Page 86 of A Love Most Fatal
I clear my throat and shift in my seat. “I can’t blame McGowan for wanting to be careful, but he’s willfully difficult when I’m involved.”
“Well, then I hope you’re just as difficult for him,” Nate says.
“I’m not making it easy, at least.”
This deal could have been done a month ago if I had far undercut our worth and agreed to his outrageous demands. But I’m stubborn.
McGowan never would have tried this shit on my dad. I’m not sure if that’s because my dad was a man, or if it’s because he was better at business.
The niggling imposter syndrome worms around my gut again, too familiar these past weeks. Without Cillian this deal wouldn’t even exist. I have no problem getting other builds around town, and good ones, but not usually “$400 million” good.
“I just hate being taken advantage of. Makes me feel small.”
“You’re a giant,” Nate whispers, and kisses me on my head because, in private, I guess this is what we do now. When shrouded by the night and the promise that none of this is permanent, it’s easy to let him hold and touch and kiss me as if he’s my person. We can pretend whatever we like when no one is here to see it.
“You’ll do better work if you sleep past seven, eat some of the quiche Leo has prepped in the fridge, and look at the contract with fresh eyes in the morning.”
Sleeping in sounds like a dream to me, a luxury, one I don’t think I can afford right now. Maybe not ever again.
He kisses me on my cheek, then my jaw, then my neck. His lips press against my skin for longer moments as he travels down my neck. I feel quite awake now that I have his mouth on me.
“I’ll help you get ready for bed.”
“Nate,” I start as if to stop him, but I’m already readjusting so he has easier access to my chest.
“Shh.” He starts unbuttoning the tiny buttons on the front of my dress. “Just tonight,” he mutters, and I can’t help the smile that takes over my face. “I love this dress.”
“This old thing?” I say, but I know he loves it. Last time I wore the flowy, floral dress, his eyes traced my body every time I entered a room with him the whole day.
He reaches in the dress and pulls down the cups of my bra until my nipples are on display for him and he immediately takes one in his mouth. He groans as he does, and my breathing is already labored. He’s so good at touching me, like he’s been learning my body for years instead of just weeks. Fourteen tonights.
I slip my fingers through his hair, which is so soft and slightly curling at the ends. He needs another haircut soon, but I love the length, love the noises he makes when I pull on it or tug his head closer to me.
One of his hands slides down my body and up the hem of my skirt until he’s at the peak of my thighs, teasing the silky fabric that covers me.
“You’re so good,” I breathe, surprising myself. It’s true, though, heisreally very good.
“I have to be,” he says, moving to pay equal attention to my other breast. “I see the competition every day and they are very handsome.”
I giggle, then hiccup as he presses circles on my clit.
“You’re hotter than them,” I say. It’s not a lie; I can’t imagine a single person on that list I would want kneeling between my legs more than Nate. “And nicer.”
He gives me a wry glare, like he doesn’t believe me, but pulls my underwear aside and presses two fingers into me anyway. My back arches pressing my hips to the very edge of the chair.
“You just want me for my orgasms,” he says.
Panting, I grin. “I do like the orgasms.”
Perhaps sensing that we are toeing too close to something real—something like the feelings bubbling around in my stomach—Nate stands and pulls me up to sit on my desk in frontof him. He kisses me deep, his tongue clashing with mine before pulling my lower lip between his teeth.
I work open his leather belt, then his slacks, pulling his already hard cock out between us. His body tenses every time my hand touches him, and I revel in the power. From his back pocket he pulls out a condom and makes quick work of sheathing himself with it.
“Ms. Morelli,” he murmurs, and kisses a line up the side of my neck.
“Yes, Mr. Gilbert?”
“I’m going to fuck you now,” he says. I grin, putting up no fight as he pushes my panties aside and slides into me. We both gasp. I think I’m growing too reliant on the feeling of him inside of me at the end of each day.