Silence.
His grip shifts. The hand around my neck starts moving up until it grabs a fistful of my hair. Then, he gives me a hard yank to bring me up until our bodies are pressed together. My hands are behind me, trapped between our bodies.
In this position, I can feel the heat of him everywhere. And then, to my own shock, my hands start to move, seeking a particular point of heat—the same one that’s throbbing between my ass.
The same one that feels rock hard and impossibly large.
He gives my head another pull until I can finally see him from the corner of my eyes. He pulls me tighter, sending his erection digging deeper against my ass and drawing a gasp out of my throat.
And I find that my hands are now pinned uselessly between us.
“Then why haven’t you done it yet?” My voice is barely a whisper.
He inches his hips forward to let me feel the full size of his cock while his other hand finds my waist to pull me closer.
Holy fuck, he’s huge.
Suddenly I become aware of just how little separates him and me, and I wonder if my body can even accommodate his size.
Will he ruin me completely when he fucks me?
When?My mind screams.Just how the fuck did it become “when?”
His breath laves my neck. His fingers around my hips begin to squeeze, and when he speaks, his voice is rough and strained, pouring molten fire from my ear down to my soaked pussy.
“I told you,malyshka.”
The Russian nickname sends a hot trickle of desire spreading in my belly. The sound rolls off his tongue—soft and mocking and deeply intimate.
“Not until you ask me to.”
My eyes roll into the back of my head as another pulse of heat thrums between my legs. I’m aroused. Furious and frustrated andarousedall at once while he manhandles me like he’s not breaking every fucking boundary that should exist between us. Like I’m not about to fucking come like this.
I feel his erection twitch in response when I clench my ass to keep myself in check, and a broken part of me wants to find a way to push him over the edge.
“Is that the real reason you brought me here?” I manage. “So that you can catch me in the act?”
“That’s exactly right, Ms. Farnassi.” He pulls my head down to the side to expose my throat and whispers against the sensitive skin of my neck. “Because if I catch you sneaking around my office again, then it means youwantme to catch you.”
The words knock the air from my lungs. He’s not threatened by me. He’s not even angry—not really. He’splayingwith me. Giving me rope and waiting to see if I hang myself with it.
“And if you don’t catch me?” I hear myself say.
His lips curve against my neck. “Then I guess you won’t get what you want.”
Damn him!
“Let me go,” I demand.
For a heartbeat, I think he’s going to refuse and press harder until I start begging him to hurt me. And I’d be lying if that wasn’t exactly what I would’ve wanted.
But just like when he brought me home last night, he does exactly what I ask him to do.
He steps back, and I grip the desk, not trusting my legs to hold me after what the fuck just happened. Somewhere in the room, the air conditioning has turned on, and chilly air kisses my cheeks. But I don’t feel it.
My skin is hot and tingling, and my breath comes out in ragged, uneven shudders.
I didn’t want him to let me go.
