“You are a devil woman,” he bit out, his hips starting to move in time with her hand.
It had been far too long since he’d felt release, since he’d unleashed his primal side- but this was nothing like he was used to. He was in control. He wasalwaysin control…until now.
“I thought you were the devil?” She murmured back, completely unfazed by his insult.
The orgasmic cry from the woman before them had Tristan opening his eyes again, and he watched as his pleasure drewtowards the precipice of release as the woman drew the man up by his hair and pressed him into the mattress. Her eyes, Tristan knew, found Ophelia’s once again as she straddled the man’s hip backwards, drew his erection from his trousers, and began riding him.
A low groan poured from the man’s lips as his head arched back into the pillows, and suddenly Tristan understood. He had been wrong. The man was not in control. He only thought he was.
Ophelia’s hand began to stroke Tristan’s erection in time with each thrust of the woman’s hips, and everything Tristan thought he knew about power dissolved. He gave in to his lust, to the feel of Ophelia’s hand; to the dominant nature she had so very cleverly subverted over him.
“I like these liberties,” she murmured into his ear. He groaned as she then nipped and suckled at his lobe; just as he had done with her only moments ago in his office. “I like what you have shown me. I am learning so much.”
Tristan could not respond. As the woman rode the man faster Ophelia stroke his cock faster, the two of them keeping pace with one another. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his dominance roared in anger and promised retribution.
“I have read what happens to men when he releases,” Ophelia whispered on, “I never thought I would care to feel such a thing until now.”
“Ophelia…” he was barely able to breathe out her name; so close to his orgasm.
“I want to feel yours, though” she brazenly whispered. “I want to feel you seed in my hand.”
That dominant part of him roared louder, closer to the surface.
“This is not what I had in mind,” he grit out, torn between taking control and having his much needed release.
“No?” Ophelia asked, stroking him faster now, “I find this very inspiring all the same. I think I should actually like to paint this.”
She was teasing him, finding it humorous that she literally had him in the palm of his hand.
“You, pressed so tightly to a doorway, being brought to your wits end,” she whispered, “What do you think?”
Tristan’s breath grew sharper and quicker as his release drew to the surface at time as the man being ridden.
“I think when I get you back to my office,” Tristan forced out as he approached that proverbial edge of bliss, “I am going to punish you for this.”
Ophelia’s hand squeezed tighter, milking his rigid cock in one more, strong, powerful stroke, and Tristan felt himself tumbleover that edge. His eyes snapped shut as his head dropped and his mouth opened, letting out a silent scream as his tips of his short nails dug into the doorframe. Every ounce of tension that he had been walking around with for the past two weeks drained out of his body until his legs felt numb and useless.
“You were right,” Ophelia purred into his ear as she slowed her strokes, sending intense spasms of pleasure through his post-release bliss, “Takingyourcontrol? This was wonderful inspiration.”
Tristan eyes snapped open as that beast inside him roared to the surface. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her drenched hand from his trousers, and spun her around; slamming her back into the door jam.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he warned.
Ophelia’s grin was purely wicked.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“You wanted me to find inspiration,” Ophelia purred, “Consider it found.”
Power surged through Ophelia’s veins as she watched Tristan’s expression shift from rage to need to confusion- to even admiration. It was obvious he had not expected her to turn the tables on him and in truth, she had not expected to do so either. Yet as she watched the couple before them- watched how lust and satisfaction took over the woman’s face as her counterpart had worshipped her body before sinking to his knees; something had overcome Ophelia.
Something primal. Feral. Something that made her question her previous belief that only men could have the power in those intimate moments. So when Tristan so cockily guided her hand to his trousers, she made a bold move, and simmered in the satisfaction of making a man like Tristan melt in the palm of her hand.
“My office.” Tristan grit out.“Now.”
Ophelia took another glance at the woman on the bed, and she winked at her from the sated arms of her partner. Feeling emboldened, Ophelia winked back before she turned around and slowly made her way back to Tristan’s office.
She didn’t have to turn around or look over her shoulder to know that Tristan was following right behind her. She could feel the heating rolling off of him in waves, ebbing into her and feeding her own lust.
