“Now,” I murmur, sinking back into the chair across from him, crossing my legs like a queen on her throne. “Show me how you plead without words.”
His throat works. One hand wraps around himself, stroking slow, cautious, the other still fisted at his side. His eyes flick up, wide and pleading.
“That’s it,” I purr, resting my chin on my palm as I watch. “You come when I say. Not before. Not after.”
I let him writhe on the edge, his breath breaking in little gasps, until the sight bores me.
“Now,” I order.
The release tears out of him, frantic and ugly, spilling across his stomach as he groans through gritted teeth.
I don’t flinch. I only smile, cold and satisfied, because humiliation is the only devotion worth taking.
“Clean yourself up,” I say, smoothing my hair in the glass. The privacy screen holds our outlines like ghosts with better posture. “And delete the security clip under the room’s ID. All of it.”
“Yes, Ms. Kingsley.”
I pause with my hand on the lock and glance back.
“And Julian?” I add, letting his name linger the way I know he likes.
“Yes?”
“Be useful,” I say. “Or be gone.”
The glass clears when I hit the panel. The office still smells like expensive restraint.
I leave without looking back, heels stitching a steady line toward the elevator, already planning the next move.
Tomorrow, Dorian will come back to his perfect little dream.
But first, I’ll ruin hers.
Chapter 18
TEMPORARY ETERNITY
Some eternities are measured in moments of bliss
Della
The fire snaps softly in the fireplace, each flicker of flame chasing shadows across the stone walls. I draw my knees up and hug them beneath the bathrobe, letting the warmth seep into skin still a little wet from the shower.
I close my eyes. The silk clings to my body like a whisper. The coolness of the fabric on my heated skin reminds me of the way he touched me just minutes ago. The heat rushes to my cheeks—and it sure isn’t from the fire.
I open my eyes, the fire inside me blazing in the look I give him.
“The view is really… incredible.” I say my voice laced with a slow, wicked smile.
He’s over there in the kitchen, arranging a simple platter of cheese, and fruits. Barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers clinging low to his hips. His chest is broad and hard, each muscle shifting as he moves, the deep V of his abdomen drawing my eyes lower until the fabric cuts me off.
“Is it?” He catches my eyes, and I see amusement flickering in his dark eyes, like he knows exactly what I desire. He licks a bit of cheese off his finger, slow as molasses, and his lips curve into a warm, devastating smile that makes my heart ache.
“Well, enjoy it while you can, my love. I’ll zoom in closer in just a few minutes.”
Anticipation rises and makes me blush.
How is this possible? We made love all day and yet my body is still hungry for him.
