Page 24

His breath catches when I hollow my cheeks.

And when I glance up and see his jaw clenched, his eyes dark and locked on me—I feel it again.

Not just lust.

Possession.

Desperation.

Need.

He comes with a harsh exhale, fingers fisting my hair, his hips stuttering.

I swallow everything.

When I sit back, flushed and breathless, he tucks himself back in like nothing happened. Straightens his cuffs. Adjusts his tie.

Then he looks at me when it's all over, his gaze burning into mine.

"Now it's your turn."

A gasp escapes me.

"Touch yourself."

I can't help it—having him watch me turns me on, makes heat pool between my thighs. My hand slips under the slit of my dress, finding the wetness there.

The car cruises to a stop in front of his apartment building.

"Come for me now."

My body obeys, just like it always has where he's concerned. My back arches, a soft cry escaping my lips as pleasure washes over me.

When it's all over, he helps me fix my dress but doesn't allow me to fix anything else. I follow him out, all eyes on us, and they know exactly what we've been up to.

And the strangest part? I don't even care. Because for the first time in three years, I felt like I belonged to him again.

Even if it's only for show.