“I shouldn’t touch you,” he murmurs, voice rough with need. “You shouldn’t even be here.”
His thumb brushes my cheek, so gentle it makes me shiver. “But you are.”
He leans in, just close enough for his breath to mingle with mine, for the heat of his body to make me forget my name. His hand drops to my waist, fingers digging in, just enough to remind me how easily he could take what he wants. How much I want him to.
My pulse hammers, my thighs squeezing together for any relief, desperate for friction. I’m so wet I’m embarrassed, but I don’t move. I can’t. I want to see what he’ll do—whatIwill do.
He drags his fingers up my thigh, slow, teasing, until they’re just under the hem of my skirt, ghosting over the edge of my soaked panties. His lips graze my ear, sending goosebumps skittering down my spine.
“Tell me to stop,” he says, but his voice is a challenge, not a request.
I can’t. I won’t.
I tip my head back, exposing my throat, my body screaming yes even as my mind spins.
“Please,” I whisper, but I don’t even know what I’m asking for.
His fingers press against me, through the thin fabric, and I gasp, hips rocking helplessly into his hand. He groans, the sound filthy and possessive, and for a heartbeat the rest of the world disappears—there’s only his touch, my need, the slick heat building between us.
But just as quickly as it began, he pulls away, leaving me trembling, desperate, aching for more. He steps back, the spacebetween us suddenly too wide, his expression a storm of want and restraint.
His voice is a command, rough and final. “Get out.”
I don’t argue. I don’t look back. I stumble for the door, barely managing to keep my legs steady, the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears louder than my footsteps. The office air feels cold, sterile, almost foreign after the heat and steam and the dizzying rush of what just happened.
Vivian is sitting at her desk, her lips curled in a satisfied, knowing smirk. She glances at me over her glasses, one eyebrow raised in perfect arch.
“Told you not to go in there,” she murmurs, her tone laced with both amusement and a hint of pity.
I have no answer. Nothing left to say. My cheeks burn as I move past her, my mind a mess, body still throbbing with need and confusion and a strange, electric shame.
All I can do is keep walking, clutching the edge of my desk for balance, desperate to disappear.
9
ALEKSEI
Fuck.
I can’t believe she saw me like that.
I stand under the cold spray, letting the water pound against my shoulders, but nothing cuts through the rush of shame and raw, throbbing hunger twisting inside me. Zatanna. She saw everything—saw me coming, helpless, undone, to the sound of her voice.
My control shattered, just like that. I’ve been careful all my life. Careful with women. Careful with my power. But the second her eyes met mine, all that caution went up in flames.
I replay the moment again and again—her lips parted in shock, her eyes dark and wide, her cheeks flushed, her chest rising and falling as she watched me. Not disgusted. Not even afraid. If anything, she looked… hungry.
I grip the edge of the sink, knuckles white, heart still slamming in my chest.
What the hell is she doing to me?I don’t lose control. I don’t let anyone see me weak—especially not a girl like her. But the look in her eyes, the sound of her breath echoing through the steam, nearly finished me before I even realized she was there.
And now she knows. She knows what her voice does to me—whatshedoes to me.
I should be furious. I should be terrified of what this could mean, how exposed I am. Instead, all I can think about is the way she gasped, the way she lingered in the doorway, the way I wanted nothing more than to drag her in and lose myself in her, again and again.
I have a meeting in ten minutes. I have calls to make, contracts to sign, a life that runs on order and discipline.
But I can’t get her out of my mind.
