James
I gripped the steering wheel tighter than I needed to, leather groaning under my palms as the city lights slid past. My last meeting of the day had wrapped hours ago, but the conversations hadn’t left me.
Not the numbers, not the designs, not the bid.
No, what gnawed at me, what made my blood run hot and heavy, was her.
Calla.
She’d sat across that conference table, calm as ice, speaking sharp and polished, that kind of brilliance that cut men like me down to size without raising her voice.
My mind had no damn business drifting back to Provocateur, but it did.
To the way she commanded me there. The way she made me beg with my body, even while my mouth tried to hold on to pride.
No disgust in her eyes when she looked at me after; it was the opposite. She saw me. Too much.
And then there was Amiyah. Sweet, brown-skinned, all those curves wrapped in professionalism and dimples, leaning over plans with that husky laugh that rattled my chest. I wanted to press her against the wall of that boardroom and show her exactly what I meant when I said dominant.
I wasn’t proud of the way my mind kept running both directions, toward the sadist who broke me open and the woman I wanted to break in, but my dick didn’t have pride; it needed to be relieved.
The ache between my legs had been steady all day, pulsing harder every time I caught the silent current between the two of them.
Calla’s cool glances, Amiyah’s half-hidden smiles.
Sparks. And I was sitting right there in the middle, a fuse ready to blow.
By the time I turned onto my street, my jaw ached from clenching. My body was strung so damn tight I was ready to snap at the next red light. I needed release, bad.
But the sight waiting in my driveway knocked the breath out of me.
Calla.
She was climbing out of her sleek black car, heels clicking against the pavement, every movement deliberate.
The night air wrapped around her like smoke, her hair catching the faint glow of my porch light.
She didn’t look like the CEO right now. Didn’t look like the untouchable dominatrix either.
She looked like both, and neither, an enigma walking straight toward my door.
I killed the engine and sat there for half a beat, pulse hammering, watching her. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t glance around, didn’t even check if I was home. She just moved with purpose, hips swaying, heading for my steps like she belonged there.
My chest ached, my dick throbbed, and my balls felt tight.
And all I could think was, what the hell was about to happen?
I pushed the door open and stepped out before my brain had the sense to catch up with my body. My pulse was a steady hammer against my ribs, every nerve ending tuned to the sound of her heels striking the concrete path to my door.
“Calla.”
Her name left me like a confession, low and rough, and she stopped mid-step, turning her head just enough to catch me in the glow of the headlights.
For a second, she didn’t say a damn thing.
Just let her eyes travel over me like she was peeling off layers I hadn’t given permission to shed.
My tie was loose around my neck, my shirt sleeves rolled, my body wound tight enough that I knew she could see it, the hunger.
“You planning on inviting me in,” she said finally, voice smooth, “or should I just let myself in?”
That spark of dominance slid right under my skin, familiar and dangerous. My dick pulsed at the sound of it, at the memory of how she’d commanded me before, how she’d wrung every last shred of control out of me until all I had left was obedience and need.
I moved toward her, slow but deliberate, meeting her at the bottom of my steps. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
Her lips curled. “You rarely expect me, James.”
The way she said my name, too sharp to be tender, too intimate to be casual, sent a jolt through me.
I wanted to grip her by the waist, shove her against the door, and taste her mouth until neither of us could breathe.
At the same time, I wanted to drop to my knees and hand her every ounce of power I pretended to hold.
“Long day?” she asked, stepping closer until her perfume wrapped around me—dark, floral, commanding.
“You could say that,” I muttered, my voice already strained.
“Amiyah made it… interesting.” Her eyes caught mine, sharp as a blade.
My breath snagged. She’d seen it too, the energy humming between me and Amiyah. Of course, she had. Nothing slipped past her.
“You think I didn’t notice?” she asked softly, almost taunting. “The way you looked at her. The way she looked at you. The way we looked at her.”
My dick was rigid and throbbed so hard it hurt. “Calla…”
She reached up, fingertips grazing my jaw, her touch light but her gaze heavy. “You’re wound too tight, James. I can see it and feel it.” Her thumb slid along my bottom lip, a slow drag that had my knees damn near buckling. “Question is… are you going to let me help you unravel?”
The porch light buzzed overhead, the night air thick, and I knew right then I was past the point of no return.
Her thumb lingered at my lip until I opened the door, until I stepped aside like it was her house and not mine. She didn’t wait for permission. Calla slipped past me with that same air she carried everywhere, like the walls belonged to her, like I was hers.
I shut the door, the soft click of the lock echoing in the silence, and before I could turn, she was already there, pressed against me. Her body heat cut through my clothes, her scent flooding my head.
“You’ve been thinking about me all day,” she murmured against my ear.
I swallowed hard. “You know I have.”
Her laugh was low, dangerous. “And about her.”
The way she spoke about Amiyah made my dick throb and my balls tighten. My rigidity felt like it wanted to split through my slacks. I hated how easy it was for Calla to read me, how she picked at the threads I tried to keep tightly woven.
She pushed me back until my shoulders hit the wall.
Her fingers slid down my chest, slow, deliberate, unbuttoning as she went.
My shirt opened under her hands, and she didn’t look at me when she said, “You want to dominate Amiyah. I saw it in your eyes. But here…” Her palm flattened against my chest, nails just digging enough to sting. “…here you want me to dominate you.”
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t deny it.
“Say it,” she whispered.
My throat tightened. “I want you to.”
“You want me to what?” She probed, her fingers applying pressure to my pierced nipple.
“Own me, dominate me, relieve me.” I croaked out, pleasure surging through me.
Her smile was pure wickedness, the kind that made my knees feel unsteady. She shoved her thigh between my legs, pressing against the hard length of me. The friction ripped a groan out of my chest before I could stop it.
“That’s it,” she purred, grinding her thigh up harder. “Let it out. You’ve been playing boss all day. Now you’re mine.”
My hands shook as they gripped the wall behind me. Every ounce of control I held outside this house was slipping, flooding out of me in waves.
But then her tone shifted, darker, silkier, her eyes narrowing as if she’d just decided something. She leaned in close, her lips grazing my ear.
“You want her too,” she whispered. “Don’t you? That sweet little project manager with the soft laugh and those curves you can’t stop staring at.”
My stomach twisted, blood rushing hot to my dick, making it hard, if even possible. “…yes.”
Her teeth scraped my earlobe. “Good. I want her too.”
My head snapped toward her, shock cutting through the haze. “What?”
Calla’s smile was feral, deliberate. “Don’t look so surprised.
You think I didn’t notice the way she looked at me?
At us? That chemistry wasn’t one-sided, James.
” Her fingers curled around my throat, light but firm, owning the rhythm of my breath.
“You want to dominate her. I want to dominate you. And together…” She let the thought hang there like smoke before finishing, “…we can own her. Please her. Fulfill her every desire, because behind those brilliant, sultry eyes is a woman who’s unfulfilled and needs her limits pushed. ”
A shudder tore through me so strong my knees almost gave out. The image hit me hard—Calla’s whip-sharp control, my own hunger to claim, and Amiyah caught between us, submissive and helpless while holding all the power. Ours.
“You see it, don’t you?” Calla pressed, her hand tightening on my throat just enough to make my pulse roar in my ears. “Her body stretched between us, begging for what only we can give her. You breaking her in. Me breaking you both.”
I groaned, raw, guttural, hips rolling against her thigh without thought.
“Pathetic,” she whispered, biting my jaw hard enough to sting. “And so goddamn perfect.”
She was planting the seed of something bigger. Something filled with a level of desire that I wasn’t sure I could handle. Something we’d take together.
She didn’t give me time to think. Calla shoved me back onto the couch, my body sinking into the cushions while she stood above me like a queen surveying her subject. My shirt hung open, my chest heaving, my length straining against my slacks so hard it was painful.
“Hands behind your back,” she commanded, voice like steel wrapped in silk.
I obeyed instantly, the thrill of surrender cutting through me sharp and clean. She didn’t even have to check—I knew she believed I’d obey. That belief alone made me ache.
She straddled me, skirt riding up, the smooth press of her thighs caging me in place. Her hand went straight to my throat again, controlling my breath, her nails grazing my skin just enough to sting.
“You’re mine first,” she said, grinding down against me, the heat of her core rubbing right over my dick through layers of fabric. “But soon… she’ll be ours.”