Theo’s eyesflare as the words roll off my tongue before I can stop them. He looks a little surprised, but not upset. He must like me calling himsir. His large hands wrap around my waist, pulling me off of his lap and guiding me to stand before him. He remains in his chair, elegantly crosses one leg, and rests his elbow against his knee. He rubs the edge of his jaw and arches one of his dark brows.
“Close the door.”
Need travels down my spine at his deep timbre, and I do what he says. We’re the only ones in his home tonight, but the action gives our little scene an extra level of heat with the entendre that we’re doing something we shouldn’t.
As soon as the door is closed, Theo pushes himself away from his desk and stands. He walks around the frame of his workspace and leans against the front edge, crossing his arms over his chest.
I’m still standing by the door, my hands behind my back now as I wait for what he’s going to say next. We seem to be eying each other intently. The room is so quiet I can hear himbreathing from all the way across the room. He looks calm and steady—like a man in control. It does things to me that I never thought were possible, and I feel the center of my thighs flare to life.
My body thrums with anticipation. I want him to ask me to come to him. I want him to take me in his arms and tell me that he wants me just as badly as I want him. I want him to bend me over this desk and have his wicked way with me.
It doesn’t seem to matter that we’re in his office at home rather than at Nexus. I still seem to get off on this dynamic—even if it’s wrong—and I don’t know if I’ll ever get sick of it.
We stay like that, on opposite sides of the room, the only noise the sound of our breathing and my blood rushing through my ears.
Slowly, like an animal stalking its prey, Theo begins to walk toward me. Every step he takes sets me further on edge in the best way. I’m hyper-aware of where he is in relation to me. The hair on my arms raises once he steps into my space, and I tilt my head up, my lips parting with a gasp when I catch sight of his eyes.
His pupils are blown wide, desire written all over his expression.
He’s staring at me again in that way that makes me feel seen, coveted, craved.
It’s a feeling I don’t ever want to end.
I want him to kiss me, to close the distance between us and ravage my mouth, staking his claim. But he doesn’t.
“Theo,” I gasp his name in surprise when he falls to his knees in front of me.
He looks up at me from under his dark lashes and gives me a wicked grin. His fingers trail up the spanse of my leg, sliding over the smooth skin of my thigh until he reaches the hem of my skirt. “Yeah, baby?”
Those fingers dip under my skirt, and my mind swirls. Leaning my head back, I cover my mouth with my hand so my moan doesn’t echo throughout the whole house—which is a ridiculous notion, given that we’re the only ones here.
Theo catches onto that fact and reaches one hand up to grab my forearm. When I look down at him in question, he gives me a sinful grin. “Don’t hold back; I want to hear every moan from those pretty lips.”
Wasting no more time, Theo removes any potential barrier between him and my center. When I’m bare to him, his hand trails up the curve of my calf and lifts the leg, hooking it over his shoulder and spreading me wide for his pleasure.
I can’t find it inside of me to be embarrassed by the compromising position he has me in. He doesn’t give me a chance before he’s diving in and licking me from the bottom of my slit to the top, paying special attention to the small bundle of nerves at the top of my sex.
He continues on this way until my legs are trembling, and my hands are clenched so tightly I suspect I’ll see nail marks on my palms. Theo draws me higher and higher up the ladder of pleasure until I’m not sure I can hold on any longer.
With my hands threaded in my hair, his eyes watch my every move, gauging where I’m at and adjusting his speed or his pressure accordingly.
Finally, I’m ready to explode when he removes himself from my pussy. I look down at him in frustration, and my breath hitches. The sight of him on his knees before me makes me feel powerful and cherished.
“Okay, Whitney, I’m going to count you down from three,” Theo says before flattening his tongue over my center. “Down from three, and then you’re going to come all over my face, do you understand?”
I whimper in response to what he’s suggesting. He smiles and then resumes his delicious torture.
“Three.”
His tongue enters me and swirls around, sending white-hot sparks of desire down to my toes.
“Two.”
With his tongue still performing its dirty task, he raises one hand and circles my clit with his fingers until my knees start to shake. I lean heavily against the wall to hold myself up.
“One.”
Simultaneously, he thrusts his tongue inside of me and pinches my clit. I see stars as I plummet over the edge of my climax. Theo doesn’t stop, continuing to run his tongue over and through my folds, lapping up every bit of my release.
