"I… want it…" she breathed, hips rolling helplessly against him, the words almost drowned in the heat between her thighs. Her eyes fluttered open, red irises glowing beneath half-lidded lashes, locked onto his. "Like that. Just like that."
Pyris smiled, a dark, dangerous curve of his lips.
He kissed the side of her neck, teeth grazing the delicate artery, breath hot. "Then beg properly next time, vice-CEO."
He squeezed again—this time firmer—dragging another whimper from her throat as her fingernails raked lightly down his back.
The office's silence was gone now, replaced by breathless sounds and the faint creak of leather and fabric as their bodies collided, teased, aligned.
And neither of them had yet removed the rest of their clothes.
But they would.
Oh, they would.
His lips hovered near her jawline, whispering heat with every breath. His hands still molded her curves like clay, sculpting every reaction from her hips and thighs with a grip that knew her form too well now.
