His Convenient Virgin Bride / Seduction on the CEO’s Terms: His Convenient Virgin Bride

She didn’t trust herself to speak, and she needed him to think it didn’t matter, so she waved her hand to tell him to forget about it. She wished he’d back off now and leave her to wallow.

But he took a step closer, then another, and another. His eyes went dark, from pewter to slate to midnight.

She stilled, unable to breathe. Her chest went tight. Her heart worked overtime to pump her thickening blood. And she found herself gazing up at him, feeling the pinpricks of longing flow over her heating skin.

Suddenly he clamped his jaw and his hands curled into fists. “We can’t.”

No, they couldn’t.

Wait a minute. Couldn’t what? Did he mean what she thought he meant?

“Stephanie. You’re my client.”

Yes, she was.

And that mattered.

At least it should matter.

Shouldn’t it?

But a kiss wouldn’t hurt. A kiss was nothing. She’d kissed a dozen men, well, boys really. A kiss didn’t have to lead anywhere. It didn’t have to mean anything.

And then at least she’d know. She’d know his touch, his scent, his taste.

She subconsciously swayed toward him.

“Stephanie.” His voice was strangled.

The world seemed to pause for breath.

And then he was reaching, pulling, engulfing her, plastering her body against his, flattening her breasts, surrounding her with his strong arms. His mouth came down on hers, open, hot, all encompassing.

Passion shot through her body, igniting every nerve ending, every fiber from her hair to her toes.

He tipped his head, deepening the kiss. She opened her mouth, shocked that these intense sensations could come from a simple kiss. Her arms stretched around his neck, and her body instinctively arched against him.

His hands slid down her spine, lower, and lower still. She gasped at the sensation, moaning when the heat of his palms cupped her bottom.

She curled her fingertips into his hairline, struggling for an anchor, her knees going weak, as the subsonic vibrations of arousal sapped the strength of her legs. She kissed him harder, her thigh relaxing, allowing his own to press between, sending shock waves through her torso.

“Stephanie,” he rasped, and she loved the breathless sound of his voice.

He groaned then, breaking away, reaching backward to unclasp her hands.

But she fought back, shaking free from his grasp, cupping his face and peppering his mouth with quick kisses. She did not want this feeling to end.

He gave a guttural groan, enveloping her again, taking over the rhythm, bending her backward and thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth while one hand slid up her rib cage, surrounding her breast.

She kissed him fervently, fists tightening, toes curling, as she struggled to get closer and closer.

Then suddenly, she was lifted from the floor, scooped into his arms. The kisses continued and sensations built as he carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. There, he set her down, and his fingers swiftly scrambled with the buttons on her blouse.

Yes. Skin to skin. They absolutely needed to be skin to skin. She fumbled with the knot in his tie, making little progress. She switched to the buttons on his white shirt.

He chuckled deep in his chest as he swooped off her blouse, removing her bra in one deft motion. “I win,” he breathed in triumph.

Then he helped her out, and tore open his shirt, discarding it on the floor.

She sighed in sublime satisfaction as his hot body came up against hers. Her breasts and belly tingled, and her skin flushed with pleasure.

He lifted her once more, sinking onto the bed full-length. His hand found her bare breast, strumming the nipple to exquisite arousal. His kisses roamed from her mouth to her neck to her shoulder, and finally to the hard beads of her sensitized nipples. She was restless, itchy, and her hands felt empty, but she didn’t know what to do with them.

She buried them in his short hair, convulsively tightening her fingertips against her scalp. Her thighs twitched apart, and he settled between them. A burst of desire rocketed through her belly. She reached for the waistband of his slacks, certain they needed less clothing between them and more heated skin.

He helped her out again, rising to strip off the rest of their clothes. He paused then, his gaze sweeping hotly over every single inch of her nakedness.

She loved the way he was looking at her, as if he liked what he saw. She loved that she was naked, loved that she could stare right back at his glorious, hot, sculpted body.

He slowly lowered himself against her, one palm running from her knee to her breasts, then back again. He gently eased her legs apart, watching her expression. Then he kissed her eyelids, took her mouth once more in a deep, lingering, passionate kiss.

His touch became firm, his movements more hurried, and when he tore open a condom, she experienced a moment of fear. But then he was back, and his kisses were magic, and her body took over, spreading and arching and welcoming him.

She expected a pain, but it was minor and fleeting, and the building sparks of desire quickly filled her mind. He adjusted her body, and the sensations intensified. She dragged in labored breaths, hands convulsing against his back, toes curled and hips arching to meet him with every stroke.

They rode a wave that stretched on and on, until his body tensed. His rhythm increased. He cried out her name, while lights and sound exploded in her mind, making her weightless, suspended in time, before she pulsed back to earth and felt the weight of Alec on top of her.

His breathing slowed, and he kissed her temple, her ear, her neck.

Then he dragged in a labored gasp. “Stephanie Ryder, you blow my mind.”

She struggled to catch her own breath. “If I could talk,” she panted. “I’d tell you exactly the same thing.”

He chuckled deep, rolling over to put her on top.

Her limbs felt like jelly. But now that it was over, a soreness crept in between her legs. She shifted to ease it.

“Careful,” he warned, reaching his hand between them. He eased out of her body.

But then he frowned, lifting his fingers to peer at them in the bright moonlight. “What the hell?”

He whirled his head, pasting her with an accusing look. “You’re a virgin?”

“Not anymore.”

He recoiled in what looked like horror. “Why didn’t you say something?“

“Why would I?” It was her problem, not his. Besides, it wasn’t like she was saving herself for some mythical future marriage.