Page 20 of Prey

He doesn't pull away instead he takes me deeper, swallows around me. The feeling is too much. My orgasm hits me like a wave, hard and overwhelming. I grip his hair crying out his name as I pour myself down his throat.

He doesn't stop, doesn't flinch, doesn't pull away until I'm finished. I pull him up watch him swallow me and kiss him, tasting myself on his tongue.

"Beautiful," I say. His eyes are wet, his hands are gripping my shoulders like I'm the only thing keeping him upright.

"That was,"

"I know." I say, because I do.

He laughs. Broken. Relieved. "You know everything."

I tuck myself back in. Smooth his hair. He's still shaking.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

He laughs. "I think so, I think I've never been more okay in my life."

I smile. "Good."

He looks at me. His eyes are soft. Vulnerable.

"What happens now?"

"Now," I say, "you go back to your friends. You finish your drink. You pretend this didn't happen."

"I can't pretend."

"You're going to try." I smooth his shirt. Make him presentable. "And tomorrow morning, you're going to sit at your desk like the perfect, efficient, invisible secretary you've always been."

Chapter 12

Grey

"On your knees, Grey."

"Prove it."

"See you in the office."

That's all he said, no I'll call you later, just see you in the office, like I was just an employee he ran into, not someone he had on his knees. Did it mean anything? I punch my pillow and hate myself for wanting him again.

I get to the office at 6:30 AM, it’s too early. His door is closed. He's not here yet. Good. I need time to put myself back together. He arrives at 8:30, I know without looking, it’s the way the air changes when he walks past.

"Morning, Grey." His voice is neutral, like the voice of a man who didn't spend last night with his hand gripping my hair and shoving his cock down my throat.

"Good morning, sir."

I look up with a smile my mask back in place. He pauses at my desk. Looks down at me.

"You're here early."

How did he know?

"I wanted to get a head start on the Thomas file."

He nods and walks into his office. Every email feels like a trap, every phone call a test, and every time his door opens my heart stops, waiting for him to prove that last night was real.

He doesn't.