Page 111 of The Wrong Sister


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Maeve rounds the desk, her hips swaying in that hypnotic way that knocks my remaining sense out. She perches on the edge, right on top of another denial letter Martin collected before. “Bad day?”

“The worst,” I admit shamefully. Something I don’t do. Bluffing until I make it is the only way in this world. Swallowing hard, I continue with the truth, not able to stop myself. “I think I’m going to lose the company.”

“What?” Her head tilts to the side with worry.

“I don’t think the voting power will save it now.” I try sounding calm, but everything inside is burning. Years of fighting are coming to an end with Noah and I on the losers’ side.

“Why?”

I tell her the short version of how they’re planning to keep us in court while the company crumbles. Eventually, we’d lose all clients—no one wants to be associated with legal battles and questionable quality. No one’s reputation can take such a hit.

“I’m sorry, Ezra,” Maeve says sincerely when I’m done. “I’m really sorry.” Then she does something unexpected. Placing her right hand on my cheek, she smiles softly. Her comforting warmth seeps into me. “It’s my fault. I know that. And I’m really, really sorry.”

I cover her hand with mine, finding her eyes with my gaze. “It’s not, Maeve. Don’t even think about that. It was bound to happen sooner or later. My father started the process of sinking us five years ago when he decided to open the company and invite the board. He knew it was going to happen, but he was willing to give up something that was in our family for generations just to prove his point.” I press my hand firmer onto hers. “It’s not your fault.”

Her eyes are shiny with unshed tears, but she nods. “I’m still sorry. I know how much this means to you.”

Does she? Does she really know me so well?The deeper I dig into her eyes, the more I believe so.

“I know.” I lean into her touch, letting her fingers travel into my hair.

“Do you want me to kiss it better?” She exhales the question, surprising me once again. Her tone is light, but her concern is genuine, her eyes scanning my face.

“I think it’ll take more than a kiss to fix this situation.”

“Oh, I’ve got more than kisses up my sleeve,” she purrs, and my eyes drop to her bare shoulder. The material keeps dropping lower when she moves. Right where a vine of her arm tattoo peeks through. I get distracted and don’t notice how her hand lands on my tie and pulls me into her orbit. Right into the cloud of her coconut scent.

“Yeah?” I rasp. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, I could start by dancing on your desk. Naked,” she suggests, eyes twinkling with mischief.

I chuckle, the sound rough with stress. “And risk you falling and suing me? The paperwork alone would be a nightmare.”

“True,” she concedes with a laugh, running her finger over the surface of my desk. “How about I make you a cup of coffee?”

“Fuck no!” I let out a loud, unexpected laugh. “Never make me coffee again, Maeve. Never.”

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, trying not to smile.

“Alright,” she says, jumping off the desk and dropping straight down to her knees. In front of me. Right between my legs. “I think I know something that might help.”

“What are you doing, Maeve?” I ask huskily, spreading my thighs wider to give her space.

“Something that might not require any paperwork.”

With that, her hands go straight for my belt.

“Maeve.” I don’t know what I want to say, but I just have to let her know that she doesn’t have to do it. Even though I probably won’t be able to breathe if she changes her mind. My cock is very eagerly pushing on the zipper from the inside, trying to meet her as fast as it possibly can.

She looks like a dream, on her knees between my legs, her hands working my belt.

“Maeve,” I start again, my voice pleading. I don’t think I’m asking her to stop. I’m sure I’m asking her not to.

“I’ll have control now. If you misbehave, I’ll bite it,” she says with a crooked smile. Her cheeks pink. Her eyes glassy.

“And I just might like it.”

She likes the answer because she pulls my cock out and shows me how beneficial it can be to lose control sometimes. I never thought seeing my wife with my cock between her swollen lips, on her knees under the desk in my office, could be hotter than the release itself. I wish she’d continue this torture without ever bringing me to finish.