His words sting. I could give him a million reasons why I did it, but I don’t. He begged me to believe him; no excuse would fix it.
His fingers make quick work of my top buttons, and he slides his palm over my bra, teasing and gentle to the point where I’m squirming.
“You make me so mad, I can’t think.” His breath comes faster on my neck, and I’m lost in the feeling of his touch when he suddenly pinches my nipple, and I almost yelp, clamping my mouth shut at the last second. “And I still want you.”
“Adam,” I practically plead.
His hand fists in my skirt, pinning me in place. “It always has to be your way.”
There’s a dangerous undertone, like that time in the boathouse, but this dominant side of him never frightens me. It’s the relief of surrender, in the hands of the man I trust to break me in the best possible way.
“I should throw you out of this office,” he whispers into my skin, voice like gravel.
Fingers skim beneath my skirt until they reach the edge of the silk between my legs. A gentle brush of his knuckles against the fabric sends a hot wave low in my belly. I fumble to find purchase on the smooth wood.
“You think you have the right?” Tender kisses trail my jaw until we breathe the same air again. “After everything?”
His words sting because they’re true.
I rest my chin on his shoulder, my insides coiled up. “I just… oh God…”
“You what, Jackie?” He continues his feather-light touch over my panties.
My breath stutters; I feel too warm, too strung out. “I wanted to know what happened…please…” I moan. “Why did she lie…”
“My sweet control freak,” he tuts. “Not in here.” Adam straightens and takes two steps back, leaving me a quivering mess. “On your knees.”
Oh.
My body obeys him without hesitation, sliding down the desk.
The carpet is dense under my knees. He takes his time to look at me, skirt hiked to my waist, damp panties on display. Trembling in anticipation of what he’ll ask of me next.
I have no idea what his answer means, but I’m past the point of caring. I’m helplessly drawn to his hands, slowly unbuckling and dragging his zipper down.
With each passing second, the pulsing in my core spikes to an unbearable rhythm.
“Did you put on that lipstick for me?” he says, sliding his hand up and down his length, so very slowly. “Open your mouth.”
The imposing sight of him, flushed, his gaze burning, wrecks me.
All I want is to feel him.
Taste him.
Break him.
His hand anchors in my hair when I take him as deep as I can. Greedy and insatiable, digging my nails into his hard thighs, I double down at the sound of his strangled moans.
But he doesn’t let me control the pace. One hand on my jaw, he moves faster, deeper, until my vision blurs. But I don’t want him to stop.
“You keep testing my patience, baby,” he grunts. “It’s a good thing I —” His words dissolve on his lips when my throat contracts around him.
I let him pour everything out, grasping onto his scent, the tang on my tongue, and the way he chases his pleasure.
He’s close. I’m so attuned to his tells that I know what he needs. With a swirl of my tongue, I push myself forward, my nose almost brushing his skin.
Adam’s eyes screw shut. “I need to pull—”
