Talking Dirty with the CEO by Jackie Ashenden Page A

track of what she’d been going to say. It didn’t matter. Right now nothing mattered but the pleasure uncurling inside her. Dark and sweet and wild.
    He bent his head, nipping the sensitive cord at the side of her neck, sending a small, electric thrill right through her. One hand was braced beside her head; the other began to touch her, his thumb circling one aching nipple as she moaned, urging her body closer to his exploring fingers. His movements got faster and Christie’s thought processes ceased to function.
    Someone was moaning, a deep, primal sound, and Christie knew it was coming from her. But she couldn’t have stopped the sounds he brought from her even if her life had depended on it.
    “Yes…” His voice was rough and soft as velvet. “That’s right…I want to know you like it…”
    So she made the sound again, running her hands down the muscular curve of his back. Digging her nails into his skin and hearing him hiss with pleasure in response. She loved the way she affected him as much as he affected her.
    “Minx,” he murmured. “You marking me up?”
    “Yeah.” She struggled to speak. “So what are you going to do about it?”
    “How about this?” He moved his hand down farther between them, down to where they were joined, stroking her, adding another layer of pleasure.
    “Oh, yeah… That works for me.” Christie felt herself being drawn tighter and tighter, a thread being stretched farther and farther. She cried out and, unbelievably, Joseph slowed down. “No,” she gasped, “No…please…don’t stop.” Her legs tightened around his waist as if preventing his escape, her hands gripping his shoulders for dear life.
    He took a shuddering breath. “Do you want it, honey? Shall I end it now?”
    Christie turned her head, seeking and finding his mouth, kissing him passionately, giving him the answer he needed. In response he began to move hard and fast inside her, driving them both toward the edge and then, in a blaze of light, over it.
    She cried out, wild and helpless before the pleasure that engulfed her, hardly noticing when Joseph turned his face into her hair, his groan of release a warm vibration against her neck as it took him as well.
    Afterward, Christie lay panting beneath him. She felt as if she’d been shattered into thousands of pieces and then put back together again, creating something new. Something different.
    Something wonderful.
    …
    Joseph lay on his back, trying to catch his breath. Trying to figure out just what the hell had happened. Because he was pretty sure something had. Something along the lines of Christie St. John blowing his freaking mind.
    Patience had never been his thing, and yet he’d found himself not only having to fight his basic instinct to immediately throw her on the bed and have her hard and fast, but wanting to fight it, too. Wanting to take it slow.
    The vulnerability beneath her defiance as she’d pulled off her T-shirt had touched him on a level he didn’t know he possessed. Had made him aware of the trust she’d placed in him. Made him feel so crazily protective, a feeling he’d never experienced about a lover before.
    What the hell had she done to him?
    He turned his head.
    Christie lay on her stomach, her chin pillowed on her hands, watching him. Glossy russet curls cascaded all over the pale skin of her back, her shoulders, her arms, and he couldn’t resist the urge to touch it, letting the silky strands sift through his fingers.
    She grinned. “Now, about that interview.”
    Joseph laughed. “Seriously?”
    “What? You think I came here just for the sex?”
    “Actually, yeah.”
    “Okay, so maybe I did.”
    Joseph wound a curl around one finger, stroking his thumb back and forward across it. “Of course you did. I’m irresistible.”
    “Wow, smug much?”
    “Hey, I’ve got a gorgeous woman in my bed who’s responsive to my every whim. Smug is only half of it.”
    Even in the darkness of the room, he could see the pink