Chapter 49: Magic Words

"You are going to make me ask you for your help." Naomi asked looking at him like he had lost his mind.

"Yes."

"You cannot do that."

His eyebrows lifted. "You don’t know much about me, but there is one thing I hate to hear. The word ’cannot’ followed by my name."

Naomi’s lips twitched. "You cannot kill me," she teased.

"Don’t be so sure about that. You test me every time you open your mouth."

"I’m not even sure you are kidding right now."

His mouth curved slightly, which did absolutely nothing to reassure her. It was unfair how attractive he looked when he was being vaguely threatening.

Dorian straightened. Then, in one quick movement, he pulled her out of the chair, lifted her and set her on the desk. His hands settled beside her on the desk. He moved forward, nudging her thighs apart with his knee so he could stand between them then he leaned closer. His mouth brushed the side of her neck.

"What are you doing?"

"Making you."

She swallowed as his lips moved slowly along her neck. "You think I’ll get all weak-kneed because you are trying to seduce me?"

His breath warmed her skin. "Convince me otherwise, then."

Naomi opened her mouth to answer, but Dorian chose that exact moment to run his tongue slowly up the side of her neck.

He reached her ear and caught her earlobe between his teeth, biting lightly. "You were saying?" he asked and leaned closer, stopping just short of her lips. "Ask me."

"You really think this is going to work?"

"I think it already is."

Naomi scoffed as he lowered his mouth to her neck again. Her toes curled. "You may not know this but I do have some self control."

"Are you telling me, or are you telling yourself?" Dorian asked. His fingers traced slowly over her chest, following the neckline of her dress. Then he slipped them just inside the fabric and tugged it lower, exposing enough of her breasts for his mouth to follow. He kissed the swell of one breast, then another, taking his time.

"I always wondered why you insisted on the no-sex clause," he murmured against her skin. "I think you don’t trust yourself around me."

"Arrogant much?"

Dorian’s fingers found her nipple through the fabric of her dress and pinched it. The gasp left her before she could stop it. His eyes lifted immediately, and the smug bastard actually smiled. "Shouldn’t I be?"

Glaring became significantly hard for her to do when he rolled her nipple between his fingers again.

"You shouldn’t. I trust myself just fine."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

It would have sounded much more convincing if her voice hadn’t gone slightly breathless.

"Then ask me for my help, Naomi, and this doesn’t have to go any further than this."

Two words.

Help me.

She could say them, he could move away, and they could go back to discussing catering contracts.

Instead, Naomi’s hands remained against his sides.

"Why does it matter to you so much that I do?"

"I have no fucking idea." He lifted his eyes to hers while his palm closed over her breast, kneading slowly enough to make Naomi’s stomach tighten. "There is just something about you I feel inclined to break. I can stop," he said, making the meaning very clear. "You just have to say the magic words."

she watched his mouth. That was mistake number one. Mistake number two was not stopping him when his lips moved lower.

Dorian caught the other nipple through the thin fabric of her dress and flicked his tongue over it. He did it again and again. Slowly.

The material darkened beneath his tongue, clinging to the hard bud underneath, and when Dorian pulled back just enough to look at what he had done, the satisfaction on his face nearly made her shove him off the desk.

"Hmmm..." Naomi fought to keep her breathing steady. "I am not something to be broken."

Dorian lifted his head. That smug smile returned. "Then, Chef Bennett, you do not want me to stop." His mouth crushed against hers, swallowing the small sound she made as he pushed her thighs wider apart and stepped fully between them.

Naomi grabbed his sides. His fingers slipped between her thighs. Her body wanted more. She knew this was going too far.

A part of her didn’t want him to stop at all, so yeah, she didn’t intend asking for his help. Another part of her was screaming danger, danger, danger.

This was not the type of man she needed to fall into bed with again and again. He was going to do things to her head, her heart and her mind that she could not afford.

There were so many things she wanted to say to him, and every single one of them felt far too revealing.

She wanted to tell him that his fingers felt like sweet liquid fire against her skin. She wanted to tell him he smelled like oranges in the rain. She wanted to tell him his lips were impossibly smooth and warm, and that every time he kissed her, she understood a little better why she had apparently thought marrying him in Las Vegas was a fantastic idea.

She couldn’t say any of it. Because then he would know. He would actually know that she liked every single thing he was doing to her.

Goosebumps rose over Naomi’s skin as his hand moved lower between her thighs. She tried to keep her breathing steady, but there was really only so much dignity a woman could maintain.

His fingers brushed over her slit through her underwear. That tiny contact sent a pulse through her entire body. His fingers moved over her again. A breathy little moan escaped her mouth anyway. Dorian broke the kiss.

Naomi opened her eyes and found him staring down at her. His gaze was heated, darker than it had been only moments before, and the way he looked at her.... heavens!

He stroked once more over the fabric and then glanced down. Her underwear was completely wet.

Any argument she might have made about self-control had officially packed its bags. He looked back at her.

"Is this for me?"