“Open your legs.”
I do, or as much as I can in my skirt. The material bunches up, allowing me to part my thighs. But apparently, it’s not good enough for César because he pushes my skirt up, spreading my legs wide and exposing my thong.
“Already wet for me.”
That’s an understatement. I’m drenched for him.
And then César, my boss, lowers himself to his knees. The image of this mighty billionaire lawyer on his knees for me will forever be ingrained in my head. I feel powerful, sexy, and desired, something I’ve rarely felt with previous men.
César will be my undoing.
He braces his hands on my thighs, keeping me spread as if I would suddenly close my legs and change my mind. I won’t. I’m far too gone for that. He leans in closer, his nose swiping along the apex of my thighs. I shudder, and I think he does, too.
César inhales a deep breath. “Fucking perfect,” he murmurs.
Trailing his hands up my thighs, he hooks his thumbs through the top of my thong, tugging it down. I have to wiggle and help him get them off, but soon, they are around my ankles. I expect him to toss it to the floor, but instead, he folds them and places them in his suit pocket. I raise my brow, but he only smirks. “These are mine now.”
Okay, then.
“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to taste you, Lety. How much you’ve tormented me…”
A shudder sends warmth through my body. “Then do it.”
César wastes no time. Like a viper, he strikes. His mouth finds my core, licking me from front to back.
“César!” I gasp, and all concept of being quiet thrown out the window.
This man takes no mercy on me, and I wouldn’t have it if he did. He finds my clit, taking the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth. Fingers notch at my entrance before I feel the pressure of two of them pushing inside of me.
It’s a lot. All at once.
And yet I crave more. He’s made me a wanton woman with nothing other than his tongue and two fingers. No man should harbor this much power.
César devours me with intent—every flick of his tongue, every curl of his fingers inside me is deliberate, practiced, and sexy. He’s not just going down on me—he’s unraveling me. This is a goddamned spiritual awakening.
My hips writhe beneath his mouth, chasing every pulse of pleasure he drags out of me with maddening precision. I reach down, desperate to touch him, and thread my fingers through his hair. It’s silky and thick, soft enough that I know I’ll crave the feel of it against my palms later—alone in bed, aching, remembering the way he made me fall apart with nothing but his mouth and that sinful determination.
And just like that, a future with César forms in my mind. It’s tentative and fragile, but it’s there. A possibility of what could happen if I allow it.
I ride my boss’s face with wild abandon, chasing a high I haven’t felt in a long time. He lets me use him for my pleasure, speeding up his fingers and sucking my clit harder, like he was born for this moment. Maybe he was. Maybe we both were.
Stars explode behind my vision, and I moan out his name. “César!” I chant his name with reverence as my orgasm rips through me, breaking me apart and putting me together again.
I fear I may never be satisfied by another man. Only him.
César pulls back slowly, his mouth wet, lips glistening with my release. He licks them with lazy satisfaction, a cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, like he knows exactly what kind of mess he’s made of me.
“You’re mine, Lety,” he murmurs, voice rough with possession. “And I’m not going to let you hide from me anymore.”
The words sink into me deeper than his kisses ever could.
“I won’t,” I whisper, my voice still ragged from pleasure. It’s a promise. A hopeful one. A scared one. One I pray I’m strong enough to keep.
My body is boneless, sprawled across his desk. My skin hums, over-sensitive and sated, every inch of me marked by his mouth, his hands, and his hunger. My breath stutters in and out as I blink up at the ceiling, still trying to catch up with what just happened.
Because this wasn’t just him eating my pussy. It wasn’t even just pleasure.
It was a claiming.
