I stood, unabashedly yanked off my tie in front of her. Then I unbuttoned my shirt with efficient movements and tossed it over the chair.
Vivienne's breathing hitched. Those blue eyes went wide as saucers.
I walked over, popped the metal buckle of my belt with a click, and pulled my waistband down a few inches, exposing my V-line and the black thorn tattoo that traced along my hip bone and disappeared into my briefs.
"Take a good look, author." I braced my hands on either side of her chair, looming over her, voice rough as gravel. "Details make or break the story."
Vivienne's face turned blood-red. But her writer's damned curiosity apparently won out over shame.
She swallowed hard, then slid off her chair like she was possessed, kneeling on the thick Persian rug. To see the tattoo details, her face was practically pressed against my abs.
Fuck.
From my angle, her fluffy head was bowed submissively between my legs.
Her warm breath scattered across my already taut groin with each careful observation.
This visually explosive, sexually charged image was a sledgehammer that shattered the last thread of sanity in my brain.
Almost instantly, I felt myself harden uncontrollably, brutally—my rock-hard length arrogantly tenting my slacks, nearly poking her nose.
Vivienne clearly sensed the dangerous shift. She jerked her head up, blue eyes full of panic.
"I... I just remembered, I got inspiration already! I'll get some water!" She stammered out the words, scrambling to escape on hands and knees.
"Too late, firecracker."
My voice was gravel. I grabbed her slender wrist and yanked hard.
"Ah!"
With her short gasp, I threw her entire body roughly onto that wide walnut desk. Papers and pens scattered to the floor.
I pinned her down, my right leg forcing between her thighs, nailing her to the desktop.
"Weren't you looking for inspiration?" I lowered my head, nearly savagely biting her earlobe, my palm sliding roughly up her inner thigh, ripping away that thin fabric barrier. "Since you got me this worked up, as your exclusive model, I need to give you some more 'in-depth,' hands-on physical stimulation."
"Nikolai, wait... I need to write down the details—mmph!"
I cut off all her protests with my mouth, swallowing that "wait" between lips and teeth. The kiss was fierce and invasive, filled with undeniable conquest.
Vivienne struggled slightly under my weight, then quickly melted into fragmented whimpers—sounds like feathers scratching my nerves, making the fire in my lower belly burn hotter.
I broke the kiss just long enough to shove her sweater up, baring her breasts to the lamplight. My mouth found one nipple,sucking hard while my hand roughly palmed the other. She arched beneath me, gasping, fingers clutching at my shoulders like she needed an anchor.
"You taste so fucking good," I growled against her skin, teeth grazing the sensitive peak. Her response was a broken moan that went straight to my cock.
But I wasn't done with her yet. Not even close.
I dropped to my knees between her legs, spreading them wider. The view nearly destroyed me—she was already wet, glistening in the low light. I looked up at her, saw those blue eyes glazed with need and confusion, and smirked.
"Let me give you some real inspiration, author."
Then I buried my face between her thighs, inhaling her intoxicating scent before my tongue even touched her. The first slow, deliberate stroke along her slick folds made her cry out sharply, her whole body jerking violently on the desk. I gripped her hips, fingers digging into soft flesh as I held her firmly in place and devoured her like a starving man.
She tasted incredible—sweet, musky, and utterly addictive. I licked broad, flat strokes from her entrance up to her swollen clit, then circled the sensitive nub with the tip of my tongue, alternating between teasing flicks and firm pressure. Every gasp and whimper fueled me. I sucked her clit gently between my lips, humming against her so the vibration traveled straight through her core.
"Nikolai, oh God, I can't—"
