Chapter 3 #2
"The problem is, I don't want to forget about it. That kiss turned me on, Ember. And I've never been particularly good at self-control in situations where I want something."
Heat flooded my face until it felt like I was breathing lava.
I stood up so quickly it tipped my chair over, but I needed air.
And the space was so small, there was no way of getting around him without touching him.
It effectively left me pinned between him and the filing cabinet with burning cheeks and a swarm of butterflies in my gut.
"This is a bad idea," I whispered.
"Terrible idea," he agreed.
"We could both get in trouble."
"Almost certainly."
"Then why are we having this conversation?" I was breathless, betraying how fast my heart was beating.
He lifted one hand and brushed his knuckles along my jawline.
The touch was so gentle but it sent shockwaves through my body. "Because I want to kiss you again. Properly this time. Without the crowd and the cameras and the mistletoe. I want to know if you're as good a kisser as I think you are."
My knees felt weak. I pressed my hand flat on the wall behind me, trying to anchor myself. "And if I'm not?"
"Then I'll have my answer, and we can both move on." His thumb traced a slow path to my bottom lip, which he curled downward slightly before letting go. "But I don't think that's going to be the case."
Every instinct I had screamed at me to turn my head as he leaned in slowly, giving me time to change my mind.
But I didn't move.
I stayed frozen there with a racing pulse and sweaty palms, not even sure what the heck was happening.
The kiss on stage was just a tradition, but this was completely unexpected.
Dr. Bradley's lips brushed over mine while his eyes were still open, and I couldn't even blink.
I felt like a mouse corned with a cat ready to pounce.
And unlike the last kiss, there wasn't even a hint of formality or hesitation.
His fingers slid around my neck until they curled upward into my hair and tangled there, arching my head back so my jaw dropped open, and then the real fireworks came.
His lips parted, tongue searching me, and the sound he made—a cross between a growl and a groan—made every hair on my body stand at attention.
His free hand rested on my hip and gripped me hard, and I forgot how to breathe.
In fact, I forgot about anything—everything—other than his mouth moving against mine and the feel of arousal pulsing through every cell in my body.
"You're dangerous," he growled as he pulled away.
The storm in his eyes haunted me, the way a storm is both fierce and needed, and storm chasers put themselves in danger to get the best view knowing they could be killed.
"Why?" I breathed.
"Because now I want to do it again."
He was still so close I could taste it, his hand still on my hip, fingers still tangled in my hair.
"Then why did you stop?" I muttered quietly, feeling my inner desire finally spring to life.
His mouth crashed back onto mine with a hunger that stole my breath entirely.
His fingers tightened in my hair, pulling just enough to send a sharp thrill down my spine, and I surrendered to it without a fight.
The hand on my hip slid upward, tracing the curve of my waist before cupping my breast through my blouse.
I gasped into his kiss, and he took advantage, deepening it until our tongues were dancing together.
Dr. Bradley broke away only to trail his lips along my jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin there. "I'm sorry, Ember, but my God, you're delicious. All afternoon, you were distracting me. It's been hard to focus."
"Oh, God," I whimpered when he found my nipple and pinched hard.
He had no clue at all.
Hard to concentrate?
More like, impossible. "I'm going to regret this."
He chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that only made the goosebumps worse. "We might, but you're going to do exactly as I say, Ember. Understand?"
A shudder jolted through me and I nodded, my voice failing me.
Something inside me thrilled at the idea of submitting to him.
I couldn't put my finger on what it was, the dominance in his tone or the fact that he was so much older and probably way more experienced than me, but I instantly felt like his pet to follow orders as he pleased.
"Good girl," he praised, and those two words sent a rush of warmth through my core.
He released my hair and stepped back slightly, his gaze raking over my body. "Now, take off your blouse. Slowly."
My hands trembled while my mind raced, but I obeyed him.
I was going to get in so much trouble for this, probably be fired.
And somehow, despite all the negative things my brain threw at me, I still found the jacket draped over my chair and the silk shirt tossed on top of it.
Because the way he looked at me left me little choice but to comply with whatever he said.
"Now the skirt," he said, flicking his hand at my hips.
I unzipped it and let it pool at my feet, stepping out of it in my stockings and panties.
Standing there vulnerable, I felt exposed, but his appreciative groan made me bold. "Like what you see, Doc?" I teased, trying to inject some banter to steady my nerves. This was so far out of my comfort zone.
He smirked and narrowed his eyes as he moved closer again.
"Oh, Ms. Harrison, you have no idea. But watch that mouth of yours.
I'm the one giving orders here." His hands settled on my waist again and he positioned me by the desk, pushing me until I had no choice but to lift my hips and slide across it.
Papers shifted under me, a few fluttering to the floor, but the sound barely registered over the thud of my heart.
I perched there, legs dangling, feeling the cool wood against my bare thighs.
His body pressed between them and there was no mistaking his hard bulge, which he intentionally ground on my inner thigh.
"What now, Boss?" Just saying the words felt wrong, so uncomfortable, but they seemed to get him going. His smirk deepened and his grasp tightened.
"Now, you keep those hands where they are. No touching until I say." He reached behind me, unhooking my bra with a single flick, and let it fall away.
The air hit my skin, tightening my nipples into peaks that he immediately captured between his fingers, rolling them until I arched toward him involuntarily.
"Sensitive, aren't you? I like that."
A whine escaped my lips as he leaned down, replacing his fingers with his mouth on one breast, sucking and making pressure build low in my belly.
His other hand trailed down, slipping beneath the lace of my panties to find me already slick and ready.
He stroked along my folds, parting them to circle my clit like he knew what he was doing, and my God, it felt incredible.
"You're soaking, Ms. Harrison…" His voice was gravelly and deep, hot breath dusting my cheek before he nipped my ear.
"Oh, God," I whimpered, my hips bucking against his hand.
He pressed a finger inside me, then a second, curling them to hit that spot that made my vision blur.
The stretch was exquisite, and I clenched around him, chasing the friction.
"Good girl, such a good, good girl…" He pumped his fingers steadily, his thumb joining to rub my clit in tandem.
The dual sensation coiled tighter inside me, spreading like wildfire.
It took everything I had not to reach up and touch him.
I was trembling, caught in the waves of sensation when he said, "Come for me. That's an order," right in my ear, and it undid me.
I shattered almost immediately, the orgasm ripping through me in waves that left me gasping, my body trembling on the desk.
My head rolled back, jaw dropping, and I convulsed while he pleasured me.
He didn't stop, drawing it out until I was oversensitive and pleading.
Only then did he withdraw, licking his fingers clean with a satisfied hum that made my cheeks burn anew while I tried to catch my breath.
I heard the clink of his belt. It was what made me open my eyes and look at him, but the expression on his face was what had me spreading my knees, preparing to have him inside me.
"You want this, don't you? Say it."
"Yes, Boss. Please." I couldn't even understand myself.
There was no way he understood me.
But his response was another dark chuckle that had me clenching around nothing.
My core throbbed and physically ached, I was so turned on.
He hooked his fingers in my panties, sliding them down and off, then positioned himself at my entrance.
Apprehension hit me, and I stiffened as I realized we had no condom, but he said, "I'll pull out, Ms. Harrison. I promise."
Then his eyes met mine as he got serious for a brief moment, long enough for me to stop him, before he thrust in slowly, inch by inch, filling me completely.
The fullness bordered on too much, but it was perfect, stretching me in ways that made me moan.
He started with shallow thrusts, building rhythm, his hands gripping my hips to control the pace. "You feel incredible wrapped around me. So tight."
He angled deeper, hitting that same spot his fingers had found, and I wrapped my legs around him, urging him on.
The desk creaked under us, but the office walls seemed to muffle everything except our breaths and the slick sounds of our joining.
I reached for his shoulders, but he caught my wrists, pinning them behind me with one hand.
"I said no touching. Behave, or I'll stop."
The dominance in his voice sent another thrill through me, and I nodded, submitting fully.
He rewarded me by increasing his speed, pounding into me with a force that shook the desk.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, his silver hair disheveled now, and the sight of him losing control pushed me toward the edge again.
"Again," he commanded, releasing my wrists to grip my hip.
His thumb stretched out and pressed on my clit and I clamped down on his shaft. "Come on my cock this time."
The combination was overwhelming—his thrusts, his fingers, the way he filled me utterly.
It was so intense, I had no ability to control myself.
I came harder than before, convulsing around him in spasms that milked him as stars exploded behind my eyelids.
He groaned as his rhythm faltered, and for a split second, he thrust deeper instead of pulling back.
Warmth spilled inside me briefly before he withdrew, finishing on my thigh with a shuddering breath.
His hand stroked his length while I continued to twitch and jolt.
I let my head fall backward and my eyes fluttered shut while I let the relaxation grip every muscle in my body. That was incredible.
"Sorry," he panted. "Slipped a little there."
I laughed weakly, still floating in the afterglow, though a flicker of worry cut through it. "That wasn't exactly pulling out." Clinging onto the giddy feeling of post-sex pheromones, I lifted my head to look him in the eye.
I just had sex with my boss.
Not just any sex—unprotected sex, and oh, my God, was my best friend going to freak out.
His phone chimed as he buckled his belt in place, and he checked it then scowled.
I wasn’t sure what to say because what the heck do you say after something like that?
So I was glad when he blurted out, "I gotta go. I'm needed downstairs…" When he leaned forward and pulled me toward himself with one hand on my neck, I didn't protest.
The kiss was short and chaste, but I absorbed it. "We need to talk about this," he said gruffly.
Then he was gone, slipping out the door, careful to shield me from whoever may pass, and I was alone to obsess over what just happened.
And stew in regret and panic.