15. Tori
TORI
When the valet pulled up with Emzee’s cute black convertible, she turned to me.
“You want a ride back over to campus?” she asked.
She was struggling to keep her hat on her head as a gust of wind came up, her arms loaded down with bags, so I took her purse and the leftovers so she could duck into the car.
“Actually,” I said, passing the bags back through the window, “I still have some time before my ASL class. I think I’ll get Stefan something to eat and bring it over to him.”
“Brilliant!” Emzee squealed. “Their food is so good, isn’t it? He’ll love that. My brother the workaholic, always laboring right through his lunch hour. Maybe I’ll see you at the office?”
“Sure. Either way, let’s hang out again soon,” I said.
“Love it.” With an air kiss, she rolled up the window and sped off.
But the excitement I felt at surprising my husband was quickly dampened when I remembered that I wasn’t supposed to go to the office without an explicit invitation. The last time I tried to bring Stefan lunch unannounced, it hadn’t gone well.
Then again, my husband’s rules about not showing up at KZM had probably been due to their behind-the-scenes activities—not whether I was allowed to visit. There was no way I’d get in trouble now that I knew the full scope of what was really going on at the agency.
Still, I was nervous regardless as I sat in the back of an Uber on my way over. What if he didn’t want me at the office for other reasons? Maybe he was having an affair at work, or he engaged in “private interviews” with the models. I clutched the bag of take-out food, anxious.
“Thank you so much,” I told the driver, sliding out of the car in front of the building.
I looked up at the huge skyscraper of glass and brick, taking a deep breath.
The last time I’d been here, I had gotten turned around and accidentally overheard Konstantin Zoric yelling at Luka.
The owner of KZM had admonished his youngest son for basically screwing “the help.” That was when I’d first realized that the agency’s talent were working as more than just models. It had shattered my entire world.
But Stefan was still Konstantin’s favorite.
If my husband was really the perfect son he was supposed to be, he’d know his father’s rules.
There was no way he’d be messing around with other women at work, in full view of everyone.
Nothing went on at KZM that Konstantin didn’t know about.
I clung to that thought despite having no proof that it was valid.
I had to believe that Stefan wasn’t cheating.
The security guard at the front desk recognized me, and he waved me over to the bank of elevators without even making me sign in. When I got up to the 29th floor, the receptionist was equally warm.
“Mrs. Zoric,” she said. “So good to see you again. He’s in his office. Go right ahead.”
It was almost too easy. My pulse was kicking as I tiptoed down the hall, turned the corner, and made my way to Stefan’s office door.
To my relief, he swung open the door at my first knock and greeted me with a smirk.
“You know you’re not supposed to be here, kitty cat.” His voice was stern, but not angry.
“I know, but…” I held up the bag and smiled. “I thought you might be hungry.”
“You are a goddess,” he said, taking the bag gratefully and pulling me in for a slow, deep kiss. It took my breath away.
As he settled back into his desk chair, I closed the door behind me and made my way toward him. “I figured it was okay to come since Emzee invited me.”
The last time I’d visited the agency’s offices had also been on Emzee’s invitation—but Stefan was well aware of what had changed recently regarding my knowledge about KZM, and neither of us said anything to acknowledge it.
“I’ll let it slip this time,” he said with a wink, letting his eyes travel the length of my body. “Especially considering you look good enough to eat, yourself.”
As usual, I felt myself blushing under his lustful gaze.
I liked his playful mood. After my long talk with Emzee at the restaurant, I also couldn’t help wondering whether I actually did wield any sort of power over this man.
He always seemed so self-assured, so completely in control.
But I wanted him to let go of that. To lose himself, even if it was just for a short while.
Maybe I hadn’t been wrong about things changing between us. Maybe there was something I could do to change things even more. Looking at my husband in his well-cut suit, feeling the executive power radiating from him, my thoughts went to a very, very naughty place.
Unaware, he untied the bag and started setting the take-out boxes on his desk.
“You know…there are benefits to me being here,” I said. My voice was low and sultry. I barely recognized myself, but I loved it. I loved this risky, risqué side of me. The side that only Stefan seemed to bring out.
“Benefits?” he repeated, unfolding a napkin.
“Mm hmm,” I purred. “You just eat your lunch now. Deal?”
He looked up at me and cocked an eyebrow. He seemed wary, but he said, “Deal.”
With that, I let my coat and scarf slide to the floor and dropped to my knees.
Stefan had opened one of the boxes of sushi, but his chopsticks paused in mid-air as he watched me crawl toward him. His eyes were focused on me now, and the food wasn’t the only thing he was eyeing with appreciation. And hunger.
I watched him watching me, saw the heat burning in his green eyes.
I knew my sweater dress was hugging every curve, that my lips looked full and wet with the gloss I’d applied on the way over.
I would have been lying if I didn’t admit that part of me had been thinking of him when I got dressed this morning.
That I had wanted him to see me looking like this.
“Don’t mind me,” I said, coming closer to him on my knees.
He ate a piece of sushi, his eyes never leaving mine, looking both interested in my movements and incredibly turned on. I liked the idea that I was keeping him on his toes. That I was the one in charge right now—that he didn’t know what was coming next.
But I could tell that he was ready to find out. One glance down at the bulge straining against his zipper indicated as much.
“Let me just help you with that,” I murmured, sliding my hand across his lap, teasing him with a few soft strokes through his expensive Italian slacks.
Stefan let out a harsh breath, and with a wicked smile on my lips, I knelt between his legs and moved my hands to his knees. I felt his thigh muscles clench under my palms as I slid them back up to where his cock was hard and throbbing, the thick outline of it growing even bigger.
“Mmm,” I moaned. I licked my lips and unbuttoned his pants, and then slowly, slowly dragged the zipper down. “I think I’m ready for dessert.”
“Fuck,” he said softly.
His cock—gloriously hard and thick—finally sprung free into my ready hand.
I squeezed gently and Stefan let out a groan, his own hand moving to the back of my head, his palm heavy there.
I loved it, loved that he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for me.
His obvious excitement encouraged me to lean forward and lick a slow line from the base of his cock to the tip of its head, swirling my tongue around the swollen cap there.
I could tell by the way his fingers twisted in my hair—fisting so tightly that it bordered on pain—that he was very much enjoying having lunch delivered to his office today.
Although I hadn’t had as much experience at oral as I would have liked, I wanted nothing more than to please him.
I opened my mouth wide and took him all the way to the back of my throat, giving a long, hard suck.
God, he felt good in my mouth, with my lips stretched around his thickness.
I was going to do everything I could to draw out more harsh groans from his lips.
The sound made me feel powerful. Made me instantly hot and wet.
Lightly cupping his balls with one hand, I gripped him firmly in the other, letting his cock slide out between my lips.
Then I dragged my tongue along the underside like it was a popsicle, just like he’d taught me in the back of a private car the first time I learned how to give a blowjob.
His fingers dug into my scalp tighter, tighter, tighter, and I began to stroke my hand in concert with the motion of my mouth as I bobbed my head back and forth, sucking him softly.
He swore, harshly and colorfully, and I couldn’t help smiling as I increased the pressure of my lips and tongue, the speed of my movements.
I sucked harder and faster, moaning a little as I fucked him with my mouth.
I wanted to give him the same mindless pleasure he had given me against the wall, in our shower. I wanted to make him lose control.
My hand was wet as it slid in short, fast jerks over his velvety shaft, my tongue drawing patterns as I sucked him in and out of my mouth.
I could tell he was close from the way he was panting, the way his dick was hard as a rock.
All at once, both of his hands were in my hair and he was forcing my mouth down and up on his cock, thrusting roughly against my tongue, guiding me faster and faster into the rhythm he wanted.
“Take it,” he groaned, his cock thumping the back of my throat, his movements getting erratic and harsh. “Take all of it.” I took it, moaning around his length, loving that this was pleasure we were creating together, loving that he was taking control.
Suddenly he stiffened and suppressed a yell, and with that I felt him coming—that hot, thick liquid spilling into my open throat.
I swallowed it all, enjoying every last drop, sucking him dry.
When he was done, when his body fell limp and relaxed back into his chair, I licked my lips one last time and stood up, smiling down at him.
He was spent, completely unable to say a word.
I’d never felt more powerful.
“Have a nice lunch,” I told him, before striding out of his office.
I’d bet anything he was grateful that I—or he, actually—had come.