Page 5 of Deadly Obsession

“Coat them good, Sage.”

Once they’re soaked, he moves them to my asshole. A fingertip traces down my crack until it presses against my puckered hole.

“Yes,” I whisper, bucking into the touch.

He releases my nipple. “How tight is this little hole? Have you ever taken anyone here before?”

“All the time.”

“Don’t lie to me, Sage.”

Sage. I kind of miss Reine already.

I growl, frustrated and in need of release.

“Just put your finger inside my asshole already, Elias.”

And he does.

Orgasmnumber three.

After railing me in his office for over an hour, Elias is summoned away for club business. Or maybe he left to take care of the man who touched me. Elias insinuated that he was going to kill the dude. Does that mean I’m an accessory to murder? Yeah... I’m trying not to think about that.

He ordered me to get dressed and wait for him.

I can’t wait, though.

I can’t stay.

I’m not ready to get into another relationship, and Elias is giving me relationship energy.

Not to mention that I’ve never had a man fuck me so passionately... so... thoroughly. Staying here and spending the rest of the night with him would spoil me. I’d never want to leave. I’d ruin it by falling too fast, too hard. The last time I let myself fall for a man, I married him, and he turned out to be a horrible person who did a lot of shitty things.

I shouldn’t have fucked Elias.

I definitely shouldn’t have let him give me five orgasms.

Elias.

No last name.

Since the man ripped my dress to shreds, I grab his suit jacket from the chair in front of his desk and thank whatever sex god is looking over me because it fits me more like a dress.

A very short dress, but at least my ass is covered.

I find my panties on the ground and slip those on, then use the shredded dress as a belt.

My clutch is in another chair in front of Elias’s desk. I grab it, open it, and pull out a ballpoint pen. I find a piece of paper on his desk, write out a note, kiss the paper, then leave the pen on top.

My heart is racing when I crack the door open and peer outside.

It’s not like I’m a prisoner. I can leave. But the demand in his voice when he told me to stay put tells me he’s going to be pissed when he finds out I’m gone.

I hate to do this to him. It’s my fault for letting him kiss me. Letting him fuck me. Letting him give me hope that there are good men out there.

Is he a good man if he vowed to ‘take care of’ the asshole who groped me?

Eh. Tomato, tomato.