Chapter 17 Aidan #2
Suddenly, it’s not enough only seeing her arm above my desk. She wants me to watch? Then I want to see it all.
“Show me,” I say roughly. “I need to see you, Cupcake. All of you. Don’t hide.”
Her breath stutters. She shifts in the chair, pushing back from the desk and tugging her skirt up to her waist. I watch as she places one high-heeled foot on the edge of my desk, spreading herself for me.
My pulse quickens at how willing she is, but when I drop my gaze between her thighs, black lace obstructs my view.
“I’ll show you mine,” she purrs, eyes shimmering, “if you show me yours.” Her gaze falls to the stubborn erection threatening my zipper, and I grit my teeth.
Of all the moments for her to unleash that defiant side, this is not what I need.
I’m tempted to take over and remind her who’s boss, but I won’t.
Not when I desperately want to join her.
Besides, I reason, as I slowly undo my belt, she asked. I’d only embarrass her if I said no, and I can’t let her be alone in this. She’s sharing herself, and I should too. For her.
But as I release myself from my slacks, I realize how fucking delusional I am, telling myself this is only for her. Especially when heat courses through me as Iris greedily eyes my stiff cock, when her lips part as I begin to stroke. This is weeks of pent-up longing, aching for release.
Her mouth tilts into a satisfied smile, and she wriggles out of her panties, tossing them onto my desk.
They land beside my keyboard, next to the CAD prints from our meeting with David, but I couldn’t give two fucks about that right now.
Not when Iris settles back in her chair, placing her heel on my desk again, spreading herself for me.
This time, there’s nowhere for her to hide. My breath hisses out between my teeth as I take in her glistening pink slit and the soft curls above it, a shade darker than her hair.
“So pretty, Cupcake.”
I want nothing more than to round my desk and lower myself between her knees, to bury my face in her pussy, but I resist. Some twisted logic in my brain says that as long as I don’t touch her, I’m not doing anything wrong.
Another, far more sensible, part of me is all too aware that logic is faulty, but when Iris fastens her gaze on my cock and licks her lips, I don’t care. I need this. She fucking needs this.
One stolen moment in my office, so things can get back to normal.
I stroke my length, watching her, but she hesitates. It takes me a second to realize why. Even in this moment, she needs guidance. And I’m all too happy to give it to her.
“Touch yourself,” I rumble. “Show me what makes you feel good.”
She huffs out a breath, fingers stroking through her wetness, circling her tight little bud. Heat grips me as she spasms in my chair, eyelids fluttering again, and I give her a dirty smile.
“Good girl.”
Her gaze flies to mine, smoldering at my words. She likes the praise? She was like that at Marco’s. I remember it all too clearly. Knowing her better now, it makes sense. She needs to be told she’s doing a good job.
Because no one ever fucking tells her that.
“That’s it,” I murmur thickly. “Just like that.”
I pump my fist, watching as she grows more restless in the chair, squirming as her fingers work faster over her clit, and when her eyes return to mine, dark and bottomless, I realize it’s not only her body that’s turning me on.
It’s her trust. That she’s comfortable enough to do this in front of me, to bare herself to me.
Like I’ve created a sense of safety, so she can let go in all the ways she never gets to.
The thought makes my dick throb in my hand, makes a warm ache knot in my chest. Makes me want to assure her again.
“You’re doing so well,” I rasp. “So fucking good, baby.”
She issues a quiet moan at my words, eyes closing as she chases her pleasure.
But I need to see. I need her to see that I’m not turning away. That I accept it all. Hell, I welcome it.
“Eyes on me, Cupcake.”
She brings her gaze back to mine, looking up at me from under hooded lids, and I stroke myself faster. She’s so fucking perfect like this. No bullshit, no hiding, no shame.
“Fuck,” I growl quietly. “I could watch you all day, Iris.” Shit, what am I saying? Using her name like that somehow feels even more intimate than her nickname.
But it also feels right.
God, I want to be closer to her. I want to pull her into my arms and bury myself to the hilt, to feel her pleasure as well as see it. To make her feel so fucking good she can’t think about anything else.
But I know this is all I can have.
“I could watch you all day too,” she breathes, cheeks flushed, lips parted and wet. “I wish I could taste you again.”
Fuck.
Heat rushes down my spine, and I lean over the desk, fisting my cock.
“Tell me you’re close,” I grit, ignoring her plea. I’m hanging on by a thread, and if she asks again, I’ll fucking cave. I’ll throw her onto my desk and thrust inside her until she’s screaming loud enough for the entire office to hear.
“I’m close.”
Oh, thank fuck.
She brings her other hand into the mix, reaching under the leg on my desk to pump two fingers into herself while also stroking her clit, and my balls draw up tight at the sight.
“Christ,” I choke out. “You’re killing me, Cupcake.”
She gives a throaty laugh, and it’s the best fucking sound. I’ve never heard her like this, never seen her so undone, and I file every detail away for later. For when this is all over.
“You going to come for me?” I ask, voice choppy and desperate. “I need it.”
“Yes,” she says hoarsely. “I’m… so… close…”
I lean over the CAD prints to meet her gaze head-on. “I need to see you come for me, in my office, like the good girl you are.”
She moans, fingers working faster.
“That’s it, Cupcake.” My voice sounds like gravel, that’s how close I am. “Show me how pretty you look when you come.”
Finally, she breaks, mouth falling open on a silent moan, eyes rolling back as she writhes in my chair, legs pressing together, back arching off the leather.
I watch in awe as this woman comes undone right before my eyes, knowing as my release surges through me that there’s no fucking way this is over.
I grip my pulsing cock, spilling onto the CAD prints in jerky movements, vaguely registering Iris’s reverent expression as I come.
Breathing hard, we stare at each other. It’s just us, just this moment, and it’s fucking everything.
The sound of a phone ringing somewhere outside my office cuts through the haze, and I suck in a breath, stepping back, tucking myself into my boxer-briefs, buckling my belt with shaking hands.
Iris tugs on her panties, not meeting my gaze, and I look at my cum, pooled on the CAD prints, the reality of what we’ve just done hitting me. I jerked off in front of an employee.
No, not an employee.
The boss’s daughter.
Jesus Christ. How did I let that happen?
John’s already pissed at me for the way I’ve slipped lately. Partnership feels further away than ever, all because I’ve gotten distracted. Now I’ve done this? How could I have been so stupid? So reckless?
I curse quietly to myself, raking a hand through my hair, and Iris shrinks.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, rising from my chair.
My gaze snaps to Iris. Her shoulders curl inward as she ducks her head in shame, and something fierce flares inside me.
“Don’t apologize.”
She glances at me uncertainly. “You’re not angry?”
Everything about that makes me soften. God, she always expects me to be angry. I know why now, after seeing the way John treats her. The way I used to treat her. It fucking kills me.
I can’t let her think this is her fault. That I’m angry at her. It’s the opposite of how I want her to feel. With a sigh, I round the desk, hesitating before I reach for her. I know I shouldn’t touch her, especially after what we just did, but I need her to know.
“No, Cupcake,” I say, softly brushing my thumb along her cheekbone. “It’s not your fault. I wanted it just as much as you.”
Her shoulders relax as she gazes up at me. I stroke the soft blush on her smooth skin, and she closes her eyes, leaning into my palm. She looks small, and something protective clenches in my gut.
This can’t go further. She needs someone to keep her steady, to be there for her, to guide her.
Not to take advantage of her.
“But it can’t happen again,” I say gently, hating the words even as I say them. “Not because I don’t want you—God, I do—but you deserve better than me losing control like that.”
She sighs, studying the floor. “I knew you’d say that.”
I ignore the twist in my chest, reaching for the most obvious thing to say.
“Your father is my boss. I need to make partner, and that won’t happen if I sleep with his daughter.
” The logic is sound, but the words are hollow, even to my own ears.
I’m chasing a promotion—chasing approval—from the man who pushes Iris around, and knowing what I do now, it doesn’t sit right.
But I’ve worked my ass off for this. It’s all I’ve known for years. I’ve fucking earned it.
And I’m not sure I know any other way to be.
“You work for me,” I add quietly, mostly to remind myself. “You’re young, and I should be the one setting boundaries.”
She snorts, rolling her eyes. The sound cuts deeper than it should.
“It’s fine,” she mutters. “I get it.”
My heart tightens. She’s pulling away, and it’s exactly what I need.
But I can’t stand it.
“Don’t think I regret it,” I murmur. “That’s not what this is. God, I wish…” But I swallow my words, knowing better than to say them. “We need to be professional.”
She exhales, lifting her chin and forcing her gaze to mine. She’s doing that thing where she tries to look like she doesn’t care, but I know her better now. I can see the hurt underneath, and it makes me want to take that hurt away.
To make sure she never feels it again.
Maybe that’s what scares me the most. I can tell myself it’s about partnership at the firm, about protecting her, but I’m a fucking coward.
All I’m really doing is protecting myself.
I think of the way she bared herself to me, the way she came undone at my command. The trust I saw in her eyes that speared me right through the heart. It wasn’t just a hot moment between two people getting off. It was intimate. Sacred, almost.
And it’s too much.
I’ve lived my entire life putting work above all else. It’s all I’ve ever known, all I’ve ever seen—from my father, from John. It’s what it takes to succeed in this industry. Anything else only gets in the way.
Love only gets in the way.
“It’s okay,” she murmurs, meeting my eyes, steadier now. “You don’t have to explain.” She smooths her clothes, then slips quietly from my office.
I stare after her, telling myself this is the way it has to be. That it’s for the best.
But I’m not sure I believe it.