“No. Do what you have to do.”
I intend to.
“This is no place for a shy little thing like yourself.”
My hand clenches the fabric of her dress, dragging it past her stomach and lowering until the first peek of her cunt appears. And my only regret is that she’s not sitting on my face where I can taste it.
Her hands ball as I continue removing her dress.
“I’m not shy.” But that crack in her tone betrays her.
“Don’t lie to me, Ms. Monroe.” I yank the dress past her thighs, my face lowering to her core and inhaling its scent as she steps out of the garment.
Her legs squeeze, and I pry them open while looking up at her, enjoying the torment on her face.
“If you have a problem with my hands on you, how will you ever handle anyone else’s hands?”
The thought of anyone else touching her makes a surprising level of rage pummel through me. This is quite interesting, this possessiveness. Oddly enticing too. I’m going to enjoy this little game with her.
She grabs a fistful of my hair. “What now?”
“Now…”
I straighten, purposely letting my gaze slink down every barecurve, knowing how much she needs a proper fuck. It’s basically written all over that tight face. Wonder if her cunt is just as tight and angry, like a little pussycat with sharp claws.
“You put on a show for me and let me be the judge.”
“What?” She chokes on the word while I let out a bored sigh.
“The door is right there, Ms. Monroe. I’m not holding you prisoner. This job isn’t for everyone.”
Her fingers quiver, but only for a second, her mouth forming a thin line. “What kind of show?”
My lips wind up.The kind I want burned into my memory long after I’m through with you.
“Hop on my desk.”
Her mouth trembles like she’s about to say something, but like a good girl, she does what she’s told. Climbing up, she clamps her legs shut, trying to hide from me.
Unfortunately, that won’t work for either one of us.
Grabbing her knees, I slowly part them. “Spread your thighs, katyonak. Show me everything.”
TESSA
His hands make me feel like my skin’s on fire. Every touch sets me off, which enrages me more.
I shouldn’t be turned on right now. This level of humiliation shouldn’t get me off, but it does. I’ve clearly gone insane—or he did something to me—because I slowly let him pull my legs apart until a deep grunt escapes from his throat.
His dark eyes lock to mine, my pulse battering in my chest as he drops his attention to my core, practically licking and sucking me already. I wonder if that’s what he’ll do.
Would I let him? Do I even have a choice? Getting close to Konstantin Marinov is the only chance Nate has.
His large, masculine hands engulf my inner thighs, making every inch of me hot with lust. If I didn’t want to stab him to death, I would’ve fucked him by now and enjoyed myself.
Instead, here I am, pretending to tolerate the thought of him, let alone the way he touches me. He can’t know how much I truly hate him.
His gaze drags over me while his fingers trace lazy circles up and down my inner thighs.
