Chapter 22 #3
I shrug, the motion small against his hold.
“After everything… I don’t know if I can walk back in there and pretend it didn’t happen.
Even with the apology, even with Aria gone.
People will still talk. They’ll still wonder if I only got reinstated because of you.
I just…” I shake my head. “I don’t want to go back.
Maybe it’s time for something new. A fresh start. ”
He studies me for a long beat, searching, then he nods. “Okay. Name the school you want to work at and—”
“No.” I cut him off, firm. “I’ll get a job without your help. No interfering this time.”
He blinks, genuinely confused for a second. “Do you like to suffer? Why won’t you just let me help—”
I give him the look—the one that says try me.
He exhales through his nose, raises both hands in surrender. “Okay. No help. None. From me. At all.”
I soften, just a fraction, and smile. “If I need you, I’ll ask. Promise.”
He studies me another beat, then the corner of his mouth lifts. “I can live with that.”
Before I can answer, he seals my lips with his. The kiss starts slow, languid, like he’s memorizing the shape of my mouth all over again. I melt into it, anger dissolving under the warm slide of his tongue.
It deepens fast. His hands slide to my hips, lift me clean off the floor. I wrap my legs around his waist, arms locking behind his neck as he carries me across the office to the long leather couch tucked in the corner.
He lowers me onto the cushions without breaking the kiss, then sinks to his knees between my thighs. Big hands push my skirt up, bunching the fabric at my waist. His mouth leaves mine only long enough to trail hot, open kisses down the inside of my thigh.
He hooks his fingers in the lace of my panties, drags them down my legs, and without a second thought, slips them into his trouser pocket.
I gasp when his teeth sink into the soft flesh of my inner thigh, just sharp enough to make me jolt.
Then his mouth is on me. His tongue flattens, drags slow and firm over my clit, then circles, flicking the tip in quick, teasing strokes. I cry out, loud, shameless, forgetting we’re in his office.
My hands fist in his hair, hips bucking up to chase the pressure. He groans against me, the vibration shooting straight through my core, and doubles down, sucking my clit into his mouth, tongue lashing, two thick fingers sliding inside me, curling just right.
“Leonid—” His name breaks on a whine.
He doesn’t stop. Just keeps devouring me until my thighs are shaking and I’m grinding against his face, chasing the edge.
When I’m trembling, right on the brink, he pulls back. Stands. Discards his jacket in one fluid motion, unbuttons his black shirt halfway down his chest, enough to expose the hard planes of muscle. Trousers shoved to mid-thigh, cock thick and heavy in his fist.
He lifts me again, sits on the couch, and guides me down onto him in one long, slow slide. I gasp at the stretch, the sudden fullness. He’s so deep I feel him everywhere.
“Move, solnyshko,” he rasps, hands gripping my hips. “Ride me. Use me.”
I do.
I roll my hips, then bounce, slow at first, finding the rhythm, then faster. My nails dig into his shoulders. He watches me the whole time, eyes hungry, reverent. I throw my head back, closing my eyes.
“Look at me,” he orders. “Look at me while you ride this dick.”
I do. Our gazes lock. Heat floods my cheeks.
“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” he growls. “Tits bouncing, pussy gripping me so tight… my good girl taking what she needs.”
He surges up suddenly, strong arms banding around me, and lifts me just enough to slam me back down. Hard. Deep. I cry out, head falling back.
“Again,” he says. “Take it. Harder.”
I do. Faster. Sloppier. Whining, hips grinding, chasing that spot that makes stars burst behind my eyes.
He feels it, the flutter, the clench.
“Squirt for me,” he murmurs against my ear. “Come all over this dick. I know you’ve got it in you.”
“I can’t—”
“Oh, you can.” His hand slides between us, thumb circling my clit in tight, relentless strokes. “You’re gonna soak me, solnyshko. Let it go.”
He presses his forehead to mine, breath ragged. “You’re gonna squirt all over this dick, aren’t you?”
I nod frantically, tears pricking my eyes from the intensity. “Yes—”
“Tell me you deserve to come.”
“I deserve to come,” I gasp.
“Louder.”
“I deserve to come!”
“Good girl.” He slams up into me again, holding me down so I feel every thick inch. “Look how fucking gorgeous you are riding me… you were made for this cock.”
My hands scramble over his shoulders, his chest, needing to touch, to hold on.
“Hands on me, mama,” he growls. “Feel me. Breathe with me. In… out… that’s it.”
I match his rhythm, chest rising and falling with his. The pressure coils tighter, unbearable, perfect.
“Come,” he commands. “Squirt all over me. Show me how good I make you feel.”
I shatter.
The orgasm rips through me, hard, wet, endless. I cry out his name, body convulsing, liquid heat gushing between us, soaking his cock, his thighs, the leather beneath him.
He groans low, reverent. “That’s it… fuck, yes… look at you. So fucking beautiful. I’m so proud of you, solnyshko.”
I collapse against his chest, trembling, aftershocks still pulsing through me. His arms wrap tight around me, one hand stroking my back in slow, soothing circles.
“That’s my good girl.”