After the boardroom their unspoken truth
# The Fine Line ## Chapter 1: The Aftermath The silence in Leo’s apartment felt thicker than the expensive scotch he’d just poured. Across the room, Maya stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, a dark silhouette against the glittering city
Chapter 1
The silence in Leo’s apartment felt thicker than the expensive scotch he’d just poured. Across the room, Maya stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, a dark silhouette against the glittering city grid. The formal attire that had felt like armor in the office—his crisp suit, her structured dress—now felt like relics of a shared failure.
His gaze traced her form, from the mussed waves of her brown hair to the curve of her hips that strained against the wool-blend of her skirt. He saw the tremor in her hand where it rested against the cool glass. The boardroom dismissal still echoed between them, their boss’s cold disapproval a third, unwelcome presence in the room. *Unprofessional. A liability.* The words had been meant for their collaborative project, but they’d landed like stones in the fragile space of what they were becoming.
“He saw the way you looked at me during the presentation,” Maya said, her voice softer than he’d ever heard it. She didn’t turn. “I felt it. That… intensity. It’s what gave us away.”
Leo set his glass down with a quiet click. He didn’t deny it. His intelligence was a sharp tool, and right now, it was focused solely on the woman by the window—on the playful spark in her blue eyes that had been extinguished, on the adventurous spirit that seemed to have folded in on itself. He saw not just a colleague, but the woman who laughed too loudly in the break room, who bit her full lower lip when concentrating, whose emotional currents ran deep and fast.
“He saw the truth,” Leo corrected, his voice low. He finally moved, crossing the polished concrete floor. He stopped behind her, not touching, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his muscular frame, for the scent of his cologne to mix with her perfume. “That this isn’t just a project for us. It’s everything.”
Maya’s breath hitched. The city lights reflected in her eyes like trapped stars. The unspoken fear hung in the air, more potent than any corporate rebuke: the risk of being hurt. Of this beautiful, fragile thing between them leading to abandonment.
“What do we do now?” she whispered, the question hanging between them.
Leo’s answer was a promise, a shift in the charged atmosphere. “We remember what we want. Consent. Trust.” His eyes dropped to the elegant line of her neck, then back to her reflection. “We stop hiding.”
His hand rose, and for a heart-stopping moment, it hovered just beside her arm, a breath away from contact. The electricity was palpable, a live wire of unsated tension. Every shared glance in meetings, every accidental brush of fingers, every suppressed laugh—it all simmered here, in this gap of inches, waiting to be unleashed.
The game had changed. The office was off-limits. But here, in the quiet of his apartment, with the world at their feet and their professional facades shed, a different kind of collaboration was just beginning. One built on everything their boss feared most: raw desire, unflinching honesty, and the thrilling, dangerous trust to explore it all.
Chapter 2
The promise in his whisper hung between them, a tangible heat that outshone the city lights. His hand, still hovering beside her arm, finally completed its journey. His fingers closed gently around her wrist, his touch a grounding current. He guided her away from the window, his intent clear.
“Come here, Maya,” he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her.
He settled into the deep leather armchair, its expanse framing his muscular form. With a gentle, insistent pull, he drew her toward him until she stood between his knees. His eyes, dark and intense, held hers as his hands found the curves of her hips, his thumbs tracing the sensitive dip just above the wool of her skirt.
“Straddle me,” he instructed, the words not a command but a shared conspiracy.
A shiver of pure anticipation raced through her. She obeyed, settling slowly onto his lap, the expensive fabric of her dress riding up her thighs. The hard ridge of his arousal, confined within his suit pants, pressed against her core through the layers of their clothing. The friction was exquisite, a maddening promise of what lay beneath.
His hands roamed her hips, gripping her firmly, pulling her closer until she was fully seated against him. The heat of him seared through the wool and silk.
“God, you feel incredible,” he breathed, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
He shifted her subtly, grinding her against him in a slow, torturous rhythm that made her gasp. “I’ve been going out of my mind, Maya. In every damn meeting, all I could think about was this.” One hand slid from her hip to cup her jaw, tilting her face to his. “The way your mouth would look wrapped around my cock. How your tongue would feel. For weeks.”
The vulgarity of his words, so stark against the formality of their attire, sent a jolt of wet heat straight to her core. She moaned, her head falling forward to rest against his forehead.
“Tell me you’ve thought about it, too,” he demanded, his fingers tangling in her hair.
“Yes,” she confessed on a ragged exhale. “Every time you’d talk in a briefing, so confident, so in control… I’d imagine shutting you up with my mouth.”
A sharp, pleased groan escaped him. He captured her lips in a searing kiss, all tongue and desperate hunger. When he broke away, they were both breathless.
“Then show me,” he whispered, his voice rough with want. His hands went to his belt, the *click* of the buckle loud in the quiet room. “I need to feel your mouth on me. Now.”
Chapter 3
His belt gave way with a soft rasp. Leo guided her firmly by the hand, his other arm sweeping his open shirt aside. Maya descended to her knees on the plush rug between his spread thighs. The city’s glow painted his torso in shades of gold and shadow, highlighting the tension in his abdomen.
His voice dropped to a husky whisper, intimate and raw. “For weeks,” he began, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “In every budget meeting, every presentation… I’d watch your lips move and imagine this exact moment. The way your tongue would press flat against the underside of my cock. How your full lips would stretch to take me deeper.”
Maya’s breath hitched. His words were a physical touch, a direct line to the wet heat pooling at her core. She held his intense gaze, seeing the raw honesty there, the vulnerability beneath the command. This was the trust they’d craved.
Her hands settled on his muscular thighs, feeling the tremor there. She leaned forward, her breath ghosting over him first, a soft, hot promise. His sharp intake of air was her reward. She pressed her mouth to the base of his length through his briefs, a slow, open-mouthed kiss that soaked the fabric. A low groan tore from his throat, his fingers threading into her hair.
Emboldened, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and drew them down, freeing him. He sprang hot and heavy against his stomach. For a moment, she just looked, taking in the silken skin stretched taut, the bead of moisture glistening at the tip. The visual confirmation of his desire for her was dizzying.
She finally closed her lips around the broad head, her tongue swirling, tasting his salt. Leo’s head fell back against the leather with a choked sound. “Yes, just like that,” he gritted out. “Take more.”
She obeyed, sinking down slowly, letting him feel the wet, tight clasp of her throat. Her eyes never left his, the connection a thread of pure fire. One of his hands fisted in her hair, not forcing, but guiding, setting a rhythm that was both a demand and a plea. The other hand cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking the skin stretched taut over his girth.
The sounds were obscene and beautiful—the wet slide of her mouth, his ragged breaths, the quiet rustle of her skirt against the rug. Her own need throbbed, neglected and aching, a sweet counterpoint to the power of giving him this pleasure. She lost herself in the cadence he set, in the taste of him, in the primal satisfaction of feeling him grow even harder, more urgent, against her tongue. He was teetering on the edge, his hips giving minute, helpless thrusts, and she held him there, suspended in the exquisite torment of her making.
Chapter 4
A deep, guttural groan tore from Leo’s chest, his fingers tightening in her hair. “Maya… God, stop. Stop for a second.” His voice was wrecked, strained with the effort of halting his own release.
He guided her mouth off him with a gentle pull, his cock glistening from her lips. With a strength that thrilled her, he brought her to her feet. Her knees were weak, her whole body buzzing.
“Turn around,” he breathed, his hands already at her hips, spinning her to face the vast window. He pressed his front against her back, his hardness a brand against her ass. One hand splayed low on her stomach, pulling her into him, while the other gathered the fabric of her dress, hiking it up past her waist. The cool night air kissed her exposed skin.
“Bend over. Put your hands on the wall,” he instructed, his mouth against her ear. His voice was a dark, possessive whisper. “I need to see you. Every curve. I’ve wanted to watch myself take you like this since the day you walked into that conference room.”
Maya obeyed, her palms flattening against the cool glass, the entire city sprawled below them like a field of stars. She felt utterly exposed, magnificently wanton. Leo’s hands smoothed over the full swell of her ass, then traced the sensitive inner skin of her thighs.
“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his fingers finding her soaked cleft, stroking through her folds. She cried out, pushing back against his hand. “Tell me you want it.”
“I want it,” she gasped, the words tumbling out. “I want you to fuck me, Leo. Right here. Now.”
A sharp sound of approval escaped him. He positioned himself, the broad head of his cock nudging against her entrance. He pushed in, one slow, devastating inch, filling her completely. They both moaned in unison, the sound swallowed by the silent room.
“Look,” he commanded, his rhythm starting with deep, deliberate strokes. “Look at us.” In the window’s reflection, Maya saw it—his powerful form curved over her, his hands gripping her hips, her own face flushed with ecstasy. It was the most explicit, beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The exhibitionism sent a shock of heat through her veins.
“That’s it,” he grunted, his pace quickening, each thrust hitting a spot that made her vision blur. “Take it. You’re mine. Let go for me.”
The tension coiled impossibly tight inside her snapped. Her climax crashed over her in a silent, screaming wave, her body clamping around him, milking his length. Feeling her fall apart pushed him over the edge. With a raw shout, he drove into her one last time, his release pulsing deep within her, hot and endless.
They slumped against the wall, his body a heavy, comforting weight on hers, his breath hot on her neck. The city lights twinkled, indifferent witnesses to their shattered control.
Chapter 5
The cool glass of the window still kissed Maya’s flushed skin, but Leo was already moving. With a strong, tender arm around her waist, he guided her gently away from the view, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind her ear.
“Easy,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble against her skin. “Let me take care of you now.”
He led her to the thick, plush rug in the center of the living room. “Lie down on your stomach for me,” he instructed softly, helping her to her knees and then easing her down. The soft wool was a welcome contrast to the hard surface they’d just left. Leo knelt beside her, his hands coming to rest on the small of her back, right where her dress was still bunched.
“You were so perfect for me against that window,” he whispered, his fingers beginning to work the zipper of her dress down with deliberate slowness. “So brave. So beautiful. Let me see all of you.”
He peeled the damp dress from her shoulders, down her arms, and off completely, leaving her in only her lace panties. The air was cool, but his gaze was a brand. His hands, warm and sure, started at her shoulders, kneading the tension away with firm, circular strokes.
“Your skin is like silk,” he breathed, his palms sliding down her spine. He traced every vertebra, each pass of his hands moving lower, wider, until he was cupping the full, generous curves of her ass. He squeezed gently, worshipfully. “God, these curves. I dream about these curves.”
His touch became more exploratory, more intimate. His fingers traced the sensitive line where her thigh met her buttock, and Maya shivered, a soft moan escaping into the rug.
“That’s it,” he praised, his voice thick with admiration. “Let me hear you. Your body speaks to me so perfectly.” He hooked his thumbs into the sides of her panties and drew them down her legs, leaving her completely bare to his touch and his gaze.
He reached for a bottle of oil from a nearby shelf, warming a generous amount in his palms. The first slick contact of his hands on her lower back made her gasp. He spread it slowly, thoroughly, his palms gliding over the swell of her hips, down to the backs of her thighs.
“Every part of you responds to me,” he whispered, leaning close, his lips almost touching her ear. His hands slid between her thighs, not to penetrate, but to massage the incredibly soft, inner skin. “See how you tremble? How your skin flushes right under my palms? Your body knows mine. It opens for me. It’s the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
One hand slid up, over the slope of her ass, his fingers venturing into the warm, damp cleft between her cheeks, tracing her with a feather-light, teasing pressure that made her arch off the floor. “And here,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky, possessive register. “So wet. So ready. Just from my hands on you. Just from my voice. Tell me, Maya. Tell me how it feels.”
“It feels… like you’re everywhere,” she managed to say, her voice muffled and strained with pleasure. “Like you’re pulling the pleasure right out of my skin.”
“That’s because it’s yours to give,” he said, his fingers continuing their maddening, slick circles just outside her entrance, coating her with oil and her own arousal. “And I’m just lucky enough to be the one you’re giving it to.” He leaned down, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the base of her spine, his hands never ceasing their tender, relentless exploration, mapping every inch of her as if committing her to memory.
Chapter 6
His words landed like a physical touch, harsher than any grip. Maya’s body went utterly still beneath his slick, massaging hands, the pleasure of moments before freezing into a brittle shell.
“What?” The word was a sharp exhale, muffled by the rug.
Leo’s hands stopped moving, resting possessively on the swell of her ass. His voice was low, stripped of its earlier seduction, filled with a grim certainty. “I’ve seen him, Maya. Three times, at least. Working late, his office door not quite closed. The angle from the supply closet… it’s a direct line to his monitor.” He drew a slow, apologetic circle on her skin with his thumb. “It was your professional headshot the first time. Then that picture from the ropes course at the team-building retreat, the one where you’re laughing, your shirt clinging a little.”
A violent shiver racked her. “That… that sick fuck.” Her voice trembled with a fresh humiliation, deeper than the boardroom’s. Her image, her smile, used like that. It made her skin crawl.
“Look at me,” Leo commanded, his tone gentle but firm. He helped her turn over onto her back. Her blue eyes were wide, glistening with unshed tears of anger and violation. He cradled her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. “He didn’t reject our plan because it was weak. He rejected it because *I* was the one standing next to you. Because he saw you looking at *me* with that fire, and he knew it was real. It enraged him. It made him feel like a thief caught in the act.”
He leaned down, his lips a breath from hers. “He wants a fantasy he can control. A picture on a screen. What we have… he can’t touch this.” To punctuate his point, his hand slid down her body, his fingers finding her wet, swollen heat with unerring accuracy. He didn’t penetrate, just pressed the heel of his palm firmly against her, letting her feel the full, claiming weight of his touch. “This is real. This pulse, this heat… it’s for me. He’ll never have it. He’ll never have you.”
Maya’s back arched, a choked sound escaping her—part sob, part moan. The ugly truth he’d revealed twisted together with the intense physical claim he was staking. The violation morphed into a perverse fuel. “Make me forget him,” she pleaded, her hands coming up to clutch his shoulders, her nails digging in. “Make me so full of you there’s no room for his… his pathetic gaze.”
“Gladly,” Leo growled, his own control fraying. He shifted, kneeling between her thighs. He took himself in hand, his cock thick and eager, the head slick with pre-cum. He rubbed it through her drenched folds, coating himself in her, the obscene, wet sound loud in the quiet room. “You see this? This is what he’ll never get. This is what you give to me.”
He positioned himself, the blunt pressure at her entrance an electric promise. “You are mine, Maya. Every fucking curve, every sigh, every secret. Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she gasped, her hips rising to meet him. “Only yours.”
With a deep, possessive groan, he pushed forward, sheathing himself inside her in one slow, relentless stroke. The fullness was breathtaking, a perfect, hot reclaiming. He held himself there, buried to the hilt, his body trembling with the effort. “Now,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion and need, “let’s rewrite the ending. Together.”
Chapter 7
A dark, appreciative sound rumbled in Leo’s chest. His hands, slick with oil, slid from the small of her back to cup the perfect, bare swell of her ass. His thumbs traced the subtle lines left by the waxing process, mapping the exquisite smoothness of her skin.
“Do you have any idea what this does to me?” he murmured, his voice a low vibration against her spine. “Knowing you’re completely bare for me? That you prepared yourself, even before you knew you’d end up here?”
He shifted, gently guiding her to roll onto her back on the soft rug. His brown eyes, intense and hungry, drank in the sight of her—glowing from the massage, exposed, utterly his. He settled beside her, propped on an elbow, his gaze a physical caress.
“I want something,” he said, his fingers drifting to trace the inner seam of her thigh. “I want to watch you. I want to see your own hands on this beautiful skin, while I tell you every single dirty, secret thought I’ve had about you at work.”
Maya’s breath caught. The command was intimate and exposing in a new way. Her blue eyes locked with his, searching for the playful glint within the intensity. She found it. A slow, curious smile touched her lips. “Tell me,” she whispered, a challenge and an invitation.
Her own hand slid down her stomach, fingers trembling slightly before they found her slick, swollen heat. A soft gasp escaped her as she made contact, her eyes fluttering shut for a second before forcing them open to hold his gaze.
Leo’s jaw tightened, watching her fingers begin a slow, tentative circle. “The first time,” he began, his voice rough, “was in the budget meeting. You were wearing that grey pencil skirt. You leaned over the table to point at a spreadsheet, and it tightened across your ass. All I could think about was bending you over that conference table, hiking that skirt up, and finding out if you were as smooth as I dreamed you were.”
Maya moaned, her fingers pressing deeper, mirroring the image he painted. “Leo…”
“Then there was last Thursday,” he continued, his hand coming to rest on her thigh, a warm, heavy anchor. “You were at the copier, frustrated it was jammed. You bent down, and your blouse gaped. I saw the lace edge of your bra. I stood there, pretending to check my phone, and all I wanted to do was walk over, slip my hand inside that blouse, and pinch your nipple until you gasped right there in the silent hallway.”
Her hips lifted off the rug, her rhythm becoming less tentative, more urgent. The explicit confessions were a potent aphrodisiac, each one stoking the fire he’d built with his hands. “More,” she pleaded, her voice strangled.
“This morning,” he growled, leaning closer, his breath hot on her cheek. “You brought me coffee. Your fingers brushed mine. I sat at my desk for an hour with a fucking hard-on, imagining you under it, taking me in your mouth while I pretended to take notes on a conference call. I pictured your lips, stretched and glossy, and wondered what sounds you’d try to swallow.”
Maya cried out, her back arching, her fingers working in frantic, wet circles. The visual was too vivid, his words too precise. She was hurtling towards a peak, her body taut as a bowstring, her world narrowing to his voice and her own touch.
Leo watched, mesmerized, his own need a painful, demanding throb. He saw the flutter in her stomach, the desperate chase in her movements. He didn’t touch her, letting her ride the wave of his confessions alone, letting her feel the power of his gaze as she unraveled for him.
Chapter 8
Leo’s eyes burned into her, capturing every twitch and sigh as her climax crested and slowly receded. She was breathing heavily, her hand falling limp to her side, glistening. He leaned down and kissed her stomach, a slow, possessive press of his lips against her damp skin.
“Your turn,” Maya whispered, her voice husky with spent pleasure. She pushed herself up on her elbows, a new, daring light in her blue eyes. “You told me yours. Now I’ll tell you mine.”
A dark, intrigued smile touched his lips. He settled back, propped against the couch, his muscular frame relaxed yet thrumming with tension. His hand drifted to the waistband of his pants, his intent clear. “Tell me,” he commanded, his voice a low rasp.
Maya watched as he freed his cock, already thick and hard. Her breath hitched at the sight. “The first time,” she began, her gaze locked on his hand as it began a slow, deliberate stroke. “It was in the supply closet. We were both reaching for the same box of pens. You pressed behind me, your whole body against my back. I could feel you, even through our clothes. I had to go straight to the bathroom after. I was so wet, I was scared it would show through my skirt.”
A ragged groan escaped Leo. His strokes tightened, his thumb swiping over the head. “Fuck, Maya.”
“Then there was the team lunch,” she continued, emboldened by his reaction. Her own core clenched anew, watching him pleasure himself to her words. “You told that stupid joke, the one about the spreadsheet. You laughed, and that dimple appeared. I crossed my legs under the table, pressing them together just to feel the ache. I spent the entire afternoon distracted, fantasizing about sneaking under that table and taking you in my mouth while everyone else ate.”
“Jesus,” he gritted out, his hips lifting off the rug to meet his fist. The veins on his forearm stood out, his rhythm growing more urgent.
“And today,” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. She crawled closer, until she was kneeling beside him, her breath ghosting over his ear. “When you stood so close to me at the window after… after what we did. Your hand was on my hip, and you said, ‘Mine.’ Just that one word. I came back to my desk afterward, and I had to put my jacket in my lap. I was throbbing. I thought about you the whole damn day.”
Leo’s control shattered. A guttural sound was torn from his chest, his body bowing as he chased his release, spurred on by the vivid, secret admissions. His strokes became frantic, a slick, pumping rhythm that made Maya’s own body flush with renewed heat. She watched, utterly captivated, as the intensity gathered in the tight coil of his stomach, in the fierce set of his jaw. He was balanced on the very edge, every muscle taut with the effort of holding back, letting the pleasure build from her confessions alone.
Chapter 9
He finished with a ragged, satisfied groan, his release hot on his stomach. For a long moment, only their mingled breaths filled the room. Leo stood, his movements fluid, and disappeared into the kitchen. He returned with two glasses of water, handing one to Maya.
“Drink,” he said softly, his voice still rough.
She obeyed, the cool liquid a shock to her system. He watched her drink, his intense gaze tracing the line of her throat. After placing their glasses aside, he moved to a sleek wooden sideboard. He opened a drawer, the sound crisp in the quiet. When he turned back, two long, dark blue silk ties were draped over his hand.
Maya’s pulse, which had just begun to settle, surged again. “What are those for?” she whispered, though she already knew.
A playful, dangerous smile touched his lips. “A new game. A new kind of trust.” He walked back to her, the silk trailing from his fingers. “I want you there, on the rug, just like this.”
He knelt, his hands guiding her onto her back on the thick wool rug. The city lights painted faint stripes across her skin. He took her left wrist first, his touch firm but reverent. The cool silk whispered against her pulse point as he looped it, tying a secure but non-binding knot. He lifted her arm, attaching the other end to the sturdy leg of his heavy coffee table. He repeated the process with her right wrist, spreading her arms gently apart.
“Leo,” she breathed, testing the give. She was secured, but not painfully so. The sensation was one of utter exposure, of being beautifully presented.
“I’m here,” he murmured, his hands moving to her ankles. He lifted each one, the silk a soft caress against her skin as he tied her to the other table leg, leaving her open and utterly vulnerable before him. He sat back on his heels, his eyes devouring the sight. “Look at you. Completely mine. Now you have nowhere to go, nothing to do but feel.”
He leaned forward, his hands starting at her knees. “Every fantasy I had in that office,” he said, his voice a low hum of possession, “was about having you like this. Where I could take my time. Where you couldn’t pull away.”
His palms smoothed up her inner thighs, parting them further. His thumbs traced the sensitive skin there, just shy of where she ached. Maya whimpered, arching her back, the silk at her wrists tightening slightly.
“Tell me what you feel,” he commanded, his breath hot against her stomach.
“I feel… open,” she gasped. “I feel every place your eyes land like a touch. I’m throbbing, Leo. It’s so much.”
“Good,” he growled. He lowered his head, but instead of his mouth, he used his chin, the rough stubble grazing the soft skin of her inner thigh. He kissed a searing path upward, his lips and teeth leaving faint marks, moving with agonizing slowness towards her core. He was everywhere, his hands, his mouth, his words, and she was held fast, swimming in a rising tide of sensation with no shore in sight.
Chapter 10
The thrill of being bound, so utterly displayed, made Maya moan without him even touching her. The sound was low and involuntary, vibrating in the quiet room. She flexed her wrists against the silk, savoring the delicious constraint. Her entire world narrowed to the space between her tethered limbs and Leo’s watchful, burning eyes.
“You like being put on display for me, don’t you?” Leo’s voice was a dark caress. He remained kneeling between her legs, his gaze a physical weight on her exposed skin. “You like knowing I can look my fill.”
“Yes,” she breathed, her own boldness surprising her. The words tumbled out, fueled by the vulnerability. “I love it. I love knowing you’re seeing every part of me. That you own every inch.”
A feral grin touched his lips. “Tell me what you want me to see.”
Her heart hammered against her ribs. “Look at my pussy,” she said, the crude word sending a sharp jolt through her. “See how wet I am for you. Just from the ties. Just from your eyes on me.”
He groaned, a sound of pure want. “Fuck, Maya. I see it. It’s glistening. It’s begging.” His hands came up to rest on her inner thighs, not moving, just holding her open. “And what do you want my mouth to do?”
“Taste me,” she demanded, arching her back. “Use your tongue. Make me scream so loud the whole fucking city knows who I belong to.”
“My greedy girl,” he murmured, leaning down. His breath was hot against her. “You talk so dirty when you’re tied up. It makes me want to ruin you.” He didn’t use his tongue immediately. Instead, he blew a soft, cool stream of air across her sensitized flesh, making her cry out and strain against her bonds.
“Please, Leo,” she begged, the dialogue a fiery loop between them.
“Please what?” he teased, his lips brushing her inner thigh.
“Lick me. Suck my clit. Make me come on your face while I’m tied to this table.”
His control shattered. With a growl, he buried his face between her legs, his tongue lashing her in a flat, demanding stroke. The sensation was blinding, amplified tenfold by her helpless position. He alternated broad strokes with pinpoint flicks, his hands gripping her hips to hold her still as she writhed.
“That’s it,” he growled against her, the vibration exquisite. “Moan for me. Let me hear how much you need it.”
She obeyed, cries pouring from her as he worked her with relentless focus. The climax built, a terrifying wave, but he slowed, pulling back just as she teetered on the edge, leaving her gasping and empty.
“Not yet,” he whispered, kissing her trembling stomach. “We’re just getting started.”