Takeover In The Boardroom: An Heiress for His Empire. Fiona Brand

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       CHAPTER EIGHT

      ONE WORD BUT IT was all Maddie needed.

      She sat up and reached back to unzip her dress. It was tricky at the best of times, the top of the zipper hitting her in the center of her back.

      With her hands trembling from need, it was impossible. So frustrated she could almost cry, she struggled to unzip it.

      All the while, she couldn’t pull her eyes from Vik. He’d ripped his Armani sweater off and tossed it on the floor, the black T-shirt he wore under it joining the pile of cashmere a second later.

      His belt made a whoosh as he pulled it out of his trousers and the buckle clunked against the wall when he tossed it. His tailored slacks were next, dropping to reveal a straining bulge behind dark designer briefs.

      “Your body is beautiful,” she breathed in awe.

      Every muscle of his six-foot-four-inch frame was honed. Dark hair covered his chest, narrowing to a trail that disappeared into the waistband of his briefs.

      She didn’t know if it was the dark, clingy fabric or reality, or even her oversensitized emotions, but Vik looked huge.

      Maddie’s thighs clenched even as her fingers itched to touch. And she hadn’t seen the actual package yet.

      Vik looked back, his own expression filled with desire. “You’re still dressed,” he accused.

      “I know,” she said with pure frustration.

      He winked again, the expression just as mind-bogglingly sexy this time as the first. “Need some help there?”

      “Yes.”

      He stalked toward the bed like a big sleek cat, climbing on with the same grace. He reached around her and let his fingers trail down the shallow V of her dress to the top of the zipper. “Is this your problem?”

      “I can’t reach it.”

      “How did you get dressed then?”

      “I wasn’t hampered then.”

      “By what?”

      “What do you think?” she asked, wanting to sound annoyed and only succeeding in revealing the need inside her.

      “Me?”

      “Desire,” she clarified.

      “Desire for me.”

      “Yes,” she admitted, no real reason to pretend otherwise, but annoyed all the same at having to say it out loud.

      “Good.” He lowered the zipper inch by inch. “I like this dress.”

      “I’m never wearing it again.”

      “Please do.”

      “Why?”

      “I have always enjoyed unwrapping my gifts. Just ask my grandparents.”

      “I’m not a Christmas package.”

      “No, you are something far more valuable.” He kissed the corner of her mouth and then brushed her lips with his lightly. “You are the woman who will share my life.”

      “You’re awfully good at romance for a corporate shark.”

      He wasn’t kidding about enjoying the process of unwrapping. Time moved by in increments measured by her rising passion as he took off first her dress, removing it to reveal her body one slow inch at a time. His desire-filled gaze burned her with sensual appreciation.

      The silk foundations she wore under the dress came next, but he took even more time with those than the blue taffeta, kissing bits of her flesh as it was revealed, sensitizing her body in ways she’d no idea he could do.

      When he was done, she was a naked, quivering mass of sexual need.

      And he still had his briefs on.

      She tugged at the waistband, her voice husky with passion when she managed to force the words past the tightness in her throat. “Take them off.”

      “Not yet.”

      “Why?” she demanded, patience in another universe.

      “You are a virgin.”

      “So?” He was going to change that, wasn’t he?

      “So, you need preparation and I’m on a hair trigger where you are concerned.”

      “You have to take your underwear off to make love to me,” she spelled out slowly, like she wasn’t sure he got it.

      He bared his teeth in a smile that had no humor. “And before that happens I will make sure you are ready to receive me.”

      “But—”