Page 16 of Reckless Temptation

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Page 16 of Reckless Temptation

"So, Mr. Sterling," she starts, her voice dripping with playful mockery yet challenging in its undertone. "Should we talk about the elephant in the room, or should we keep dancing around it?"

A playful warmth rises within me, fueled both by her directness and the undeniable beauty standing before me. I try to keep my amusement under control, appreciating her candidness even if it catches me off guard. "Dances can be enlightening, Miss Laurent."

She leans closer, her scent teasing my senses and her proximity making my heart race just a bit faster. "True, but they also have an end. And when the music stops, there are always questions."

We're inches apart, her wavy brunette locks tumbling gracefully over her shoulders, and I can't help but get caught in her gaze. Still, memories of the past flood back. "Your father painted quite a picture of me, didn't he?"

“My father spoke of a young man he tried to mentor, one who was too ambitious for his own good. Was he wrong?"

"That's one version," I retort sharply. "The other is of a mentor who sold his protégé down the river for a quick buck. He betrayed our vision and left me out in the cold."

She tilts her head, taking in my words. "Was the setback really that personal, or is this just a bruised ego speaking?"

A dangerous calm takes over me. "Your father didn't just betray a business partner; he betrayed someone he called a son. But look around, Isabelle. Who's on top now?"

“Is this all just a game to you?” She tilts her head slightly, studying me with an intense curiosity. “What do you really want from me, Xavier?" The question hangs in the air, an invitation and a challenge all at once.

Suddenly, the gravity of her presence and the electric charge of our words pull me toward her with a force I can't resist. Without giving it a second thought, I close the remaining space between us in a bold, purposeful stride. Her eyes, those beautiful depths of brown, widen slightly in surprise, but they don’t shy away.

I don't ask for permission or wait for a signal. I just lean in, and our lips crash together. The kiss is fierce, a combination of pent-up frustrations, lingering questions, and raw attraction. There's a hunger to it, a desperation that speaks of more than just physical desire.

Isabelle's hands wander up to my hair, pulling me closer to deepen the kiss. Our tongues tangle in a heated dance, and I can taste the sweet flavor of her lips mixed with the heady scent of her perfume. It's intoxicating, and I can feel my body responding with a primal need as reality slowly begins to melt away.

Spinning us away from the balcony railing, I press her against the wall in a shadowed corner. Her breath hitches as I trail kisses along her jawline and neck. My hands grip her hips, pulling her body flush against mine. A low moan escapes her lips as I suck on the sensitive skin behind her ear.

I trail my fingers down her thigh, hiking up her dress and reveling in the feel of her bare skin against my fingertips. Isabelle's fingers dig into my shoulders, urging me on. With one hand gripping her hip to hold her in place, my other hand slides between her legs, brushing against the silky fabric of her panties. I can feel her wet heat and press harder, swallowing her gasp with another bruising kiss.

She lets out a low moan as I circle her swollen, sensitive clit. Her body tenses in pleasure as I tease her with agonizing slowness, but I want more. To get even closer. To feel her pulsate around my cock, to hear her moan my name, to watch as her back arches in pleasure.

Pushing her panties aside, I stroke her slit. She's drenched, soaking my fingers as I slide them deep inside her and then out again.

Raising my fingers between us, I suck the salty-sweet taste of her from them, then let her do the same. Her tongue twists around my fingers, her eyes never leaving mine. My hard cock presses tight against my slacks at the sight of this confident, sexy woman.

"This is what I want from you," I growl against her lips. "I want to swallow every drop of your pleasure. It all belongs to me."

I kiss my way down her body until I'm kneeling in front of her, her dress pushed up around her waist, her silk-clad pussy at eye level. Hooking my fingers in the waistband of her panties, I tug until the material snaps, and I stuff the scrap of fabric into my pocket.

"Xavier!" she gasps on a half-laugh, and I love the sound of my name on her lips. "What are you doing?"

"Taking what I want," I tell her, nudging her legs apart with my hand and admiring the sight of her glistening pink cunt.

"Oh, God," she moans as my tongue strokes her folds, flicking over her engorged clit.

She squirms in pleasure as I edge my fingers inside her again, my tongue swirling around the bundle of nerves in tight circles.

"Yes," she hisses. "God, Xavier, don't stop."

I can't help but smile at her panting pleas, especially with her father on the other side of the balcony doors, probably wondering where his sweet daughter has gotten to. If only he knew.

I curl my finger upward and stroke her inner walls as my tongue continues to work her clit. Soon, she's gasping in climax, her body shuddering. As she comes, I lap up her juices, then stand to kiss her mouth again. She tastes divine, like a fucking goddess.

And she deserves more than half-truths and hidden intentions.

Pulling back, I drag a hand through my hair. “You think I'm using you, just playing some game to get back at your father?” My voice is low, edged with frustration. "He took from me, yes, but this, us… it wasn't part of the plan."

Her brow arches. “So what’s changed?”

"Look, your father screwed me over, big time. But you...” I hesitate, grappling with the words. “You’re a wildcard. I didn't expect to feel this for you, whatever it is."




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