Kat gets up and sashays around the desk. She jumps up on it, swinging her legs a bit.
“Why not do it now? You want to reward me so badly. Get in there now. There’s nothing I like more after fixing a deal than a nice orgasm.”
I know the scowl has returned to my face. I’m trying to gain ground here, not lose it.
“But here in the office, I’m in charge, babe,” I explain as I rest my hands on her knees. “I’ll happily indulge your every whim when we get home. I’ll do anything my little Kat commands. But here in the office, I’m in charge. Not the other way around.”
I can’t puzzle out her expression. Those golden eyes are wide, fixed on mine.
Her lips are just slightly parted.
I can’t tell if she’s for it or against it.
Fuck it! That doesn’t matter.
I told her I’m in charge here. That means I am, and I don’t give a good fucking damn what she thinks of it.
She’s going to get that after-deal orgasm, maybe not the way she wanted it. An escalation of her power and control. She’s going to get multiple orgasms by way of being thrashed by my cock, so help me.
10
Katrina
He shoves me up against the wall and pins me there.
That doesn’t fucking surprise me, honestly. That seems like a standard move from the sexual arsenal of a man like Will Ambrose: forceful, intense, pushy, and demanding.
What does surprise me is that I enjoy it as much as I do.
I’m not the kind of woman who’s easily dominated.
Like, let’s be real, babe.
I’ve got the kind of personality that would make a lesser man weak in the knees in all the worst ways. But not Will Ambrose.
No—if anything, Will Ambrose sees this as a fucking challenge.
This man’s like a hammer; everything’s a nail to him.
And when he pins me up against the wall? I know exactly what he’ll be nailing next.
Me.
“You’re not wasting any time, are you?” I ask.
“After that little show? No, I’m fucking not,” Will responds.
I love the way he challenges me.
“Right here? In the office?” I ask.
“Less questions,” he tells me. “More nudity.”
Will presses his body against mine. He grabs each of my wrists, holding both of them against the wall level with my head.
He kisses my ear and neck, breathing heavily at the same time. He releases my hands so he can unbutton my white blouse and remove it. He throws it over his shoulder.
“That’s some bra you have on,” he comments, staring at the white lacy bra I’d bought at a lingerie store last week. “Did you wear it just for me?”