21. Cora
Chapter twenty-one
Cora
“ S o, what’s the latest with you and the big boss man?” Nathan asks, spearing a piece of lettuce.
We’re working through our lunch break at my desk, tying up loose ends for the leadership training session later this afternoon. Since my presentation went off without a hitch, I’ve settled into a more comfortable rhythm at work. It’s gratifying to see my three-step plan rolling out. First up: modern leadership training for department heads and upper management.
“Well, he’s finally gotten his head out of his ass,” I deadpan, not glancing away from my computer screen.
Nathan chokes on his salad, eyes bulging as I pat him on the back. “I swear, one of these days, you’re going to make me die laughing. That’ll be on your conscience, Rossi.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re a hazard in the office, you know that?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waves me off, taking a sip of water. “At least I’ll die entertained.”
The truth is, James has changed. The man who looked at me with nothing but suspicion and icy restraint has softened—though I’m not sure if it’s due to the success of my presentation or what happened between us at Eden. Either way, the tension between us has shifted into something else. Something much more intimate.
I want to drop to my knees for him when he glances my way with that all-consuming heat in his eyes. I am stupidly attracted to this man.
Heat floods my cheeks, and I squirm in my chair.
“Your blush tells me there’s more to the story here.” Nathan points his salad fork at me with narrowed eyes.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I lie, quickly biting into my sandwich.
“Fine, fine. Keep all the juicy goss to yourself. Just so you know, though, I’m living vicariously through you.”
I smile, fighting the urge to spill. There’s no way I can tell Nathan about what happened between James and me at Eden. The memory of submitting to him in front of Dameon still burns, both thrilling and mortifying.
Nathan picks up on my silence and, with an intentional smirk, drops the subject.
“Hey, do you think this is the right approach for the second training session?” I ask, scrolling through the outline on my computer.
Nathan leans over my desk, reviewing the document. “Looks good to me, but you might want to add a segment on conflict resolution. You know how the execs love those buzzwords.”
I nod, making a mental note. “You’re right. Good catch.”
“Anytime.” He shoots me a wink. “Teamwork makes the dream work, Rossi.”
Nathan might joke around, but he never lets me down when it comes to work. I’m lucky to have him in my corner.
We finish our lunch in relative quiet, the upcoming session looming over us both.
As the time nears, I head to James’s office to make sure he shows. Portia looks up from her computer as I arrive and gives me a reassuring nod. “He’s aware of the training,” she says, lips quirking. “It’s blocked off in his calendar.”
I let out a small laugh. “Thank you.” We both know he would totally blow it off.
Pushing open the door to his office, I step inside quietly. James looks up from behind his desk, his hardened features softening as his eyes land on me.
“Are you here to escort me, Cora?” he asks, his tone teasing, but there’s a glint in his eyes—an undercurrent of dominance that always makes my core clench.
“Just making sure you come,” I reply, the words tumbling out before I realize the double entendre. My cheeks flame, and I wish I could take it back.
His lips curve up in that infuriatingly sexy grin that weakens my knees. “Oh, my sweet slut, thank you for looking out for my needs.”
His eyes sweep over my body like a physical touch, igniting a fire under my skin that instantly dampens my panties.
Just like that, I’m undone.
He crooks a finger, beckoning me closer. “Come here.” His voice is like silk, dangerous and tempting, draping over me.
My body obeys before my mind catches up. Without thinking, I take a step forward, my heels clicking softly on the marble floor. The space between us crackles with electricity. As I approach, his eyes darken, filling with that familiar hunger that sets my body alight.
He picks up a small remote, aiming it at the door. The soft whirr of the frosted glass walls sliding into place fills the room, followed by the solid click of the door locking. We’re completely alone.
The air shifts. The dynamic between us is undeniable, the power exchange evident.
“Are you wet for me?”
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry, and nod.
“Show me,” he demands.
With shaky hands, I lift the hem of my skirt, letting the fabric bunch around my waist. The cool air hits my bare skin as I slide my thong down my legs, stepping out of it with deliberate care.
James picks up the scrap of lace, bringing it to his face and inhaling deeply. His eyes close as he savors the scent. “You smell fucking incredible.”
My breath falters. I perch myself on the edge of his desk, leaning back on my elbows for balance. I spread my legs, placing my heels on the armrests of his chair, completely baring myself to him. The cold surface of the glass desk against my skin is an exquisite contrast to the heat building inside me.
His eyes, dark with hunger, sweep over my exposed pussy. He leans forward, trailing two fingers up my inner thigh, grazing my slick heat. He dips them inside me briefly before pulling them out, bringing them to his mouth. His eyes roll back as he sucks my essence from his fingers. “Delicious,” he growls.
The low, guttural sound makes my pussy clench. Hard.
“I love how wet you get for me. So responsive.” He thrusts his fingers back into me, then slides them out, offering them to my lips. “Taste yourself,” he commands. “Taste how sweet you are.”
I open my mouth, obedient, and wrap my lips around his fingers, swirling my tongue, cherishing the taste. I close my eyes, imagining it’s his cock instead.
The cold glass beneath me does little to quench the fire burning between my legs. The thrill of being so exposed, of being watched, heightens every sensation.
I’m lost in the moment, my mind consumed by his touch, but then his phone rings, cutting through the haze like a sharp blade.
James’s expression hardens as he reclines back in his chair. “Don’t move.”
I freeze, every muscle in my body tense, as he answers the phone. His eyes never leave my body, locked onto the sight of me spread open before him. As the seconds tick by, I start to squirm, my desire slowly dripping down my thighs and pooling beneath me. My hips shift, seeking relief.
His eyes flick up to mine, a warning passing through them. Not an inch , his lips mouth.
I bite my lip, forcing myself to still, the tension between us growing unbearable. I struggle to focus on his conversation. My body aches for his touch, to finish what he started.
With the phone still pressed to his ear, he leans forward and runs his tongue up the length of my slit. The sensation is too much. I gasp, my hands gripping the edge of the desk, trying and failing to keep quiet.
“I’ll have to call you back.” James’s voice comes out muffled with his face buried in my pussy. I’m struggling to remain quiet as his words vibrate against my core and he hangs up just before I let out a loud breathy moan.
James dives in deeper, sucking my clit into his mouth, and I cry out. The anticipation, the denial, has built to the point that it only takes a few more strokes of his tongue before I explode, my body convulsing against his face as the orgasm rips through me. The room fades and I arch my spine, throwing my head back.
James’s lips linger on my thighs as I come down from the high, every inch of me throbbing. The world feels like it’s tilting, as though every sense has been heightened and sharpened by him. His mouth is still wet from me, his breath hot on my skin, and all I want is to keep him there. To stay in this haze. He pulls back, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, a self-satisfied grin firmly in place.
“Good girl,” he murmurs.
Never in a million years would I have thought I had a praise kink, but sure enough, every time he says “good girl,” I melt into a puddle.
I can’t believe we just did that on his desk.
I blink, the reality of what just transpired crashing over me. We’re at work. In his office. He’s my boss.
My heart pounds for an entirely different reason now. I jump off the desk, smoothing down my skirt as panic creeps in. “Shit! They’ve probably already started.” I glance at the clock, my heart sinking.
James pushes his chair back. There’s a smug glint in his eyes as he drags his fingers through his tousled hair like he has all the time in the world.
“They’ll wait.” He shrugs, as though what we shared hadn’t been both dangerous and delicious. “They’ll survive without us for a few minutes.”
“That was insane,” I whisper under my breath, trying to pull myself together. My hands are shaking. “We’re at work, James.”
I struggle to catch my breath. The adrenaline is still running through my veins, but the reality of what we just did is quickly sobering me up.
I hold my hand out, palm up, waiting for him to return my thong. “Please?”
He arches an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he slips my panties into his pocket. “Not a chance.”
I blink, the flush creeping back up my neck. “James—”
“No panties for you.” His voice is firm, final. He’s already back in control. “If I have to sit through this session with a hard-on, bored out of my mind, I want your panties in my pocket and the taste of you on my tongue.”
My mouth goes dry, heat flooding me all over again. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.” He stands, buttoning his suit jacket, looking entirely too composed. Like he wasn’t just buried between my legs two minutes ago.
“I want you to sit there, wet and sticky, a constant reminder of where my mouth has just been.”
My pulse leaps at his words. But there’s no time to argue, and the way his eyes are burning into me says that I wouldn’t win this fight anyway.
I take a breath, trying to focus. I can do this. It’s just a leadership training session. Simple. Professional. Easy.
But as James walks around the desk, his hand brushing my arm, I realize nothing about this is going to be simple.
“Let’s go, Cora.” He presses lightly at the small of my back, guiding me toward the door. “We don’t want to keep them waiting too long, do we?”
I exhale shakily, nodding as I follow his lead. What just happened hangs in the air like a fog, and I can’t help but feel we’ve blurred a line we were never meant to cross.
The door swings open, and the cool air outside his office is like a slap to my flushed skin. I take a calming breath, trying to compose myself as I walk beside him, my heels clicking against the floor.
The walk down the hall to the elevator feels longer than usual, each step reminding me that I’m bare underneath my skirt, vulnerable. Each step is a reminder of the intensity between us, still lingering like a touch I can’t brush off.
I can’t believe he’s making me go through with this.
We reach the boardroom, and I’m grateful it’s already full. Everyone is seated, their eyes glued to their laptops or notebooks, oblivious to what just transpired. I slide into a seat at the back, the cold chair sending a jolt through me as I settle in, painfully aware of the dampness between my legs.
James takes the seat next to me, perfectly composed, as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. I, on the other hand, am going to combust any second.
Nathan catches my eye from across the room, his smile easy as usual. He waves, and I force myself to smile back, hoping it doesn’t look as strained as it feels.
You alright? he mouths, raising an eyebrow.
I give him a quick nod, knowing full well that I am anything but alright. My mind is stuck on the fact that James is sitting so close, his knee brushing against mine under the table. His presence is so potent I can sense his gaze on me even when I’m not looking.
The session begins and I try to focus on the speaker, but my thoughts keep drifting. Every shift in my seat, every subtle movement reminds me of the fact that I’m sitting here, completely bare under my skirt, while James watches me like a hawk.
He leans in close, and whispers against my ear. “What are you thinking about?”
My breath catches in my throat. “James—”
“I bet you’re dripping for me right now.” His tone is dark, teasing, his lips so close that they almost brush my earlobe as he speaks. “Aren’t you, Ms. Rossi?”
I swallow hard, squeezing my thighs together in a feeble attempt to find some relief, but it only makes it worse. The pressure coils tighter, the heat spreading through me like a blazing inferno.
I glance around, praying no one notices the flush creeping up my neck, the way my body betrays me with every word he speaks.
Nathan shoots me a curious look from across the table. I force another smile, hoping it’ll be enough to satisfy him.
James, of course, is completely composed, acting like it’s just another meeting. But the hand he rests on my knee beneath the table tells a different story. His fingers slide up my thigh, the touch barely there but enough to drive me to the edge.
I grip the table, knuckles white as I struggle to keep my breathing even.
“You’ll thank me later,” he whispers, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin at the top of my thigh, dangerously close to where I need him most.
I bite my lip, trying to hold back the whimper threatening to escape, the world around me disappearing into the background. All I can focus on is James. His touch. His control.
But then the session wraps, and just like that, the room begins to stir. Laptops close, people shuffle papers, and I realize with a sudden rush of panic that it’s over.
I stand, my legs shaky, my mind still reeling.
James rises beside me, his expression unreadable as he slips his hand into his pocket.
“Well,” he says, that damn grin back on his face, “that was enlightening.”
I glance at him, my cheeks burning, and mutter, “You’re impossible.”
He leans in, his lips close to my ear once more. “And you love it.”
Before I can respond, he turns and strides out of the room like he owns the place.
And damn it, he does.