“How will you do that?” I challenge. I’m way more turned on than afraid. I want all of his attention on me. On my body.
Maybe even on my business, even though he pissed me off.
He moves quickly, covering my mouth and nose with his free hand, blocking my air.
Surprise and fear leap to the surface, and I fight him, my survival instincts all kicking in.
He releases my wrists and shifts his other hand between my legs, cupping my mons firmly. He lets me take a quick breath, then smothers me again. Shock, terror and pleasure mingle in a rage of sensations. Blood rushes to my clit, tingles start up everywhere. He rubs firmly between my legs the whole time I freak out about not being able to draw a breath.
Just when I’m frantic, he pulls his hand away from my mouth and closes it around my throat instead. I suck in gasps of breath. It’s only been thirty seconds, and I’m on the cusp of an orgasm. He doesn’t choke me, he just uses his hand at my throat to hold me pinned against the wall while he works his fingers over my folds. He’s not even inside me, and I’m ready to go. I reach down and cover his hand with my own, pushing his fingers more firmly against my clit, my entrance, my anus.
He grins and nods, his eyes glittering with pleasure as my breathing grows more shallow. His other hand slides up my body, tracing a path up my neck and sending shivers through me, before coming to rest on my jaw. He looks into my eyes, and I can see the intensity in his gaze.
“I could fuck you all day, every day,” he whispers, and I can feel his breath tickle my skin. I nod, unable to find the words.
He tightens his grip around my throat and leans in, pressing his lips to mine hungrily. His tongue explores my mouth, tasting and teasing, and my arousal grows.
With a growl, he slides two fingers inside me. I gasp at the sudden pleasure as he strokes, pushing his wrist against my clit as he does. He starts to move faster and harder, stimulating me in ways I didn’t know could happen so closely to sex and being more than satisfied.
We just had sex.
Not being able to get enough of this man, I writhe and squirm against him, desperate for more. He takes up my challenge, alternating between hard thrusts and gentle caresses, driving me closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.
He responds to my moans, pushing deeper and faster with each stroke. I can feel his breathing hitch as I mewl and pant against him, my body trembling with pleasure. His other hand slides around my waist, pulling me closer, and his tongue finds its way into my mouth, tasting and exploring me as his fingers move faster and faster over my sensitive skin.
The sensations are overwhelming. Every nerve is on fire, and I’m close to the edge, my hips bucking against his hand in a desperate attempt to reach climax—again. He must feel it too, and his tongue moves more fiercely against my own, his fingers working harder and harder until I can’t take it anymore, and I scream out my release, my body shaking and shuddering.
As I come, choking and gasping for my breath, Armando keeps rubbing between my legs. Stars dance before my eyes, and I close them, shuttled away in some other universe.
When I come back to reality, when my breath slows, and I open my eyes, I find Armando leaning his forehead against the wall beside my head, stroking my jaw with his thumb. His fingers still wrap around my neck and stroke between my legs.
A full-body shudder runs through me, another release.
“Don’t give up, Flowers. Stop holding your breath. You can fix this.”
I sag against his body. “How?” I warble. I sound pathetic. I should be pissed over what he just did to me. Even if I liked it, it was high-handed and scary. I should push him away and tell him never to touch me again, especially in my place of business.
Instead, I fall into his arms and let him hold me up.
“You try every idea you have until something takes hold. Ask for help. Keep working it. You can do this. You’re good at what you do. Trust in that.”
As far as motivational speeches go, it’s pretty flimsy, but I do strangely feel better. That’s probably just the orgasm talking.
I push away from him, even though I’m not sure my legs will hold me. “You’re still an asshole,” I mutter.
“Believe it,” he confirms as I walk away on shaky legs but breathing much better than before.
Looking over my shoulder, I catch the way his eyes watch every single move I make. He’s hunting, and I’m an easy prey.
I could run. I should run. But with the way he watches over me, I’d surely trip on my lust and desire for this man and fall flat on my face. But then knowing Armando, he’d simply pick me up, smack my ass for trying to flee and fuck me all over again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Armando
Hannah’s all discombobulated. I can’t decide if she’s still mad at me or just in a post-orgasmic brain-fuck. She moves restlessly around the shop, randomly stopping to stare at her products but not getting anything done. I suppose it could be a business-related brain-fuck.
The door opens, and a tall young woman with bleach-blonde ringlets and freckles across her nose breezes in. “Sorry I’m late.” She heads straight past the counter into the area where I’m lounging and drops her purse on the desk beside me. “Hi.”
