Together, they were explosive as fuck, a dangerous combination.
“Hmmm…” His cock was aching, thick and swollen. Every time he thought about the lovely Sophia, he had the same craving. What was he going to do about the agent? He had work to do, a tight schedule to fill, and other requirements that would take him in another direction within a few short days. He rubbed his hand against his crotch. She certainly wasn’t going to succumb to his needs or his bed by choice after his disappearance. Or was she?
What was she really about? He sighed, remembering the picture of the Golden Retriever and her almost animated lie regarding owning a bakery. There’d been a part of him that had been serious about leaving his past and working beside her. He was completely disillusioned with the consortium and their demands.
Fuck. He wanted more out of life. The reason for his change in demeanor? One feisty woman.
Were his instincts regarding her on point or was he losing his touch? Shifting in his seat, he eased his drink onto the desk then switched to the internet. He had various methods of finding every detail about her, no matter no insignificant. There was no paper written in college, no picture shared on Facebook that he couldn’t find. He studied her various profiles. The woman was very guarded; almost no information about her private life. Either her accounts had been scrubbed or she was a very private woman. Even FBI agents had a personal life.
However, he would find more.
Growing weary of searching, he moved to one last site, expecting to find nothing worthwhile. When he noticed a string of entries, he inched closer to the computer. While she’d attempted to hide her identity, he was able to connect IP addresses with ease. He was quite surprised at the find, his cock twitching to the point he was forced to adjust his pants.
A freaking blog.
Who the hell actually did that any longer?
He flipped through a couple of pages before accepting the fact the written words actually belonged to her.
“Sweet Sophia. No wonder you don’t get that close to anyone.” The blog was hers. While the concept in general certainly shouldn’t have any effect on her job, the FBI was a conservative group. They wouldn’t take kindly to one of their own openly admitting such kinky desires. As he began reading, her words frank, open, and very personal, he became more intrigued by her. Sophia wrote about her desire to submit, admitting her hunger as the words flowed.
In the selective pieces, her words were poignant, a telling of the woman buried underneath conservative clothing and highly skilled profession. They’d been written just before her time spent with him. Jesus.
He finished his drink by the time he’d read only two entries, refilling and sequestering himself until he’d read that last two months’ worth.
Submission…
The word lingers in my mouth, creating tingles dancing throughout my body.
There’s never been a man who understood my needs, the kind of control that would squelch the rebel inside, a girl bursting at the seams.
The longing has never been shared, not even to a friend.
The shame is relentless, unforgiving in its grasp. I can’t want this, refuse to believe I’m this kind of woman. How could I desire a man to take control, punishing me for even the slightest infraction? It’s unnatural. It’s terrible.
It’s breathtaking.
It’s as if opening up, sharing something so personal would place me in a different light.
So, I remain haunted.
By the time he was finished reading, he was mesmerized. She was conflicted, more so than any woman he’d ever encountered, putting her desires and needs on the backburner.
Because of her career.
Because she’d never accepted her true nature.
He knew exactly how to tame her, controlling the woman he’d become infatuated with. She’d only allowed him to see a small portion of the woman inside, but his instincts had indeed been spot on. There were so many delicate nuances, danger zones that should keep them apart.
Forever.
Damn his life.
Damn his requirements.
Sighing, he envisioned the very first time he’d spanked her, her utter embarrassment, but there’d been so much more. She was the perfect rosebud, merely waiting for the right man.
“Fuck.”
