Page 15

Matthias

I try to drag my eyes away from my monitor, but it’s impossible.

Margot’s image consumes my screen.

The security feed from Benny’s room takes up the rightmost display, capturing her in all her beauty.

She’s giggling, laughing, playing with that damn dog, and the sound alone pulls a genuine smile from me. She looks so carefree. I want her to be that way with me. I want her to look at me the way she looks at Benny, sweetly, affectionately, and completely open.

Am I seriously fucking jealous of a dog right now?

My jaw tightens.

I recall the feel of her against me this morning. So warm, soft, mine.

If she had kept wiggling another thirty seconds, I would’ve come in my pants like a fucking teenager.

That’s when I decided, I’m going to wake up on top of her every morning. For the rest of our lives .

And then when she got out of bed, drowning in my clothes, bare under them, her pussy pressed against my pants… I was even harder than I was the night before.

She was adorable, scrambling to change the subject, trying to distract me from what we both knew was happening. But the second she bit that plush, fucking perfect bottom lip, I lost it.

That’s my lip.

Mine to bite .

If she had hesitated for one more second, I would’ve had her pinned to the mattress.

I shiver at the thought of everything we could’ve done.

She’s becoming an addiction.

I can’t go minutes without thinking of her. I need her in my sight. Not just to get my fix, but also to keep her safe.

I know no one is after her, but the second the world realizes she’s mine, they’ll try. Enemies of the Syndicate will see her as leverage. A weakness.

They don’t understand.

Margot Peterson isn’t my weakness. She’s my fucking priority.

Mine to keep. Mine to protect. Mine .

As long as she’s with me, nothing touches her.

Which means I need to focus. On anything but her.

I drag my gaze back to my work, scanning the same paragraph I’ve been trying to read for the past half-hour. It’s a document on our new prototype. Bash’s project. I should be interested.

I’m not.

I try again. First sentence.

Before I even register a word, my eyes flick back to the right monitor .

Margot’s losing a tug-a-war battle with Benny, her tiny frame no match for a dog his size. I smirk. She doesn’t stand a chance. What’s the biggest dog she could take? A toy poodle?

I laugh, shaking my head.

My girl is not built for combat.

Not with those soft curves. That full, plush body.

Her belly. Her thighs. Her heavy tits. Her juicy, round ass.

All of it jiggling while I pound into her, her breath hitching, panting for me.

Begging.

A shiver rolls through me. My cock twitches.

PING!

The email notification jerks me back to reality.

Jesus Christ. This is getting ridiculous.

I hover the mouse over the camera feed tab close button, then hesitate. I minimize the window instead. At least this way, she’s still there.

I go back to the document and continue onward.

I pick up my phone to play music. Maybe some background noise will help. Anything to keep me from spiraling into thoughts of Margot.

The screen lights up.

I freeze.

‘The Line of Want and Need.’

The audiobook. Narrated by Margot Peterson.

This is stupid. Ridiculous. What am I even doing?

I start it from the beginning and hit play.

“Chapter One.”

Her voice fills the room. Smooth, sweet, and tempting.

If I listen to the book, I can focus. I can work. Right?

Bullshit.

** *

The next time I glance out my office window, the sun has set.

Shit .

I hope I didn’t miss dinner. I want to eat with Margot. Help her settle in. Wear down those defenses.

I check my phone.

Chapter Twenty-Six.

I’m hours into the book. I got too wrapped up. I’m not a romance guy. Hell, I can’t remember the last time I read something that wasn’t for self-improvement. Probably in high school.

But Margot’s voice?

I could listen to her forever.

And I intend to.

I haven’t gotten to another naughty scene, which is probably for the best. I wouldn’t have been able to focus. Not when the sound of her voice alone has me hard.

My stomach growls loud enough to echo.

I call Dotty.

“I’ll be having dinner with Margot tonight.”

She lights up. She tells me how wonderful Margot is. How she fits in perfectly. How she adores her. How I should keep her.

Oh, I intend to.

I listen, pretending I don’t already know Margot’s every move of the day. No one needs to know how much she means to me. I don’t even understand the hold she has on me.

Dotty rambles on. I skim Margot’s file, soaking in every detail, committing everything to memory .

Then, business.

“Have Margot in the dining room in an hour and a half.”

That gives me just enough time to workout and shower, as long as I don’t idle.

I stand, eager.

Eager to see my girl.