“We have thirty minutes,” he serves as a warning before heading toward the meeting room.
Talent takes Lydia to his office, and I point farther down the hall. I know Wilder’s there before Talent nods. My heart tells me so.
I knock on the last door on the left as a courtesy before stepping inside, and I know immediately that the rumors are true.
“You really do have the best office.”
Talent and Lydia have a view of the beach, but they share walls on each side of their offices. Wilder has the corner office, and only shares one wall. He has a panoramic view of the ocean and all of Grand Haven. On a cloudy day like today, when the ocean looks like mist and fog lays over the city like a blanket, I can see it all from the top of the world.
Wilder’s corner of the universe is decorated in dark wood and leather, wool texture, and warm lights. His accomplishments are framed on the walls, and there’s a putting green in the corner. The chocolaty scent of whiskey goes where he goes, and he’s behind his desk, perched back in his chair, staring at a blue velvet box.
“I want someone to look at me the way Wilder Ridge looks at priceless jewels,” I say, sweeping my finger across his impressive library of books.
“Don’t be fooled, Camilla,” he says evenly. “They come with a price. I’m not willing to pay it.”
“Me?” I mouth playfully.
Wilder’s lips curve into a smirk. “Unless you’re into that kind of thing.”
I come around his desk, and he pushes his chair back to give me room to stand between him and the necklace. I bend down to look at it, very aware that when I bend over, he’s eye level with my bottom and my leggings are practically see-through.
And I’m not wearing any underwear.
“No, I prefer someone who can do both,” I say, studying the string of diamonds.
Wilder rests his hand on the inside of my knee, slowly sliding it higher and higher. “Can do both of what?”
I stand straight, having already forgotten about the sapphires. I close my eyes as he cups my sex, and I whisper, “Be the hero and the villain.”
Pulling me onto his lap, Wilder’s cock presses against my lower back. One hand goes up my sweater, underneath my bra to cup my breast, and the other goes down the front of my leggings, between my folds to my opening. He slips the tips of his fingers inside of me like a hook, and I tilt my head to the side, exposing my neck to his mouth.
“My brother told me you were lost,” he says between kisses. He massages my chest and slides his fingers deeper inside of me. “Don’t you know I’d flatten this entire fucking city to find you? I’d slaughter anyone who got in my way. And when I found you, because I would, you wouldn’t think me capable of being a hero. Not after what I would do to anyone who tried to take you from me, Camilla.”
“I’m sorry,” I moan, stroking against his hand.
“And from now on,” he says, plunging his fingers inside of me, “use the fucking treadmill.”
Arching my back, I ride his hand like I did last night, but I know right away that it’s not enough. I want to be filled to the brim and stretched around him. I want to feel him entirely against and inside of me, with his lips on my skin and his fingers holding tight enough to leave marks. When he comes, I want every last drop of it to be in me, so it runs down my leg when the Coppolas get here.
I hope they smell it on me.
I hope it makes them realize that I am not theirs to be bought with gifts or to be taken by threats.
“Wilder, please,” I beg, slipping my thumbs under the waistband of my leggings. I only manage to push them down my hips. “Please.”
He stands us up and bends me over the desk, yanking my leggings past my bottom. Kicking my feet apart, Wilder spreads me wide open. Cool air touches my hot center, and I reach for the edge of the desk, knocking the necklace to the floor. I close my eyes as wave after wave of anticipation washes through me, lighting me up. He curves his body around mine, digging his fingers into my ass, squeezing the fleshy roundness.
“As if that motherfucker could ever have you.” The head of his cock slides through the line of my pussy, pushing against my clit. “Like I’d ever let him close enough to try.”
“Never,” I say, sliding back and forth along his entire length.
His hand comes around my face to cover my mouth, and I moan in pleasure as he finally sheathes himself inside of me, sliding all the way home. We don’t move for a second, savoring the sensation of being wholly together as one. Hypnotized by it. Drugged by it. Amazed.
I curve my back up, lifting to the tips of my toes to see if he can go in any farther. Wilder drops his head to the back of my shoulder and shudders, breathing out slowly. He falls into me a little deeper, and it finally feels like enough. Slow at first, hesitant to leave the complete fit of our bodies, he pulls out and slides right back in. But it’s not long before we’ve worked ourselves into a frenzy, and this feels too good not to move faster, fuck harder.
Sex is different when you care.
It’s not a transaction. It’s not about hurrying through this because I have a schedule to keep or expectations to fulfill.
