Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
First name basis… okay then.
“Nick,” I breathe, helpless to do anything but obey the unspoken command.
His grin sharpens at the edges, smug and hungry. “Atta girl,” he praises. “Don’t freak yourself out, Princess. You’re not my employee here, understood? This,” he says, punctuating the word with a slight scrape of his nails at my neck, “is separate from work.”
My thoughts scatter into bits and pieces being this close to him, the woody scent of his cologne almost as overwhelming as the heat of his hands on my skin.
Every time I think I’m starting to calm down, the gravel of his voice scrapes down my spine or his fingers brush against a spot on my shoulder that’s never been so sensitive before. My mind won’t settle for longer than it takes me to blink, but it’s razor-focused on Nick. I feel like I’m buzzing, adrenaline and desire warring against the warning sirens trying desperately to get me to do something other than melt into his touch.
I should argue. Or ask questions, at least.
I shouldn’t tip my head back and allow the control he has over me to take permanent hold, but the hunger in his eyes makes it impossible to do anything but obey.
“I won’t blame you if it’s too much,” he murmurs, his words gentle even as his hands never stop roaming over every inch of bare skin. “If you don’t want this, now that you know the truth, you just have to say the word.”
Everything I’ve fantasized about is being offered to me on a silver platter, and he’s not sure if I want this?
Okay, yes, it’s terrifying. I’m mortified that my boss looked me in the eye after instructing me how to get myself off on multiple occasions. It’s endlessly embarrassing that I made it so easy for him—and that I’m going to continue making it easy for him.
But for once, the rational part of my brain isn’t louder than my impulses.
I want this. All of this.
All of him.
“You’re not surprised.” It’s more of a realization than a statement, the truth evident in the way he hasn’t hesitated for a second tonight. “Did you know it was me this whole time? Since the gala?”
“Since the Halloween party,” he corrects me, his smirk widening.
The Halloween party? What is he… my mouth drops open in shock as realization slams into me.
The Halloween party? The one right after I got hired?
“I—that was you?”
He chuckles, sliding his fingers through my hair in a way that’s somehow both soothing and possessive. “Sorry for making you wait so long, Miss Morgan. I had to be sure you wanted this as much as I did before I took what belongs to me.”
His fingers tangle in my hair, tugging my head back before I can respond.
I tremble as he bends down, slow and measured, graceful like a predator when he fixes his lips to my throat. It’s more intense than anything I’ve ever felt before, the entire world narrowing down to the scratch of his stubble and the warm press of his mouth over my pounding pulse.
“Tell me what you want, Riley.”
The unconcealed lust in his tone makes me shiver, my skin breaking out in goosebumps as he bullies his knees between my legs. The slit in my skirt bares one leg all the way to my hip, and Nick hums in approval as he drags his palm down the curve of my waist to trace the naked skin.
“It’s all up to you. Do you want this?” he asks, that calloused palm sliding up another torturous inch. “Do you want me?”
My nails catch on the expensive fabric of his suit jacket as his thumb brushes the inside of my thigh, just below the hem of my panties. His eyes gleam with confidence and mirth, like he knows the answer already. Like he just wants to hear me beg for it.
“God, yes, Nick,” I moan, arching into his touch desperately, the years of pining crashing into me all at once. “More than anything. I need it.”
The noise he lets out is nothing short of animalistic, base, raw, and starving, and it lights a fire low in my gut.
He slides his free hand beneath me and teases the zipper of my dress down slowly, kissing across the low neckline as I arch up to help him. The press of his knuckles against my spine and the way he lifts my hip up to give him enough room makes my head spin.
Nick’s mouth travels lower and lower once the zipper is free, allowing him to nudge the neckline of my dress down far enough to bare my breasts. He nips at the sensitive skin before swiping his tongue across my nipple, smirking at the gasp that tears from my throat.
“Be a good girl and ask for what you want,” he croons, low and amused. “I’ll give you everything you need if you just say please, Miss Morgan.”