He’s taking me. Owning me. Dominating me. Leaving me no choice but to take the fucking he’s delivering.
And I love it.
Another orgasm builds and threatens to shatter my grip, and when he changes his pattern, my body is thrown into a new level of chaos.
Thrust after thrust, I can’t even understand the babbling words spilling from my lips.
I can’t stop coming.These aren’t multiples ... they’re continuous, and I’m a writhing, moaning body without any coherent thought beyond—don’t stop.
He doesn’t. My control shatters along with my grip.
The blood pounding through my head deafens me, but not enough to miss his roar of ecstasy just before he thrusts slow and shallow.
“Fuck!” He releases my hair to grip both my hips, pulling them back against him hard as he finally stills.
For long moments, I wait for my heart to burst because it can’t handle the beating, but finally, it slows.
This is a moment I’m not prepared for. I don’t know what to say. What to do. What to think. How to justify this aberration in my carefully plotted life.
What the hell did I do?
The intensity of the moment fractures as he steps away, the thick length of his cock pulling out of my body. I wait for two long seconds before I flip my skirt down and push off the desk.I have to get out of here.
A quick look over my shoulder shows me that his back is turned as he walks toward a door I didn’t notice. My logical thoughts are momentarily derailed as my gaze locks on the flex of his perfectly formed ass.Jesus Christ, how is that fair?
It doesn’t matter.I have to go. This never should have happened.
I tear my eyes off his ass, grab my bag, snag my pumps, and bolt for the door barefoot. He doesn’t notice my escape until I yank it open.
“What the—” His deep voice cuts off when I slam the door shut behind me and race for the stairs.
Run. Hurry. Hurry.
I trip down the steps, nearly causing myself to tumble down them headfirst, but I grip the railing and keep going. The man at the next level looks up at my panicked exit, but the blood is pounding too loudly in my ears for me to hear what he says.
I don’t know if I’m expecting some kind of emergency siren to sound, like I’m an intruder who must be stopped, but nothing does. I reach the front door without breaking an ankle.
“Keys. I need my keys. And my car. Now. Hurry. It’s an emergency.”
The man straightens with a jerk and nods before opening the door and giving an instruction into what must be a microphone attached to his collar.
I shove my feet into my heels, then stumble down the last set of steps to the curved driveway, chancing a glance over my shoulder.
Is he going to chase me?
Do I want him to?
I can’t afford to let myself answer that last question as I hustle down to the valet stand.
I keep checking over my shoulder, expecting the door to burst open any moment, but it doesn’t. My Bronco rumbles around the corner and the valet hops out.
I practically clobber him in my rush to get inside. Trembling, I slam the door in his face and floor it.
What the hell did I do?
Chapter 3
Temperance