Page 72 of The Prize

“Yes, you’ve got this place straightened out and worked hard. Take a personal day.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wilder.”

We returned to the main exhibit room until Sam was ready to leave. She looked happy about taking time off. She secured the front door behind her on the way out.

“Let me show you the office.” Tobias led me up a winding stairwell and along a hallway, turning off the lights as we went.

The room he led us into reflected his easy style of simple and cozy, with a desk in the center and a computer set up. On the far end sat an in-tray, a penholder and stacks of empty folders. There was a yearly calendar fastened to the back wall to round out the business design.

Tobias locked the door behind us, and then leaned against it and held my gaze. I pretended not to be fazed by the intensity of his stare following my every move as I strolled around the room. I examined a glass paperweight, trying to steady myself against Wilder’s all-consuming presence and that alpha power he exuded.

He reached into his pocket and held up his phone. “Ready?”

I pushed myself up on the edge of the desk. “We’ll first be seen here at your new gallery?”

“Exactly.” His green eyes narrowed on me as though judging how I felt about this. “There’s nothing in here so they can’t do too much damage. It will look real, though. And not staged.”

Was he sure he wanted to bring down hell on us here in this beloved place? A gallery he was working on creating.

Still, I knew there was no other way but forward and I gave him a nod to let him know I was ready.

“Close the blinds.” His order made me jump.

I slid off the desk and walked toward him. “Is this some kind of diversion tactic? Because if it is—”

“Take off your panties. You can either take them off with the blinds open or closed. Your choice.”

“What if Burell’s men get here?”

“We have time.” His thumb pressed the button on his phone.

A jolt of arousal alighted my senses and I knew one more command from him would make me wet and craving him. This was just it. Wilder loved danger and as my gaze fixed on him I knew he’d just turned the app on.

A rush of fear surged through me too and the adrenaline made my nipples bead. “Fine.” I removed my Chanel jacket and threw it onto the back of the swivel chair as I walked toward the window. “If I close these we won’t be able to see them arrive.”

“I won’t ask you again.”

My fingers twisted the pole and the blinds threw the room into darkness.

Keeping my back to him I hitched up my skirt and slid my thong off my hips and down, turning slightly to experience that dark edge of pleasure of having him watching me.

With peril looming, my heartbeat quickened and I fought against the trepidation. Gone was that young girl from London who yearned for safety, and in her place had risen a siren wanting more of this crackling electricity between me andhim, the only one who mattered.

I strolled over to the desk and bent over it with my hands gripping the edge as I offered my butt to him with an arching back and my thighs spread a little; my sex clenching in need for this touch.

First the sound of his footfalls behind me and the feel of my skirt being hitched up to expose me, and then his strong hand squeezed my buttocks—

Slap.

I shot forward at the shock of his palm meeting my flesh and again coming down firmly sending a shock of bliss. “Oh, God.” I inhaled sharply at the stunning realization he was taking my mind off this uncertainty.

He grabbed my hips and dragged me back into position and ran his hand along my cleft. “Nice and wet, Zara, very good. Did you like that?”

“Yes,” I said breathlessly, desperate for him to touch me again.

This was him trying to scare me off, I was sure of it, but instead I felt more defiant than ever.

He spanked me and the jolt of pleasure intensified when his other hand found my sex and he began fingering me and working me into a frenzy. The sting lifted from my heated skin and pleasure flooded into my cheeks. Thighs trembling, hips grinding, muscles clenching, I rode his hand deliciously while letting out a moan of want, desperate for another erotic slap that riled me up and nudged out my good-girl side.