Stroke of Midnight (Cinderella 1)

“Really?”

“He’s obsessed with you.”

“He pays me well.”

He smirks as he crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, studying me. “We both know you’re more than an employee to him.”

I’m reminded of what Nate said to me yesterday. How he thinks I’m trying to get Winston to marry me. It unnerves me.

“Nothing more,” I assure him. “Just doing my job until college.”

“I see,” he says, a frown tugging at his lips. “Well, if you ever need help or someone to back you up when Deborah is being a bitch, come see me.”

He’s no longer the smitten, flirting guy he was at the club the other night. It relaxes me considerably.

“I’m a newbie around here. You sure you want to trust me?” I lift a brow at him.

“You hooked the impenetrable Winston Constantine. If you got inside him, you’re something special to him, which means it’s my duty as his brother to look after you. Deborah can fuck off. She just wishes she were you.”

Perry picks up his phone and texts someone. Then he starts to whistle. Not a minute later, the door flings open, hitting the wall with a loud bang. Winston prowls in, a furious glare on his handsome face.

“Are we taking a break to chit-chat, Miss Elliott?”

I narrow my eyes at him, ready to bite back, but then I realize his lips are curled in amusement. “Asshole.”

Perry snorts out a laugh. “I like her.”

“You would. You’re both children. Let’s go, Miss Elliott.”

I rise from my seat and get a tiny thrill when Winston places a possessive hand on my lower back. He guides me out of Perry’s office. When we make it to his office, he stops to speak to Deborah.

“In case it was unclear,” he hisses in a mean tone, “Miss Elliott is my personal assistant. That means she is to assist me during my meetings. She assists me always. Do not ever shoo her away again.”

Deborah’s face blanches. “I’m so sorry, sir.”

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

He walks me into his office and then shuts the door behind us. After he grabs the papers in my hand, he sets them down on the desk.

“Is your butt plug in?” he asks, throwing me off.

“Yes,” I whisper. “I took it out this morning like you told me to before my shower and then put it back in before we left.”

“I don’t believe you.” His dark blue eyes glint with challenge.

“Too damn bad.”

He pulls out his wallet, fishing out a wad of bills. “This says you’ll prove it to me.” With a flick of his wrist, he sends the bills fluttering to my feet. “Bend over my desk, lift your skirt, and spread your legs.”

“Win!”

“Oh,” he taunts. “I forgot.” With sarcasm so thick, I want to slap him, he says, “Please my darling little lovebug.”

“You’re an epic dick.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Say it and mean it,” I challenge.

He steps closer until his front is pressed against mine. Gently, he strokes his fingers through my smooth, flat-ironed hair with one hand and gently cups my jaw with the other. I meet his intense stare.

“You’re so hot today it takes incredible control not to fuck you,” he growls. “I want to do it with the door open so everyone knows you’re my fucking girl.”

My stupid heart does a flop. “Keep going.”

“Spoiled,” he gripes, though his eyes twinkle with amusement. “You make me weak, beautiful. So fucking weak.”

His words don’t feel fake, which confuses me.

“You, weak?” I bark out a laugh. “Never.”

He presses his lips to mine, ravishing me with a devastating kiss. I’m so caught up in his kiss, I forget where we are, clinging to his suit jacket, wishing he’d strip me now.

“Obey me, lovely girl, and I’ll take you someplace nice for lunch.” He trails kisses along my cheek to the side of my neck. “Do as I say, and I’ll buy you whatever you want.”

I moan when he sucks on my flesh. “Winston.”

“Yes, good girl?”

“You’re going to ruin me.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because your lies feel like truth.”

“I look forward to making you cry and beg.” He nips at my neck. “Now bend over my desk, and show me your ass. Enough talk. I’ve given you your sweet words. Give me your sweet ass.”

I cry out in surprise when he spins me around. My palms hit the surface of his desk with a slap as he pushes me down. A tremble ripples through me at being bent over and at his mercy.

“Show me.”

I roll my eyes at his bossiness and yank my skirt up over my ass. His deft fingers hook onto my panties, dragging them down my thighs. They fall to my ankles.

“Rest your face on my desk and use both hands to show me your butt plug,” he orders. “Be a good girl, Cinderelliott.”

I cringe at having to expose myself so crudely, but something inside me craves his approval. “Are you going to fuck me?”