Chapter 37
WORTH
Sometimes a woman just needs to be grabbed by the throat, spun around, bent over, and punished for being a fucking brat.
And right now, I’m a millisecond away from shoving Mya’s face into my desk and penetrating her so deeply, she’ll have to admit that she’s jealous.
Her sharp tongue and that unwarranted attitude need to be dealt with.
I spin her around and press her onto the table, my body crowding hers until her palms grab onto the polished wood. My cock grinds against the curve of her ass, and she lets out a soft, helpless moan that goes straight to my core.
Then awareness flashes across her face as she remembers the glass walls. “Worth,” she hisses. “The blinds are open.”
I turn to see Shaina still standing there, her mouth agape as she watches us.
“Good,” I murmur against Mya’s ear, my voice low and rough. She squirms, testing my hold.
“I want everyone to see who you belong to, Mya. Let them remove any doubt that I have eyes on anyone but you.”
She writhes beneath me, her voice trembling. “I told you, I don’t belong to anyone,” she spits, fighting for composure more than freedom.
“I beg to fucking differ, wife,” I growl. “You became mine the moment you signed those papers and changed your name.”
“It’s only temporary. Just for now,” Mya snaps back.
“Just for now,” I echo darkly, my grip tightening on her hip, “is still now. Until we go our separate ways, you’re my wife, Mya, and you’re going to start acting like it.”
“No.”
My pulse spikes. The sound of that word cuts through me like a dare. My hand flexes against her hip, the muscle in my jaw ticking as I lean closer until my breath fans her neck.
“No? You really want to test me right now?”
Movement beyond the glass catches my eye. A few people have stopped to gawk, Dre among them, wide-eyed and horrified as she frantically waves everyone away from the corridor.
I release my hold on Mya’s neck, sliding my palm down her spine, tracing the soft curve of her dress until I reach the hem. I lift the fabric just enough to expose one perfect cheek hidden from view.
Mya gasps, her body going still beneath my touch.
My hand roams her thigh, savoring the tremor that runs through her before I bring my palm down in a controlled slap against her ass. The sound cracks through the office, echoing off the glass walls like a warning shot.
“One,” I count.
Her eyes snap up. “One?”
I tilt my head, a smirk tugging at my mouth. “You think I’ve forgotten how many times you’ve given me attitude? A slap for every bratty comment you’ve made.”
“Worth,” she breathes. “We can’t do this here.”
“I can do whatever I want,” I murmur, pressing closer until she can feel the weight of my control in every word. “My company. My building. My office.”
She rolls her eyes, still defiant even now. “So humble.”
I chuckle darkly. My palm comes down again.
“Two.” Then I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear.
“Bold of you to keep mouthing off while I’m punishing you.
Though let’s be honest…” I drag in a slow breath, letting it fan across her neck.
“I doubt this even feels like punishment. Not when I can smell how fucking turned on you are, Kitten.”
My hand comes down again, sharper this time. “Three.”
Mya lets out a small, startled sound that becomes breathier. I rub the spot with my palm, coaxing her to breathe through it.
Then another slap. “Four.”
She moans, and my control wavers, a dark thrill crawling through my veins.
“That’s it. Good girl.”
Her shoulders rise and fall in quick bursts, the tension between us tightening until the silence feels heavy enough to break.
“I’ve given you time to settle into your new role, Mya. Now, you have to understand exactly what it means.”
I can feel her pulse fluttering beneath my touch.
“Tell me,” I whisper, the words more command than question. “Tell me you want this.”
Mya nods, breath catching in her throat.
“Words, Kitten.”
Her eyes meet mine. “Yes,” she breathes. “I want this.”
That’s all I need to hear.
The outside world falls away until it’s just her and me, locked in a current neither of us can escape. I reach past her for the remote on my desk and, with one click, the blinds slide shut, cutting off the curious stares and flooding the office with darkness.
“No one gets to see this side of you. Only me.” I rest my hands on the desk on either side of her, caging her in. “You almost made me forget where we were.”
Mya’s lips part like she wants to argue, but she doesn’t. Instead, she surrenders, and I know I have her attention completely.
I loosen my belt and unbuckle my pants, reaching down my briefs to pull out my aching cock. I need to finally feel Mya wrapped around me.
After almost having her on our wedding night, I’ve been a restless, desperate mess, caught somewhere between restraint and need. I’ve been waiting for her to be ready, refusing to push past the line she keeps drawing between us.
There haven’t been any kisses or touches outside of the ones we fake for the cameras, and it’s driving me insane. Every time she walks past me, every time she laughs—it’s another test of how far I can stretch my self-control before it snaps.
Now, watching her on my desk, breath unsteady, squirming beneath me, I know there’s no coming back from this.
I pull her head up by the strands of her hair and bring her mouth to mine, tasting defiance on her lips. God, it does something to me. Lights me up from the inside out.
I slip two fingers past the string of Mya’s thong, right above her wet heat, and pull, snapping the fabric in half.
Her breath comes faster, a sound caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan.
With the pad of my thumb, I roll the bead of precum around the head of my dick, and bring my length to her entrance, teasing her with small strokes.
“Worth,” she whimpers.
“Yes, pretty girl?”
“Please.”
I’ve spent weeks fighting this, keeping distance, pretending that we’re nothing but business, when every cell in me knows otherwise.
“Tell me what you need, baby.”
Mya says my name again, voice breaking, and the sound settles in my chest, like a prayer I don’t deserve.
“I need you to fuck me. Please.”
I grab onto her hair tighter, pressing her face back onto the desk while I push inside her to the hilt. A broken shout escapes her.
“Worth. You’re so big. I can’t—”
“You fucking can,” I growl. “Your pussy was made for me, Kitten, and you’ll take every inch.”
“Slow… down…” she tries to say, but she chokes on her words when I smack her ass.
Smack. Five.
“Ah, fuck!” Mya screams, her back arching.
“You’re doing good, baby. Just breathe. If you need me to stop, tap on my leg. Okay?”
Mya nods.
Then, I fuck my wife with fast, punishing thrusts, the tension finally lifting from my chest.
Mya’s hands clutch at the edge of my desk; mine tighten on her hips.
Thrust.
Smack. Smack. Six. Seven.
Mya yelps, her knuckles whitening against the polished wood.
“Good fucking girl,” I whisper against her temple. I can feel how close she is from the way her pussy is clenching around my cock.
Thrust.
Smack. Eight.
Mya is trembling, tears slipping down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry, baby. Can you give me two more?” I lift her to me and lick them away, rough and reverent all at once.
She nods, and I move again, fucking her into oblivion, my own release building fast, threatening to drag me under.
Smack. Nine.
“Come for me, pretty girl.”
Mya’s voice breaks. “Oh, God… I’m right there. Don’t stop.”
The words motivate me like a spark to tinder. One last slap tears through the air, echoing off the glass walls, and I know anyone passing by can hear. But at this moment, I don’t care.
The world narrows to her moans, and when the cord finally breaks, Mya orgasms and I follow, everything in me unspooling at once until all that’s left is the sound of our ragged breathing and the wild rhythm of my pulse.
When it’s over, everything is quiet again.
I steady myself, brushing a damp strand of hair from Mya’s face. Her eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed. She looks both wrecked and radiant.
“Are you okay?”
She nods, still trying to catch her breath.
I press my forehead to her back. “You did so good for me, Kitten.”
I pull away, adjusting my tie like that might somehow fix the chaos between us.
“We should… clean up,” Mya mutters, exhaling a shaky laugh, tugging her dress back into place. “Before Dre passes out in the hallway.”
The faint humor cracks something open in my chest. She’s closed herself off again.
But as she turns toward the door, there is a truth that slams into me like a sucker punch.
Mya is mine—but only for now.
I shove the thought away before it can root too deep.