16. Reece #2
Her fingers drift between her thighs, light and slow, and I catch the first soft moan when she touches herself, like she didn’t mean to let it out.
My cock throbs behind my zipper.
"Fuck," I mutter.
She dips her fingers again, circling her clit, and this time she breathes out harder. Her knees fall open, wide enough for me to see the slick glint of arousal coating her folds.
It takes everything in me not to growl.
“Skye."
Her eyes flutter open, lashes heavy. “Yes?”
“Stop." Her lips twitch. She doesn’t.
“Make me.”
“You walk in here like this, tease me, and you think I’m the one who’s going to break?” I stand slowly, pressing a palm to the edge of the desk, caging her in. “Do you know how close I am to fucking ruining you?”
Her breath stutters. “I want you to.”
No hesitation. No fear. Just pure unadulterated lust in her eyes as she gazes back at me.
I reach for the cigar. Unlit. Thick. Smooth. Her eyes flick down to it. Her lips part. “You want to play games?” I ask.
She nods once, breathless.
“Then be still.”
I drag the cigar down the inside of her thigh. She gasps, more reaction than sound. I trace it between her legs, pressing it gently against her folds. Her hips twitch forward, chasing it.
“Are you going to fuck me with it?”
I watch the end of the cigar slowly disappear inside her. She’s soaked.
“Would you like that?” I slide it in just a little bit and her response is only a gasp. “You’re filthy, aren't you, Skye?”
She tries to remain cool but I can see her losing it. “Only for you.”
I push the cigar farther in this time. She arches, whimpers. The sound she makes is like a prayer. Like surrender. And all I want is to make her give me more of it. I pull it out slightly before sliding even farther in this time.
She clenches around the cigar like she’s trying to hold it in, like her body doesn’t know what to do with this kind of teasing. With this kind of possession.
I slide it out in a controlled motion, watching the wet sheen coating the length. She moans again, a soft whimper. The kind of sound that ruins a man.
My throat is dry. My control’s shot. I bring the cigar to my nose, inhaling her arousal before slipping it between my lips. And then I light it. I close my eyes, inhaling.
The smoke tastes like her—sweet and sharp, laced with heat and something primal. Something I shouldn’t crave but do.
She’s watching me now. Chest rising and falling, thighs trembling where they’re still open, skirt bunched around her waist. Her lips are parted, her eyes unfocused.
“Reece…” she whispers, voice barely there.
I don’t answer. I set the cigar back in the tray, stand between her knees, and press my hands to her thighs. Then I drop to my knees.
She gasps as I hook her thighs over my shoulders and drag her to the edge of the desk.
“You wanted to play,” I say, my voice rough and low. “You wanted to tempt me.”
She nods quickly, too quickly. “Yes. Please.”
I don’t tease. I devour her. One long, firm stroke from her entrance to her clit that makes her cry out and grab a fistful of my hair.
She tastes like sin. Like victory. Like every bad decision I’ve ever wanted to make twice.
I do it again, slower, savoring the way she shudders when I flick my tongue over the sensitive spot just beneath her clit.
“God—Reece.”
She’s writhing now, trying to grind down, to take more of me. I hold her still. Make her take it how I give it. Her body is so fucking responsive. Every moan, every breath, every twitch of her hips is for me. Because of me.
I suck her clit between my lips, just enough pressure to make her sob.
“Fuck,” she pants. “I’m gonna— Oh God, I’m so close.”
“Come for me.” My voice is muffled by her, by the way I refuse to stop, refuse to let up.
I flatten my tongue and drag it in slow, punishing circles until her legs tighten around me and she comes with a cry that echoes off the walls.
She’s shaking. Boneless. Wrecked. And I’m not even close to done. I rise slowly, letting her feel the shift in air, the absence of my mouth on her. She looks at me through heavy lashes, lips swollen, chest heaving.
“Holy shit,” she breathes. “You just?—”
“You earned it.” My voice is gravel. I reach for the glass of scotch and take a slow sip, never breaking eye contact. She watches me drink, eyes still dazed. I’m about to go in for seconds when, without a word, she slides off the desk and drops to her knees.
I freeze.
“What are you?—?”
She steps in closer and places her hands flat on my chest. I don’t stop her. I can’t. My whole body is coiled tight, vibrating under her touch.
She pushes gently. I let her guide me until the backs of my thighs hit the chair.
“Sit.” I ease down onto the chair.
She sinks to her knees between my legs, and every breath I’ve ever taken leaves my body at once.
“Let me please you,” she whispers, her hands already sliding over my thighs. “Let me make you feel better.”
My head falls back against the chair. This has got to be a fucking dream. Her hands move to my belt. She undoes the buckle, eyes locked on mine. When she frees me, I’m already hard. Already leaking.
Her tongue slides over her bottom lip. “Mmm, God, you’re huge.” Then she leans in and takes me into her mouth. I groan, deep and guttural, as her lips close around the head and she sucks gently, teasing.
She looks up at me through her lashes, her lips stretched wide as she takes me deeper. And fuck me, it’s a beautiful sight. My hands fly to her hair, twisting in the silky strands.
“Just like that,” I hiss, pulling her head down onto my cock a little farther but she gags.
“Open wider, sweetheart.” She moans around me, then slides her head lower, taking more of me inch by inch. Her tongue swirls, her pace unhurried as if she wants to savor every second of this.
“Fuck, Skye…” My hands tighten in her hair. “You were made for this, weren’t you?”
She bobs her head, eyes fluttering closed as she hums against my length, the vibration shooting straight to my spine. I glance down, and the sight of her—kneeling between my legs, eyes starting to water from how deep she’s taking me—it’s enough to make me lose what little restraint I have left.
I thrust once, shallow and desperate. She doesn’t pull back. Doesn’t gag this time. She takes it.
“Look at you,” I rasp. “So fucking pretty when you’re on your knees for me, taking me so goddamn deep.”
She moans again, working her hand in rhythm with her mouth, slick sounds filling the air. I can’t take my eyes off her. Watching her is addictive.
“Yeah, just like that,” I growl. “Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you? You want it all. Want me to come down your throat.”
Before she can even respond, I lose it. “Shit— Skye—” My hips buck, and I feel it start to build, tight, hot, unstoppable. “I’m gonna come.”
She moans louder, her throat flexing as she swallows around me. And that’s it. I explode in her mouth, groaning her name as she milks every last drop from me, her fingers gentle now, coaxing every pulse of release.
When she pulls back, her lips are swollen and slick, her chin glistening. She wipes it with the back of her hand, then leans forward, her voice soft against my ear. “That’s why you’re so tense,” she purrs. “You need a woman who takes care of you.”
My hand shoots out, grabbing her wrist before she can turn away. Her eyes widen slightly, surprised. But I’m not going to reprimand her. I’m going to tell the truth.
“That mouth of yours…” I drag my thumb across her bottom lip, watching it bounce back. “It’s a fucking weapon.”
She grins. “And I haven’t even shown you what else I can do.”
I shake my head, half laughing, yet also half-terrified.
“You suck cock like it’s the only thing that matters in the world.”
She stands, backing away slowly. “Well… for the record, Mr. Blackwood, when I’m on my knees for you, it kind of is.”
And with that, she’s gone. Leaving me breathless, hard all over again, and absolutely fucked.
The next morning, she walks into my office like nothing happened. Hair up. Makeup looking perfect. Pencil skirt and blouse perfectly pressed… And I hate how much I want to ruin it.
She sets a stack of folders on my desk, then taps the top one twice. “Vendor updates and the September ad spend breakdown. You’ve got a meeting with legal at eleven. I’ll sit in and take notes.”
My throat’s dry. My cock twitches.
I clear it. “Skye?—”
She looks up. Cool and composed. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood?”
I exhale through my nose as I lean back in my chair. “We can’t do that again. Not here. Not in the office.”
Her mouth twitches. “Do what?”
“Don’t,” I warn.
“I’m just trying to clarify. You mean the part where I walked in? Or the part where I made you come so hard you forgot your own name?” My hands clench the arms of my chair. Her tone doesn’t change.
“Skye.”
She sighs, then finally softens. “I’m not trying to get you in trouble.
I know what this is. I’m not parading around the office in lingerie.
I’m not whispering dirty things to you during conference calls.
I’m your assistant. I show up. I do my job.
And if sometimes I suck your cock after hours in your office… well.” She smiles. “That’s between us.”
I lean forward, bracing my elbows on the desk. “It’s inappropriate.”
“So fire me.”
The words land like a brick in my gut, the thought of not seeing her every day suddenly a knot in my stomach.
She says them lightly, teasingly. But there’s a flicker of challenge behind her eyes.
She’s daring me. Daring me to pretend I could go a day without seeing her face.
Without the sound of her voice in my ear, the scent of her on my jacket, or the echo of her laugh from the hallway.
She leans in, palms resting on the edge of the desk. Her voice drops.
“I’m not going to push you, Reece. You already know what you want. I’m just the one letting you have it.”
The silence stretches. Then, finally, I say the only thing that makes sense. “This thing between us… it doesn’t have to stop. But it has to stay out of the office.”
Her lashes flutter once, surprised. “Is that an order?”
I nod. “That’s a boundary.”
She nods, absorbing it. Then she straightens, collects the top folder from the stack, and smooths a hand down her hip.
“No problem,” she says, stepping back toward the door. “I respect your boundaries.”
I blink. “You do?”
She looks over her shoulder. “Of course. It’s not like I don’t have other ways to get what I want.”
I pause. “Like what?”
She tilts her head, lips curling. “Why don’t you stop by sometime and find out?”
I raise a brow. “Stop by?”
“My place. After work. Or after a drink. Or when you’re tired of pretending I’m not all you think about.”
“Are you inviting me over?” I ask, trying to sound unaffected.
She grins. “No, Mr. Blackwood. I’m daring you.”
Then she walks out. And I’m left staring at the empty doorway, my pulse hammering behind my ribs, knowing damn well I’ll take her up on it.