Chapter 28 #2
So why is my heart not getting the memo?
The gala finally winds down, and I can breathe again. My cheeks ache from smiling, my feet are screaming in these heels, and if I have to shake one more hand and engage in any more small talk, I might combust.
When we slip out the back exit, the night air hits my overheated skin. The driver is waiting by the curb. Worth’s hand finds my back once more.
The door opens and I slide inside, exhaling in relief. The moment Worth follows me in, the door thuds shut. He signals for the driver to move with a clipped nod, then reaches forward and slides the privacy partition up in one smooth motion.
Before I can ask what he’s doing, he pivots suddenly, capturing my mouth in a bruising kiss.
I squeak in shock, but it’s swallowed immediately by the hungry drag of his tongue. His kiss is rough, unyielding, as if he’s been starving for me all night.
My stomach free-falls like I’ve just stepped off the edge of a cliff.
“Worth—” I try, breaking the kiss, breathless. “We shouldn’t.”
My protest sounds pitiful even to my own ears, especially when my hands are fisted in his jacket, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.
The next thing I know, he’s sliding off the seat and onto his knees.
Onto his knees in his goddamn car.
“Worth,” I hiss, looking towards the tinted windows. “What are you doing? We’re going to get caught.”
But he doesn’t stop. His big hands are already curling under my dress, dragging me forward until my ass is at the very edge of the leather seat. His eyes lift to mine, blazing and hungry, and my entire body trembles.
“Say the word and I’ll stop,” he rasps, lips brushing over my throat, along my collarbone, scorching everywhere they touch. “But don’t lie to me, Mya. You want this as much as I do.”
My nails scrape over his shoulders as he leans down, desperate for an anchor. “I don’t—”
Worth’s teeth nip my thigh and I jolt, a sharp gasp ripping from my mouth.
“Don’t lie to me, Kitten.”
“This is a bad idea, Worth,” I babble, my head tipping back against the seat as his mouth moves, hot and wet against the inside of my thigh. “We’ll regret this. We have an agreement. This is—oh God—this is only a recipe for disaster.”
A whimper escapes me, humiliatingly loud in the enclosed space. My thighs clench and my chest heaves.
“I’ve been craving you since Singapore,” he growls, voice muffled against my skin. “Couldn’t get the sound of you falling apart out of my head. Couldn’t get your taste off my tongue.”
His hands grip me tighter, keeping me in place—one spreading my thighs wider, the other pressed firmly on my hip. My arguments tangle in my throat, dissolving into incoherence the second his hot breath fans over where I need him.
And then his mouth is on me.
“Worth—” My protest splinters into a scream as he sucks my clit, hard, pulling it between his lips and flicking with maddening precision. My back bows off the leather seat, fingers clawing for purchase in his hair as pleasure detonates low in my belly.
This feels so wrong. It shouldn’t be happening. God, maybe that’s why it feels so good.
I’ve been craving him too, even when I told myself I shouldn’t.
Even when I tried to shove every thought of him into the farthest corner of my mind.
Because what happens if I fall? If I let feelings get tangled in this mess and end up heartbroken?
Would I even survive the humiliation of seeing him every day at the office after that?
No. I’d have to quit. Pack my life up. Move across the damn country just to get away.
He must notice my head spinning, my chest rising too fast, because his voice cuts through the chaos.
“Mya.” His lips brush my folds. “Baby. Focus on me. Let me make you feel good.”
His tongue alternates between soft, lazy swirls that make me melt, and greedy strokes that have me on the edge of madness. He sucks me like he wants to own me, devour me whole, and each drag of his mouth makes my body shake harder.
“You were so beautiful tonight,” he murmurs between licks, his words hot against my soaked flesh. “Having you on my arm… introducing you as my woman…” He groans like the memory alone is enough to wreck him. “It did something to me, Mya.”
Those words—my woman. I tried to tell myself it was all just part of the act. But here, with his tongue buried inside me and his voice laced with hunger, it feels like the most dangerous truth I’ve ever heard.
The pleasure is unbearable in the best way, each lick and suck a punishment and reward all at once. My thighs tremble, but Worth just grips me harder, spreading me wider, as if he wants to consume every last bit of me.
“Worth.” I gasp his name for the umpteenth time, fingers twisting in his hair. “I—God, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. Give it to me, baby. Come for me.”
He doubles down, tongue pressing in deep while his lips close over my clit, sucking with merciless precision. The combination shatters me. My body bows off the seat, a scream tearing from my throat.
I ride it out on his mouth, his groans sending aftershocks through my overstimulated nerves until I collapse back against the leather, panting and boneless. Still, he doesn’t move, licking me softly, savoring every last drop.
Finally, he pulls back, his mouth glistening. He wipes the back of his hand over his lips but doesn’t look away from me—like I’m the only thing in the world worth seeing.
“Fuck, Mya. You taste like sin.”
Heat floods my face. My heart is pounding so loud I’m sure he hears it.
When he climbs back onto the seat beside me, he kisses me, letting me taste myself on his tongue.
It’s filthy, but I kiss him back anyway, like I don’t care that we’re crossing a line that’s already been crossed a hundred times in my head.
Worth leans back and slips a hand into his jacket, pulling out his pocket square. He glances at the seat between my thighs.
“You made a mess, Kitten.”
I follow his gaze to the evidence pooling on the leather. Mortified, I shift, but he presses a hand on my thigh, stopping me.
“Don’t.” He crouches slightly, dragging the square of fabric over the wet patch until it’s soaked. Then, without shame, he lifts it to his face and inhales.
My mortification spikes. “Oh my God—”
He cuts me off with a groan, eyes closing. “Goddamn, you smell so good. Do you know what this does to me?” His gaze pins me, raw and unflinching. “I’m keeping this. Forever. I’ll never wash it. Every time I wake up, I want to breathe you in. Remind myself that you’re mine.”
And he might be right.