears off his suit jacket, stalking over to me.
I scramble up to a sitting position as he stands over me, unbuttoning his black shirt.
“Hi. Um, this is fast,” I say nervously.
“It’s not fast,” he says with intensity. “I’ve wanted this since I first saw you.”
Mind blown.
“At Velvet?”
“At the bakery.”
“Oh…” My brain scrambles to make sense of this new information, and file it in logical order. Which is more challenging than it should be, as Harlan peels his shirt off in front of me. He’s wearing a tight black undershirt, and I already know he’s strong, but he’s surprisingly cut under his suit. I see pecs, hard nipples, and a rippling six-pack hugged in black fabric.
Before I can even rip it off with my eyes—or my hands—he grabs me under my knees. I’m yanked toward the edge of the bed. Then he spreads my knees, dropping me flat on my back. He towers over me, his hands traveling up my inner thighs.
