Free Destiny by Design by Wylie Kinson Page B

yanked Ellis against him, cutting her off. He tilted her chin up until her eyes met his. He squinted, trying to read her soul, before he crushed her mouth beneath his. The kiss was hard, fast, cruel…but he made his point. He took a menacing step forward, backing her into the collapsible worktable.
     
    “You have the nerve to speak of distraction? Do you have any idea how difficult it is to walk around with a police detective all night with an aching, semi-hard cock?”
     
    “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice sounding small in her own ears.
     
    “And what were you thinking when you put on this tight little sweater? Hmmm, Goldilocks?”
     
    Simon was mocking her and she didn’t like it. He ran his hands up her sides until his thumbs rested under the swell of her breasts. Ellis’ breath hitched. “I…”
     
    “You don’t mind distracting me , do you? The way it forms to your ‘just right’ assets? Let’s see,” Simon said, as he laid both hands over her breasts.
     
    She could feel her nipples tightening—straining against the lace of her bra, desperately seeking the attention he was so aptly providing. Her mind might have been advising her to end this silly game but her body yearned for his touch. He gave a gentle squeeze that evoked a shiver of pleasure.
     
    “Yes, I have to agree, Goldilocks. They’re perfect.”
     
    He bent his head and ran his tongue along the rising swell of flesh between her pearl necklace and cleavage. His low, throaty chuckle ignited a spark that rocked her body—alarm and desire.
     
    He encircled her wrists and manually fixed them around his neck before his large hands resume their exploration of her sweater. Simon’s mouth skimmed her jaw, pressing kisses down the side of her neck. Ellis winced at the pleasure-pain abrasion of his day-old whiskers and arched her neck to offer fuller access. She breathed in his heady masculine scent and found herself intoxicated by the smell of his skin. His hands roamed her back, kneading her shoulder blades, massaging her spine, working his way lower, lower, until both hands cupped her curved bottom. He squeezed, enjoying the roundness of her flesh and moaning in delight against her neck. She pressed her hips against his groin, at which point he stopped nipping her earlobe and whispered, “Oh no, Goldilocks. Not this time.”
     
    He hoisted her up onto the edge of the table and with gentle force, spread her legs apart as far as her skirt would allow. He was inches from her face, a mischievous glint in the gray-green eyes that bore into hers with a mix of lust and joyful revenge. Ellis inhaled sharply as his calloused hand stroked the inside of her knee, caressing her supple flesh, inching higher and higher toward her inner thigh. A familiar tightening seized her loins, radiating pulses of pleasure from her center.
     
    His fingers traced the edge of her panties and still he held her gaze—unwavering. His lips curled up at the edges with a hint of amusement, a hint of malice. This was no dream. Not this time.
     
    Simon fingered the edge of the soft material, tugging and playing with the lace trim, letting his fingers skim the silky curls and satiny flesh between her legs. With a barely audible whimper, she tilted her hips forward, pushing against his hand. She saw his jaw clench, a slight movement that betrayed his intensity, divulged his satisfaction in the power he had over her.
     
    Finally, with a languid advance, his long middle finger penetrated her warmth. He impaled her, pushed deep inside without warning and watched her eyes grow big. Her muscles constricted around him. She felt a gush of pleasure, a cold-hot shiver as he moved in and out with subtle force, watching her face, every expression. He enjoyed her reactions as he played with her, burying his finger as far as it would go, turning it and pressing against the walls of her channel, making her moan with every thrust. He reveled in his control.
     
    Ellis gasped and