“You’re delicious, Meg.” I pull on my shirt and move back to her, sliding my hands inside her robe to caress her waist.
I can’t help but make eye contact as my hands move up to her breasts. Her nipples are already erect, and she lets out a low moan when I squeeze them. “I want to taste you again.”
The phone rings incessantly. Megan reaches for it, but my hands are already wandering. I bite my lip and bring an index finger to my mouth, a command for silence, as she puts the phone to her ear.
My hand goes straight between her legs, finding her already slick and ready. I start making slow, circular movements over her clitoris. I recognize the voice on the other end; it’s the leader of the Democratic Party.
She says his name twice, trying to stay professional, but I’m focused on her neck, biting softly before I penetrate her with my fingers without warning. Megan curses me silently, taking a jagged breath and grinding against my hand as I move inside her.
The second she hangs up, she swings her hand and delivers a sharp, open-palmed slap to my face. She grabs my hair, forcing me to look at her.
Without a word, I shove her against the nearest wall and start thrusting hard, feeling her nails rake across my back. Megan hooks a leg around my waist, her hand sliding to my throat, scratching me mercilessly.
My movements are fast and precise; hers are desperate for the friction until our mouths collide. She grabs my hair again, a wicked smile spreading as she moans, never breaking eye contact.
“You’re a bitch, moaning like that,” I growl, increasing the pressure. She nods, lost in it. “Whose bitch are you, Your Honor?”
She reaches out and slaps me again. I feel the heat blooming on my cheek, and it only makes me want to drive into her harder. “Tell me, Your Honor. Who’s going to rule this hot pussy?”
I was moaning just as loud as she was. Her nails were definitely drawing blood now.
“You... you, damn it.”
“And what am I to you?” I push deep until she cries out, pulling me closer, begging for more speed.
“My mistress. Mine.”
“And you’re my bitch. Only mine.” I thrust with a violence that’s rough for a second encounter, but she collapses against my hand, licking my neck with raw lust.
We stand there, panting, and I hold my hand out for her to suck the moisture from each of my fingers. Our breathing is jagged. She finally reaches out to straighten my shirt.
“You have to go, right?” she asks.
“Vanessa is around. If you need anything, find her.” I turn the knob, steal one last kiss, and smile. That smile of hers... it completely unbalances me.
I walk out into the suite and find Vanessa pacing while on a call. I sweep her up by the waist, lifting her off her feet and kissing her cheek.
“Yes, Richard, she just walked in. I’m sure she’ll review the proposals as soon as she boards.” Vanessa sighs, running a hand through her hair. She holds my chin and gives me a mocking look. “Right. The board meeting sounds great. Talk soon.”
I roll my eyes. I can't believe she's talking to that asshole this early.
“Don't you dare ruin my mood,” I say, pulling off my shirt as I head toward the bedroom. “What does that prick want?”
“The same thing I want: for you to review the pre-approved projects. As much as I love you, Kels, I’d rather you actually knew what was in these files.”
“I’ll do it on the flight. Did you put a tail on Megan’s ex?”
Vanessa nods, glancing at her phone. “We’re on it. Keep an eye on him. It took me too long to get this woman; I'm not letting her fall back into his trap.”
“Nothing suspicious yet. Men like him don't ask for divorces, Peanut, they play the victim. And right now, he’s playing the role perfectly.”
Vanessa points to my bags. I have one meeting before the jet takes off. “Is this because you're afraid of the snow?” I ask.
“No, this is because a storm is coming and I want you in the air before it hits.”
We say goodbye quickly. Before I even reach the runway, I’m sending a message to Megan, smiling like an idiot because of a redhead whose scent is now burned into my skin.
#19
