Page 79 of For the Plot

“Don’t what?”

“Whatever this is.”

She tilts her head, mock-innocent. “You said you were going to light a cigar.”

I glance at the tray. “Changed my mind.”

“Shame.” She shifts on the desk, lifts one knee up just slightly. “You know, I’ve never watched a man smoke one up close.”

“You need better hobbies.”

She laughs, breathy and low. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like watching you.”

Then her hand moves. Not quickly. Not brazenly. Just a slow, fluid slide down her thigh, to the hem of that black silk skirt. She gathers the fabric between her fingers, pulls it upward inch by inch.

And I stop breathing.

The first thing I see is the curve of her inner thigh. Then soft, bare skin where lace should be. No panties. Nothing. Just her deliciously bare, pink pussy. I don’t know how I manage not to shatter the glass in my hand.

“You’ve been walking around all day like that?” I manage to say.

She hums, dragging the skirt a little higher. “Not all day. Just since the deal closed.”

Her fingers drift between her thighs, light and slow, and I catch the first soft moan when she touches herself, like she didn’t mean to let it out.

My cock throbs behind my zipper.

"Fuck," I mutter.

She dips her fingers again, circling her clit, and this time she breathes out harder. Her knees fall open, wide enough for me to see the slick glint of arousal coating her folds.

It takes everything in me not to growl.

“Skye."

Her eyes flutter open, lashes heavy. “Yes?”

“Stop." Her lips twitch. She doesn’t.

“Make me.”

“You walk in here like this, tease me, and you think I’m the one who’s going to break?” I stand slowly, pressing a palm to the edge of the desk, caging her in. “Do you know how close I am to fucking ruining you?”

Her breath stutters. “I want you to.”

No hesitation. No fear. Just pure unadulterated lust in her eyes as she gazes back at me.

I reach for the cigar. Unlit. Thick. Smooth. Her eyes flick down to it. Her lips part. “You want to play games?” I ask.

She nods once, breathless.

“Then be still.”

I drag the cigar down the inside of her thigh. She gasps, more reaction than sound. I trace it between her legs, pressing it gently against her folds. Her hips twitch forward, chasing it.

“Are you going to fuck me with it?”

I watch the end of the cigar slowly disappear inside her. She’s soaked.