Chapter 4
GRADY
The conference room had a blind spot. I’d clocked it while Mollie was stroking me. The first step was to lock the door, but after that, I shoved a chair back into the corner, double-checked that we weren’t visible to anyone walking by, and took her hand, leading her over until she was seated.
She wore a sly smile as she settled onto the large, cushy chair. I wondered about that smile. I didn’t have to wonder long. She slid her hands behind my thighs and pulled me forward, parting her legs at the same time her lips separated and her gaze dropped to my cock.
Holy hell. This woman was going to be the death of me.
She took me deep, her mouth hot and tight around me, every pull a mix of pleasure and torture. My head fell back, fingers sinking into her hair as a raw sound tore out of me. For a few seconds, all I could feel was her—heat, pressure, perfection—until my knees almost gave out.
But I had to stop her. This wasn’t about me. Not tonight.
I gently pulled her away, my breath ragged. Her eyes, hazy with desire and a flicker of uncertainty, met mine.
“My turn,” I said, my voice rough.
I knelt between her legs, the tiles cold against my knees. I ran my hands up the smooth skin of her thighs, pushing her skirt higher and removing her panties before settling her more firmly on the edge of the chair.
She was trembling. I looked up, holding her gaze as I lowered my head and settled my mouth over her heat.
The first touch of my tongue to her clit made her gasp—a sharp, startled sound. Her head fell back, her long, dark hair draping behind her.
I licked her slowly, finding her rhythm, learning what made her moan. She tasted like salt and skin—hers alone. I pressed harder, circling and flicking, taking in every sound she made, every shift of her hips.
The bass from the party pounded through the wall, setting a rhythm we couldn’t escape. I felt her tighten around me, her breath shaky. When I slid a finger inside and curled it just right, the wave crested.
Her climax was a silent scream, her body bowing against my mouth, her inner muscles fluttering wildly around my finger. She collapsed back into the chair, boneless and breathing in ragged pants.
When her eyes opened and met mine, I stood. I was hard and aching, but that didn’t matter. Right then, it was all about her.
“Stand up,” I said softly.
She did, her legs a little unsteady. I sat down in the chair she’d just vacated, the fabric still warm from her body.
“Now,” I commanded, my voice low. “The dress. I want to see you.”
Her eyes widened, but a slow, sensual smile touched her lips. She reached behind her back, found the zipper, and pulled. The sound was loud in the quiet room. The dark fabric sighed away from her skin, pooling at her feet in a forgotten heap.
And there she stood. And God, I couldn’t breathe.
Her breasts were incredible—full, heavy, the kind of curves that made my mouth go dry. In the low light, her skin looked smooth and pale, her nipples tight and perfect.
I’d seen a lot of beautiful things in my life, but nothing came close to this.
“Come here,” I managed to rasp.
She moved toward me, her confidence returning with every step. She straddled me on the chair, her knees pressing into the cushions on either side of me.
My hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into the soft curve of her ass as she guided me to her. She held my gaze—steady, unflinching—as she sank down onto me, slow and deep, until the air left my lungs in a rough exhale.
I groaned, my forehead falling against her chest. The feel of her, hot and tight and wet, was almost too much.
She started to move—slow and steady, finding a rhythm that was pure instinct. I leaned in, caught one of her nipples between my lips, and tasted her. She let out a low moan that I felt more than heard, her nails biting into my shoulders as she rode me.
I watched her face, lost in the pleasure, and I moved my hand between our bodies. I found her clit, swollen and sensitive, and began to circle it with my thumb, matching the rhythm of her hips.
“That’s it, baby,” I whispered. “Come for me again.”
Her breath caught, and the rhythm broke—faster now, rougher. I felt it then, the first tight, trembling pulse deep inside her, a shiver that pulled me right to the edge with her.
“I’ve got you,” I promised, my voice strained. “Let go.”
She came with a broken cry, her head thrown back, her body clenching around me in a series of powerful, milking contractions. The feeling of her fluttering around my cock was my undoing. My own control shattered.
I drove up into her once, twice, my release tearing through me with a guttural roar, spilling deep inside her as she continued to pulse around me. For a long moment, we simply clung to each other, our breathing harsh in the quiet room, the party a distant, irrelevant world.
Then, a sharp, decisive knock rattled the door.
Our eyes met—wide, a flash of “oh, shit” between us. Then she laughed, and the wild, breathless sound hit me right in the chest. I couldn’t stop the grin that followed. We scrambled apart, half tripping over each other, laughing and whispering as I shoved my pants back on.
Once I was presentable, I cupped her face, kissing her once, hard and quick. “Wait a minute,” I breathed against her lips. “Then come out.”
She nodded, eyes still bright. I unlocked the door and stepped out, blending into the crowd. Her scent clung to me, the feel of her still burned into my skin.
There was only one thing on my mind as I greeted guests. Mollie was my future. I just had to make certain I didn’t ruin it.