“It’s the only way I can guarantee you won’t run.” His incredible scent envelops me as he leans one arm against the door and presses a soft, lingering kiss on my lips that ripples through me like an electric current.
“Come here, where I can keep an eye on you.”
My throat tightens as my gaze drops to the thick arousal already tenting his suit pants. He takes my hand, guiding me behind the desk, and sits back, propping me on the edge of his desk, watching me with dark, hooded eyes. The heat in his gaze is a slow burn, simmering just beneath the surface.
I swallow hard, the silence between us stretching tight. “So,” I say, clearing my throat, “why did you want to see me?”
He sighs with mock patience. “You know why, Violet. ”My thighs clench at the wicked promise laced in his words. “I’m starting to think youlikebeing punished.”
His fingers brush the knot of his tie, twisting the silk with slow, deliberate movements.
“Unbutton your blouse, Violet. Now.” The words are soft, but there’s no mistaking the command in them. A shiver prickles down my spine.
My fingers hover over the buttons, hesitating.
His brow lifts. His patience is measured, but fleeting.
I exhale shakily, slipping the first button free. Then the next. The soft fabric parts, sliding from my shoulders, floating to the floor.
His lips part slightly as he watches me, still idly toying with that damn tie. My chest heaves under the weight of his gaze, his stare dragging over my full breasts straining against the silk.
“I need to see all of you, Violet.”
The demand is quiet, but it leaves no room for misunderstanding. He hooks a finger beneath my bra strap, his lips curling in distaste, as if the silk offends him.
My breath catches as I reach back and unclasp it. My breasts spill free, heavy, tingling under his scrutiny. A sharp breath hisses from between his teeth. For a moment, his mask of control slips.
His focus drops to my skirt. He stands, peeling it off like a candy wrapper, eager to expose the sweetness of my white lace panties beneath.
Warm palms caress my thighs, parting them.
“Touch yourself.” His voice scrapes my ear, deep and possessive. “Show me how ready you are.”
The way he dominates me—stripping me of my inhibitions—is intoxicating. How he knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. My fingers slip beneath the lace, gliding over my swollen, slick flesh. A gentle mewl escapes as I spread the wetness, my body already trembling. His jaw tightens as his hand joins mine, guiding, teasing.
He sweeps his tongue over my mouth, his voice a warm rasp between my lips. “See how fucking perfect you feel, Violet.”
A moan slips out, my hips rocking forward, seeking more, until I’m writhing on his desk, lost in the sensations.
His mouth crashes over mine again, rough with longing. “Now take off your panties. I want to taste you.”
A shuddering breath leaves me as I slide them down, my body thrumming with need. The moment they’re gone, his expression darkens. A slow, knowing smile tugs at his lips.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, reaching for his phone—reconnecting to the forgotten call.
The speakerphone clicks back on.
My stomach plummets.
His finger presses against his lips, a silent warning to keep quiet.
I part my lips to protest, but he beats me to it, brushing the same finger across them, pressing his finger into my mouth. A challenge sparks in his gaze.
He has me cornered.
I can’t make a sound; otherwise, the whole senior executive team will hear.
“Can you run that past me again, Fergus?” Chase’s tone is infuriatingly calm—casual, as if he isn’t blowing cool air over my nipple before nipping it gently.
