Page 45 of Reckless Dynasty (Knight's Ridge Empire 9)

This is it. I have no doubt.

My eyes drop to the small padlock that’s hanging around her neck. The little key that rests against my chest burns as if it’s red hot, knowing that I hold the only way for her to remove it, and my dick hardens once more.

Noticing where my attention has gone, she places her knife and fork down on her now empty plate and slides the whole thing back. She reaches for her necklace, twisting the little lock between her fingers as she looks at me from beneath her lashes.

Heat surges through my body, need tugging at my muscles, but nowhere is more insistent than my aching cock.

“Tell me what you need,” she says, her voice low and sending a shockwave of desire right through me.

It takes me a second to fight my way through the fog of desire that clouds my brain before I can force some words out.

“Get on your hands and knees and crawl under the table. I need your lips wrapped around my cock.”

Her pupils dilate at my words as her hand drops from the padlock.

“Yes, Boss,” she purrs, pushing her chair out behind her and sinking to her knees, disappearing from my sight.

Fuck, yes.

The anticipation only grows as the table becomes a barrier between us. My heart pounds, knowing she could be about to touch me at any moment, and the heavy beat of it soon becomes the only thing I can hear as I wait.

My skin prickles with awareness, my cock twitching with need.

I know she’s teasing me, and it fucking kills me.

My fingers wrap around the base of the chair until they begin to hurt.

“Demon,” I growl, my desperation evident in my tone.

A soft chuckle comes from beneath the table, and my teeth grind with the need to reach out and find her.

But I don’t.

I force myself to wait and see what she’s going to do.

It feels like a fucking eternity, but when she finally does touch me, I damn near jump out of my chair.

The graze of her finger against the top of my foot is innocent, but fuck if it doesn’t have precum leaking from my cock.

“Jodie,” I grit out as her fingers begin walking up my leg.

“Patience,” she breathes, turning up my inner thigh, making every single muscle in my body lock up.

“Holy shit,” I gasp when her fingers gently brush my dick.

It’s pathetic. It’s like I’m a twelve-year-old pre-teen who’s never had his cock touched before.

Her amused chuckle hits my ears again, and my grip on the chair only tightens.

She shuffles between my legs, letting me know that she’s close enough to reach out and touch, to control. That knowledge does little for my quest to hold myself back.

I flinch again when she trails her fingers along the skin just above the waistband of my sweats.

“Jesus,” I hiss between clenched teeth, but my torture only gets worse a few seconds later when something, her nose, maybe, runs up the length of my cock.

“So hard for me, bad boy,” she groans as if her teasing is as painful for her as it is for me.

“I’m always fucking hard for you, baby.”