I moan, rocking my hips in slow, grinding circles.
“That’s it,” he mutters against my skin. “Ride me. Make it filthy.”
I do. I grind on him slow and deep, each thrust hitting right where I need it. His mouth moves to the other nipple, sucking hard, then biting just enough to make me whimper.
“You like being used, don’t you?” he growls. “Chasing an older man, letting him fuck you raw.”
“Yes,” I pant. “God, yes.”
He grabs my ass and bounces me harder on his cock. “Then take it, needy little slut.”
My head falls back. My moans echo off the walls. I ride him until I come again, shaking in his lap, clinging to him like I’m drowning. His fingers dig into my flesh as he finishes inside me once again.
I’m still on his lap by the time I come down from the high of my orgasm, breathing hard, my thighs trembling on either side of him. His cock’s still buried inside me, softening, but he doesn’t touch me. Doesn’t kiss me. Doesn’t say a word.
Just silence.
And then he exhales once. Sharp. Final. His hands drop from my hips.
I start to move, but he grabs the lapel of his suit jacket over the back of the chair. Without a word, he yanks it off and throws it around my shoulders. Not gently. Not lovingly. Just…done.
“Cover yourself,” he mutters. “You’re not walking out of here looking like that.”
I blink. My dress is in shreds. My body’s wrecked. His cum is still leaking out of me.
“Nicolo—”
“Don’t.” His voice is detached.
I freeze.
He doesn’t meet my eyes as I climb off his lap. Instead, he just reaches for a glass, pours himself something, and downs it in one swallow.
Then he finally looks at me—cold, hard, unreadable.
“You want to provoke me again, Mara?” he says, voice like ice. “I need you to understand that you won’t get what you think you will.”
My stomach twists.
“Iwillbreak you.” He nods toward the door. “Get out.”
28
NICOLO
The office reeks of sweat and sex. My shirt is still sticking to my back, half-buttoned, collar damp where she clung to me.
I should’ve showered. Should’ve burned the damn clothes. But instead, I’ve been sitting here in the dark, drink in hand, convincing myself of the one truth I need to believe.
It was just sex. Nothing more.Nevermore.
One mistake. One weakness I won’t repeat.
My knuckles tap against the crystal glass, steady despite the storm crawling under my skin. I down another mouthful, the liquor burning its way down, but it doesn’t scorch her out of me. I can still feel the weight of her, how she fit against me so damn well—the way she shook apart around my cock, the way her mouth went slack under my hand, the way she looked at me like I was both the punishment and the salvation she craves.
I slam the glass down harder than I mean to. Amber spills across the desk, running in thin rivulets between stacks of papers, soaking the corner of a plan I should be focused on.
My jaw tightens. This isn’t who I am. I don’t lose control. I don’t let anyone own a piece of me, not even for a second. But that’s exactly what happened.
