Read Beatrice and Douglas for Free Online Page A
Authors: Kelly Lucille
a bristly hair
and pulled.
“Ouch. What the hell?”
“I’m not a brat.”
“The hell you aren’t.” He pushed her back on the table,
and his mouth was hot on her neck. His hands pushing up her t-shirt until
the only thing between them from the waist up was a scrap of white silk.
She arched into him and the feel of her softness against his hardness was
enough to have him lose the little bit of control he had left. He grabbed
the backside of her denim, pulled her closer with a grind that had her gasping
and pulling at the top of his jeans.
He reached down pulling off her boots, hissing when she
leaned up and bit him on the chin. Then his lips were on hers again,
tongue against tongue, while his hands ripped off her white lace bra and dived
into soft mounds.
Beatrice writhed against him. He had incredible
hands. Big and hard and . . . incredible. Then his lips were
suckling and biting. Her head arched back, her hands pulling him closer,
her hips thrusting.
“Now. Damn it. I need you now.” She said
it with her words and then with hands that yanked down his jeans and briefs and
cupped him. The man was big and hard all over.
“Oh, God, yes.” His voice rough and on the edge of a
groan.
Douglas pulled jeans and white silk down her legs, then
moved back into the arch of her hips. She led with eager hands that
squeezed. He was there, thrusting, filling her so completely that she
wondered if she’d ever get him out again, ever want to. Then they were
moving, eyes locked, they rode, in and out, friction building friction.
Beatrice closed her eyes but Douglas just growled and shook her until she
opened them again.
“Look at me. It’s me who has you. Do you
understand?”
He thrust harder, pulling her hips higher. “Do you
understand? Say it.” There was something primitive in his eyes, the
grim set of his mouth that she had never seen before. He wanted something
more, something that should worry her, but she was almost beyond thought and
couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
“Douglas, please . . .”
“That’s right, say my name. I’m the one. Say
it.”
The pleasure built and built, wave after wave, until she
thought she’d die from it, then she went over and his name was a scream muffled
against his lips. She was lost and then with an oath so was he.
They clung together, both of them knowing nothing was ever going to be the
same.
***
“Are you sure that’s him?”
“Absolutely. There’s no mistaking the eyes.”
“He’s not what I was expecting. Did you see his
hands? They were coated with dirt.”
Benedict studied the blonde coldly. He had always
preferred women with little brains and fewer scruples, but he occasionally
regretted it. Today was a prime example. He did not like to explain
himself.
“It washes off. What I want to hear is that you can
play your part.”
“Of course.”
“Good. With all the money you’ll get for this, you can
afford to get a little dirty.”
Chapter
5
They were lying naked across the drafting table in the
middle of the day. Anyone could decide they wanted a coffee break and
come in. The door was not locked. Still, neither of them moved.
Beatrice covered her eyes and sighed. “This was a
really bad idea.”
He just grunted and continued to nuzzle her sensitive neck,
one hand wrapped around her neck and the other on her hip.
“Well?” Her voice was a whisper of sound. She
cleared her throat.
“Yeah.” He grumbled it against her neck.
“We should get up and get dressed before someone comes
in. This was really unprofessional.”
“Absolutely. Unprofessional as hell.” His hand
pulled her closer as his mouth found her collarbone, and trailed warm lips
across it.
“Obviously, we needed to get that out of our system and now
we can just forget it ever happened.”
“Consider it forgotten.” But his hand on her hip was
pulling her
and pulled.
“Ouch. What the hell?”
“I’m not a brat.”
“The hell you aren’t.” He pushed her back on the table,
and his mouth was hot on her neck. His hands pushing up her t-shirt until
the only thing between them from the waist up was a scrap of white silk.
She arched into him and the feel of her softness against his hardness was
enough to have him lose the little bit of control he had left. He grabbed
the backside of her denim, pulled her closer with a grind that had her gasping
and pulling at the top of his jeans.
He reached down pulling off her boots, hissing when she
leaned up and bit him on the chin. Then his lips were on hers again,
tongue against tongue, while his hands ripped off her white lace bra and dived
into soft mounds.
Beatrice writhed against him. He had incredible
hands. Big and hard and . . . incredible. Then his lips were
suckling and biting. Her head arched back, her hands pulling him closer,
her hips thrusting.
“Now. Damn it. I need you now.” She said
it with her words and then with hands that yanked down his jeans and briefs and
cupped him. The man was big and hard all over.
“Oh, God, yes.” His voice rough and on the edge of a
groan.
Douglas pulled jeans and white silk down her legs, then
moved back into the arch of her hips. She led with eager hands that
squeezed. He was there, thrusting, filling her so completely that she
wondered if she’d ever get him out again, ever want to. Then they were
moving, eyes locked, they rode, in and out, friction building friction.
Beatrice closed her eyes but Douglas just growled and shook her until she
opened them again.
“Look at me. It’s me who has you. Do you
understand?”
He thrust harder, pulling her hips higher. “Do you
understand? Say it.” There was something primitive in his eyes, the
grim set of his mouth that she had never seen before. He wanted something
more, something that should worry her, but she was almost beyond thought and
couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
“Douglas, please . . .”
“That’s right, say my name. I’m the one. Say
it.”
The pleasure built and built, wave after wave, until she
thought she’d die from it, then she went over and his name was a scream muffled
against his lips. She was lost and then with an oath so was he.
They clung together, both of them knowing nothing was ever going to be the
same.
***
“Are you sure that’s him?”
“Absolutely. There’s no mistaking the eyes.”
“He’s not what I was expecting. Did you see his
hands? They were coated with dirt.”
Benedict studied the blonde coldly. He had always
preferred women with little brains and fewer scruples, but he occasionally
regretted it. Today was a prime example. He did not like to explain
himself.
“It washes off. What I want to hear is that you can
play your part.”
“Of course.”
“Good. With all the money you’ll get for this, you can
afford to get a little dirty.”
Chapter
5
They were lying naked across the drafting table in the
middle of the day. Anyone could decide they wanted a coffee break and
come in. The door was not locked. Still, neither of them moved.
Beatrice covered her eyes and sighed. “This was a
really bad idea.”
He just grunted and continued to nuzzle her sensitive neck,
one hand wrapped around her neck and the other on her hip.
“Well?” Her voice was a whisper of sound. She
cleared her throat.
“Yeah.” He grumbled it against her neck.
“We should get up and get dressed before someone comes
in. This was really unprofessional.”
“Absolutely. Unprofessional as hell.” His hand
pulled her closer as his mouth found her collarbone, and trailed warm lips
across it.
“Obviously, we needed to get that out of our system and now
we can just forget it ever happened.”
“Consider it forgotten.” But his hand on her hip was
pulling her