“I’m waiting.”
I grabbed the front of my skirt and pulled it up to my waist, leaving nothing to the imagination. He’d seen it before, anyway.
His nostrils flared as he stared at me, and lust descended on the room. It filled every inch and crevice, made it so it was all I could taste, became all I could think about. The desk was no longer cold against my bare skin or uncomfortable as the edge dug into the back of my thighs. All I desired was his touch, and it felt like I’d burst if I didn’t get it right this instant.
But Macalister didn’t touch me.
His hot gaze slid over the most intimate, secret part of my body, caressing my pink jeweled piercing, before moving up to peer into my face. His eyes were lidded, and his chest moved quickly, but otherwise he maintained his cool exterior.
“Do whatever you need to,” he commanded, “to make yourself comfortable, and when you’re ready, pick my gift up, turn it on, and make yourself come.”
I exhaled loudly, disappointment snaking across my exposed skin. “You’re just going to watch?”
His smug smile was irritatingly sexy. “Show me how you follow my commands, and I’ll give you more.” The desire in his office was so thick, I was drowning in it, and even he seemed to struggle now against the current. “I’ll give you so much more, Sophia.”
He’d told me on Saturday that I had disrupted him, but did he know he did the same to me? Everything blurred and spun around him. Down was up. I couldn’t get the rest of the world to notice me, but Macalister didn’t miss a detail now.
I lay back on the desktop and propped myself up on my elbows, wanting to keep looking at him as he stared back at me. His cheekbones were so high and sharp, and his pale blue eyes intense. God, he was gorgeous. There were brand guidelines out there somewhere for “Cutthroat Billionaire Executive” and he adhered to them flawlessly.
He was a classic man with discerning tastes, and I was happy to be a flavor he currently enjoyed.
I picked up the vibrator beside me and pressed the button on its handle, making it spring to life. It was quiet but powerful, and I hesitantly set the head of it between my legs.
Just the whisper of contact against my clit, and I collapsed onto my back, banging loudly onto the desk. “Fuck.”
I’d wanted to watch him as I did it, but I’d spent the whole goddamn day turned on. It’d take next to nothing to make me come, and seeing him shift in his chair was already too much. He’d leaned an elbow on the armrest and rested his chin against his hand, one finger crooked over his lips like he was considering a tempting offer.
The sensation of the vibrations was so good, it felt like agony. I kept having to pull it off for a few seconds to catch my breath, before starting again. Sparks danced down my legs, making me flinch with pleasure as I stared at the ceiling.
Part of me wanted someone to walk in on us right now. They’d discover the chief shareholder and owner of Hale Banking and Holding sitting at his desk, supervising his young assistant while she got herself off with a vibrator.
The scandal would be decadent.
“Are you close already?” He asked it like he already knew the answer.
I whimpered. “It feels so good.” The wand was easy to hold, like it had been designed with self-use in mind, unlike my generic one at home. Sometimes I got a cramp holding it. “Whatever you paid for this—it was worth it.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I am too.” His voice wasn’t cold or strict anymore; now it was filled with smoke and heat. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
“Language,” I whispered with shock, pretending to scold him. But I drew the pulsing head of the wand away from my clit to stop the orgasm his words nearly brought on.
“Did you think about this all day?” he asked.
“Yes.” The buzzing toy was truth serum. He could ask me anything, and I’d tell it to him, no matter how embarrassing or dark the secret was.
“I did too. I wondered if you’ll make the same sounds as you did last time. Or will your moans be different than when I had my fingers inside you?”
“Fuck,” I gasped again, squirming away from the wand. I both did and didn’t want to come. Last time I hadn’t believed it was possible, and it’d been dark in the room. There was nowhere to hide this time. He’d see everything.
Macalister stood and stepped between my parted legs, looming over me, and adjusted the cuffs of his shirt beneath his suit jacket sleeves. The way he moved was practiced and graceful and deliberate.
“Why do you keep doing that,” he asked, “pulling it away?” He leaned over, using his body to pin the vibrator back against me. “I’ve already shown you this is a battle you can’t win.”
I groaned with pleasure as the vibrator crushed against me. I wanted to submit completely but was also afraid. What if he saw something he didn’t like? Or what if he got what he wanted then cast me aside?
Or . . . what if this was all just a game to him? He hadn’t gotten Marist. Was I her replacement, the consolation prize he was settling for?
His gaze was vicious in its pursuit, determined to see down into the depths of my mind and discover what I was thinking, and I turned my head away, unable to look.
“I don’t know if I can,” I panted for air, “with you watching me.”
“You can,” he said. “And you will. I’m going to make you do it a hundred different times if needed.”
Desire flashed through my center. I liked Macalister’s plan a lot.
“But right now?” His tone was firm, teeming with arrogance. “I’m going to bring you to orgasm with my tongue.”
I groaned and jerked at the idea, my entire body shuddering in acute pleasure. But instead of dropping to his knees as I expected, he clamped his hand down on top of mine, so we were gripping the vibrator together. And then he directed me to push it harder against my sensitive clit, making my piercing rattle.
I arched off the desk as the orgasm gathered like a storm, and Macalister shoved his free hand beneath my neck, scooped me up into his kiss. Lightning cracked across my chest, and flames licked at my legs. The swell of pleasure built, and built, and fucking built . . .
He forced my lips open, and the sliver of his tongue glancing against my own sealed my fate.
A panicked moan ripped from my throat and was gasped into his mouth as I came. Heat blasted up my spine, setting my nerve endings on tingling fire, and I contracted with each pulse of ecstasy as the waves rolled through my body. I had to push the wand away, overly sensitive and overwhelmed, and he allowed it, taking the vibrator from me, turning it off, and setting it aside.
I was still shuddering as he lowered me back onto his desk, my head nearly off the back of it, and I slammed my eyes shut. It was too much, too sexy, the way he examined me in my vulnerable state of post-orgasm recovery. He’d said he was going to bring me to orgasm with his tongue . . . and he had. There’d obviously been some mechanical assistance, but when he’d licked into my mouth, that was what had sent me over the edge.
That connection was the last tumbler clicking into place and unlocked my pleasure.
I wasn’t sure how long I lay on his desk, but once my breathing slowed to a languishing pace, he helped me up onto my trembling legs, lowered my skirt, and folded his arms around me in a reassuring embrace. Or perhaps it was to trap me. Either was possible with him.