Greek Mavericks: At The Greek's Pleasure. Maisey Yates

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      The sound that escaped her lips was raw and desperate, her hands clutching his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his skin through the fabric of his suit jacket. Then she slid her palms down flat, grabbing hold of the front of his shirt and tugging hard, sending buttons flying as she wrenched it open. She pushed his jacket from his shoulders, grabbing hold of his shirt and shoving it down, too. He unbuttoned the cuffs, helping her and her progress, and untucking it from his pants and throwing it down onto the floor.

      She looked completely shocked, and wholly satisfied by her actions as she regarded his body. Then she pressed her palms to his chest and slid her fingers down to his stomach, her fingernails scraping him lightly as she did. She grabbed hold of his belt, making quick work of that, as well.

      “Greedy,” he said, taking hold of her wrists and drawing her arms up over her head, holding her there with one hand as he set to work on the buttons of her silk blouse with the other.

      She fought against him, the color in her cheeks deepening, her breasts rising and falling with the shallow gasps of her breath. He chuckled when her shirt fell open, revealing an insubstantial red lace bra and he imagined she thought it made her seem daring.

      She arched her back, thrusting her breasts into greater prominence. He tightened his hold on her, pressing her hands more firmly against the wall. “You don’t get to set the terms,” he said. “Not in the boardroom, not in the bedroom. I am in charge in all things.”

      “Always a competition with you, isn’t it?” she asked.

      “Oh, agape, it has never been a competition. How can it be when I always win?”

      For the first time, he saw a slight flicker of doubt in her eyes. But it was quickly replaced by a challenge. “So insecure that you have to exert your dominance in such a cliché fashion? You are exactly the same here as you are in the office.”

      He leaned in, his lips a whisper away from hers. “You’re going to pay for that.”

      “I hope this isn’t an empty threat, Apollo,” she said, the words throaty, enticing. “You seem to be full of those.”

      He closed the distance between them, closing his teeth around her bottom lip and biting her. She gasped and he pulled away. The flush in her cheeks had spread to her neck, had down to the full swell of her breasts. She might be angry, but she was aroused, too.

      “One thing you need to learn, agape, is that my threats are never empty. It’s simply that the consequences might be delayed in coming.”

      She looked down, then back up. “I do hope the coming isn’t terribly delayed today.”

      Those words, coming from Elle’s lips, seemed shocking. From any other woman it might have been commonplace dirty talk. Not even all that dirty when it came down to it. But from Elle? It had the desired effect.

      He was so hard he thought he was going to burst through the zipper on his pants. His heart was raging, his hand shaking as he undid the last button on her blouse and pulled it from her shoulders.

      He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had affected him in such a way. If one ever had. But then, he had never been in a situation quite like this. His partner had never looked at him with lust and rage burning from her eyes all at the same time. She’d never looked quite like she wanted to strangle him and have her way with him in the same moment.

      And, he had never been with Elle.

      “I didn’t realize you were a dirty talker, Elle.” He scraped the edge of her ear with his teeth. “If you had been negotiating this way all along you might have been a lot more successful.”

      “You’re a bastard,” she bit out, turning her head and tracing the line of his jaw with the edge of her tongue. “A complete and utter—”

      “And you want me,” he said, releasing his hold on her and drawing his face back, pressing the tip of his nose against hers and meeting her fierce gaze. “So what does that say about you?”

      “Oh, I know that all of this is the final nail in the coffin of my decency.” She grabbed the end of his belt buckle and yanked it through the loops, then set about working on the closure of his slacks.

      “Go out with style, I say.” He slid his hands down her slender waist, to the full curve of her hip, and down farther, gripping the hem of her skirt and shoving it up roughly over her hips. No surprise, her panties were the same red lace as the bra.

      Not that he was complaining.

      “I took you for a white cotton kind of girl,” he said. “Who knew that you had so many secrets?”

      “You’re never going to know my secrets, Apollo,” she said.

      “So venomous,” he said, his lips touching hers now as he spoke the words. “And yet, you’re dying to have me.”

      She put her hand between them, pressing her palm against his hardened arousal. “Same goes.”

      “I’m tired of talking.”

      And then, he crushed his mouth to hers, claiming the kiss he should have taken years ago.

      * * *

      Elle had no idea what she was thinking. She wasn’t thinking. She was feeling. Feeling everything. Rage, need, arousal like she had never known existed.

      She would like to be confused about this. About how this could happen. About how she could be doing this with a man she hated so very much. But lust and anger had always been twisted up together where Apollo was concerned. Well, maybe not always. But in the past few years. And that was when her desire for him had turned from a girlish crush into a woman’s need.

      She wasn’t sixteen anymore. She knew what men and women did in the dark. She didn’t need her own hands-on experience to be aware.

      But somewhere, during all of that, Apollo had gone from being someone she trusted and admired—a member of the St. James family—to their bitterest enemy. And somewhere, as that change had taken place, her desire for him had changed, as well.

      And now it was this strange, twisted thing that she couldn’t begin to untangle. And there was no other man who made her feel anything near what he made her feel.

      It didn’t matter that it was sick. It didn’t matter that it was wrong. What Apollo made her feel was pure adrenaline. Pure excitement. Even if it wasn’t all good.

      He made every other man she had ever gone out with seem like a bland, beige substitute.

      That was why this was happening. Really, it was why it needed to happen. When this was over, she would finally be cleansed.

      Her need for him would go down in one fiery ball of pleasure and rage. And when she looked at him she would feel...nothing.

      Oh, she wanted that more than anything.

      She kissed him back with all of that. All of the anger, all of the lust. His tongue swept against hers, his hold on her hips firm, blunt fingertips digging into her skin. Then he shifted his position, putting his hands between her thighs, СКАЧАТЬ