“But we should stop,” he said. Only, he sounded a little hypnotized and he was still watching her with burning blue eyes. “We should really, probably stop. For the sake of professionalism, if nothing else.”

“No, thank you,” Eve said. “Here, let me get rid of my bra.”

He released an agonized sound and fell back against the cushions. “I’m going to have to take my glasses off, aren’t I?”

“And why’s that?” she asked, wriggling frantically out of her T-shirt and fumbling with her bra clasp. Jacob appeared outright inebriated with lust right now, his pupils blown and his cock a solid column beneath his jeans—but God only knew when he’d find his usual sternness and really put a stop to this. She wanted as much pleasure as possible before he came over all sensible again.

“Because,” he said, removing his glasses carefully as he spoke, “if I kept them on while I buried my face in your tits, I’d probably bend the frames.”

“Oh,” she said faintly, collapsing under the weight of her enthusiasm. “Gosh. Okay. Off with the glasses, then.”

“Mmm.” He put them on a nearby table, then turned and grabbed her hip. His hand was strong as steel, almost as if he was pinning her in place so he could lower his head and stare at her body the same way he stared at everything: with unnerving focus and obvious intent. He exhaled, hard and sharp, as his gaze moved worshipfully over her curves. Then he pressed his face against her belly and grazed his teeth over her flesh.

“Oh,” she gasped, the sensation shooting straight to her clit.

He licked the spot he’d bitten before moving upward. “Sorry. You look like you taste good.”

“And do I?”

His gaze flicked up to meet hers, his voice a low growl. “Eve. You must know that you do.” And then his inexorable examination continued. His hand slid up, up, up the length of her body, until he was cupping her bare breast, his thumb sweeping over the peaked nipple.

A whimper fell from Eve’s lips as she arched against the pillows, her thighs spreading automatically, the space between her legs feeling hollow and hungry and aching for—something. Pressure. Pleasure. Him.

Jacob drew her nipple into his mouth and sucked hard for one torturous moment before licking softly, softly. The contrast set a series of tiny fires across her body, from the pit of her stomach to the bud of her clit to the place just beneath her breastbone.

“You never told me,” he said, “if it vibrates.”

For a moment, she was so dizzy with sensation she barely knew what he was talking about. But then she remembered Jacob holding up her sex toy, studying it with those all-seeing eyes and asking careful, clinical questions. She squirmed, breathless, and found herself wrapping a leg around the length of his body, as if she could pull him between her thighs.

“I—it—does vibrate,” she said, “but I never turn it on because I don’t want you to hear.”