Who the hell was this man?
I was thankful for the support of the desk. Lust had turned my knees to rubber, my insides to jelly. I had to struggle to breathe over the aching fire he’d started. Everything burned, and burned for him.
He released my hair and my head lolled to hang down between my shoulders. I could barely hear over the rush of blood in my ears, but he’d moved. Kyle dropped behind me onto a knee and gripped my ankle, urging the panties over my heels one by one. I was too overwhelmed with desire to resist.
As soon as I was free from my underwear, his grip was back on my waist, forcing me to turn around once again. I wobbled on my heels, both unsure of what he was doing, yet also filled with jittery excitement, and my backside slammed against the edge of the desk.
He was on his knees in his two-thousand-dollar suit, staring up at me, but there was no doubt he was the one in charge. His palm flattened on my belly over the skirt bunched up there, and he pressed me back until I was seated on the desktop, my bare ass cold against the smooth wood. I moved like a puppet under his command, my body doing whatever he ordered it to.
“Get those legs open,” he demanded, but didn’t give me time to comprehend. His palms clasped my knees and shoved them apart, putting my wet pussy on full display. With him on his knees, it was right at his eye-level, and he moved in for the kill. I had to thread a hand through his thick hair and hold on as he hooked my knees over his shoulders.
I froze with anxiety and desire, both wanting what was about to happen and terrified of it. This was a really bad idea, not just because we were in his office during work hours, but he’d broken my heart. I shouldn’t let him get close, even just for sex. Mind-blowing, toe curling, everything-I-ever-wanted sex.
“Kyle . . .”
Too late. He dragged his tongue steadily along the inside of my thigh, not stopping until he’d found his intended target. His tongue was furious, lashing at my clit, and making my whole body jerk.
Oh.
Oh, wow.
I gripped the edge of the desk under my ass with one hand and yanked on his hair with my other, desperate for more and hating how quickly he’d gotten me to fold. In over your head with him, Ruby. You knew that already.
He paused only to utter the phrase, “Sign it.”
And he went right back to
work.
I stared at the top of his head which was buried between my spread legs and my vision blurred from the pleasure. “You son of a bitch.”
His dark laugh only made more heat fill my belly. Before, I’d loved it when he didn’t fight fair, because I didn’t either. He’d get his way, and he knew it.
Maybe I had, too, right from the beginning. But I wasn’t going to blatantly agree to his terms. My mind scrambled to find something to negotiate. He’d taken emotion out of the equation, yet there was something else I desired, which just happened to make him uneasy. Perfect.
“A line needs to be amended,” I said. “Total honesty between partners.”
He slowed as he considered it, and when he stopped altogether, he must have grasped the full extent. No hiding behind half-truths or deflecting questions, as he liked to do. Getting information out of him was no easy thing.
My belly did a flip-flop as he grabbed a pen and scrawled the line of text after the final paragraph. Like it was easy to give this up. Shit. I thought I’d been so clever, and now I had the suspicion my term was going to come back around to bite me.
The pen clattered to the wood, and Kyle refocused on me. “Done.” He slid two fingers deep inside me, hard and fast. “Now say yes.”
“Fuck.” My eyes wanted to roll back in my head. I half-expected to come away with a fistful of his hair, I was tugging on it that hard. Like everything else he’d done today, his tempo wasn’t slow. His thick fingers moved roughly, fucking me with a blissful burn.
It was impossible to restrain my moans. How soundproof were the offices? Was anyone still around to hear if I lost control? “Someone’s,” I panted, “going to hear me.”
“Not if you stay quiet.” His mouth was a volcano, causing mini eruptions of pleasure, and threatening a big finish.
“I can’t . . . when you’re doing that.”
“Sure you can. I believe in you.”
His tempo was blistering. My legs were trembling on his shoulders. God, he was going to have to stop, or at least slow down, or I was going to lose my mind. My inhibitions were likely to go right along with it.
My tone had a fair amount of warning. “You’re going to make me come.”
“Not until you tell me what I want to hear.”