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“After six o’clock, all of that shit ends and what’s between us is between us.” I stare into his eyes, barely breathing as he continues. “I’ll say it again; all you have to do is say you’ve left something outside of this office.” His eyes search mine and I believe him. If I were to say it, he’d back away. He’d let me leave. And then what? Would this tension be gone? Would he pretend it didn’t exist?
The reality of what’s happening and the consequences of the decision I’m about to make are far too real in these few seconds.
With his eyes on my lips, his thumb moves there, parting them slowly so that just the tip of his thumb presses down, enticing me to suck it. He’s far too close, far too intoxicating, far too tempting.
“Have you left something outside?” he questions. That deep voice rolls through me again. I know what’s appropriate in this situation. I should jerk my head back from his touch and tell him that I did leave something outside. Mention the HR complaint I’m filing against him. That’s what you’re supposed to do when an asshole like Adrian backs you up against his desk.
It’s what I should do. I know it. And yet … I know damn well that I want him. I want this.
The aching need between my thighs reassures me that I fuckingneedthis.
Instead of answering, I move my mouth just enough to bite down on his thumb, my teeth sinking into the tip of it. The deep groan at the back of his throat is stifled and with that little movement, I force this rather dominating man to shift in front of me. “I’ll need you to answer me, Ms. Parks. Because if youhaven’t left anything outside, I’m going to fuck you against this desk like I wanted to the second I laid eyes on you.”
It’s a heady feeling to bring a man like him to the point of desperation. The desire ignites in his eyes and I push him just a little further, flicking my tongue against his thumb.
His eyes close and he speaks without opening them. “Have you left something outside?”
It seems simple,in a way. He was right when he said I was in need. And letting this man do whatever he wants to me would soothe an ache I’ve had for days. A pent-up need that’s been dying to be sated. It would be everything I’ve needed since I gave my ex the finger and fell down the black hole of an endless to-do list.
Of course it would. Look at him, in his expensive suit with his thumb still tracing a path on my lip and his eyes shut. He’s hot. He’s more than hot. He’s everything I could possibly want in a man. Physically, at least. It doesn’t matter that he’s an arrogant asshole. I can still hate him as much as I did when I first stormed in here, but right now … I’m worked up and hot for him.
When his eyes finally open and he stares back at me with an intensity that burns inside of me just the same, I barely speak, “I didn’t leave anything outside.”
Before the last word is spoken, his lips are on mine, devouring them. Both hands cup my face, pulling me in and my hands splay against his broad chest. He’s all man beneath the suit. Strong muscles bulge and tense.
The layers of fabric between us are in the way and I do my part to help strip them off. Adrian isn’t hesitant about a damn thing. His hands roam, his lips mold against mine and withevery small movement I make, he meets it tenfold. I don’t think a man like him is capable of being timid about anything. He puts his tongue in my mouth, glides it against mine, and seems to taste me more deeply than any man ever has before. Wanting more and forcing small sounds from me as his hands roam and the zipper is pulled down my back. The chill of the air greets my bare skin and I have to break the kiss, breathing in the cool air as I arch my neck and throw my head back. Adrian doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause for anything. His nimble fingers work my dress, sending goosebumps down my skin where his fingertips leave traces of his heated touch.
As I stare up at the ceiling, he leaves a trail of openmouthed kisses down my neck. Hot and greedy, it’s enough to pull me back to him.
To rid myself of any thoughts other than those drenched in lust.
Scorching desire prickles over my skin and I find myself kissing him back, maybe a little desperately. Shamefully so. I’ve always wanted to be kissed like this. It’s every girl’s dream to be kissed like the other person can’t get enough of you. It’s only fair if I kiss him back just as hard and make him think I want this. Adrian can think whatever he wants about me. He can think I hate him. He can think I’m melting for him.
If I’m going to do this, I’m going to take as much as I give.
All I care about is the way it’s going to feel when he takes control of all the heat between my legs. Will he kiss me there too? Will he be just as ravenous as he is now?
He kisses me harder, demanding more with a rumble from deep in his chest when he puts his hand on one of my legs and slides it slowly up under my dress. There’s no hesitation at all with this movement. He got all he wanted from me when I told him I wasn’t leaving. Now I’m his to take.
He pauses there before breaking our kiss and letting me breathe, his hand gripping my upper thigh. It’s only then that I feel his cock pressed against my leg. He’s hard and I wasn’t mistaken earlier … no wonder he’s so fucking arrogant.
I shiver when he reaches my panties. They’re not full coverage ones, because those don’t sit well underneath my work clothes, but they’re not a thong, either. His fingertips play at the band. Then he cups me through the cotton fabric and I moan into the kiss.
“You’re hot for me,” he says into my mouth. “I knew you would be the second you started to mouth off to me.” Adrian strokes against the fabric and when his knuckles brush against my clit I’m all too aware of how sensitive I am for him. My head lolls to the side and I sink my teeth into the fabric of his shirt. My hands fist his dress shirt, pulling it from his suit pants with a desperate need for it to be ripped from him so we can get on with it.
“Good girl. Such a good little slut for me.” My back arches and I rock myself into his hand. “Fuck you,” I mutter but even as I do, the pleasure builds and Adrian chuckles. He’s playing me like a toy.
The words make me hot even though I know they shouldn’t. I roll my hips against his hand and he groans a deep rough sound, wrapping his other hand around the nape of my neck to pull me in close.
“Do you want to be my whore or my good girl?” he asks me.
I can only gasp as his fingers slip past the band and his thumb rubs ruthless circles against my clit. Moaning, I don’t answer him.
“Degradation or praise?” he presses further.
I have both hands on his chest, slid under the expensive fabric of his shirt. “Whatever you want. I just need you inside of me.” The plea is desperate, and I don’t give a fuck.
He doesn’t say a word as he smiles down at me like he’s won. For a half second, I worry he’ll leave me like this, wanting and admitting it so boldly. The fear is gone just as quickly as it came. His hands go under my ass and he roughly lifts me onto the surface of his desk. Adrian uses one hand to push my legs apart and I balance myself on the desk while he shoves the hem of my dress up to my hips. The fabric rolls up in an awkward bunch and remains there. This dress isn’t meant to be treated like that, but he doesn’t care. He’s busy pulling my panties off and down over my shoes, which fall to the floor with dull thuds. Finally, his fingertips meet my bare, wet center.