"EVERY MAN IS HIS OWN DEVIL"
"Then take me," I said with a gasp against his ear.
Like a ravaged beast now freed from its cage, his hands moved to my top, and with precision, he ripped the thin fabric apart. His rough hands fondled my breasts, causing me to moan under his touch.
"Damn, Vel," he said, lips still pressed against mine. "Your moans are music to my ears."
His kisses trailed downward—my neck, my collarbone, and then my breast.
"Omar…" I whispered, burying my fingers in his wavy hair.
If I had known that his touch would feel this good, I would've let him hit the moment we moved in here.
Omari took his sweet time sucking on my breasts. His tongue flickered in slow, teasing circles around my nipple, sending electric sparks flying across my skin. I felt like I was melting under him. Every graze of his lips left a burn, and I wanted more.
"Enough foreplay, Omar. Take me," I said impatiently, squirming beneath him.
Although I couldn't see his face—it was buried in my chest—I could tell from the subtle shift in his breath that his lips tilted into a smirk at my words.
"With pleasure," he said.
His hands reached down. His finger slipped through the already-weak fabric of my shorts with ease. Using the hole he'd created, he tore them apart entirely, leaving me exposed and aching beneath him.
I was loving this beastly side of Omari.
His middle finger then found its way to my core, and without wasting time, he inserted it inside me, drawing a sharp gasp of pleasure from my lips. He began moving his finger in and out, each stroke sending waves of heat through me.
Then he withdrew it and slid in two.
"Omar, please…" I said, desperation thick in my tone.
I was more than excited. I was eager.
"Hush, Vel," he said, planting a kiss on my lips. "I'm just getting started."
He removed his fingers again, and I instantly missed them. I clung to his neck like I was holding on for dear life.
Then I felt it—the warmth of his bulging length pressed beneath my ass, hot and impatient.
We moved, his arms lifting me as he carried me over to the couch. My hands never left his neck. He guided his dick to my entrance, rubbing against it with calculated, agonizing slowness. The low groans escaping his lips told me he was struggling just as much as I was.
Maybe even more.
"I'm going in, Vel," he said, his voice rough and barely controlled. I responded by tightening my arms around his neck.
But before he could thrust in, my butt pressed against something—the remote.
Suddenly, the room filled with loud voices and flashing headlines. The TV had come on again.
But it wasn't the sound that pulled us back—it was what was being said.
"Just in: The CEO of Yosemite Corporation shockingly announces that the company will accept résumés for the now-vacant position of administrative assistant. The public raises concerns as to what could have caused such a rush. A press conference has been scheduled in one hour."
"An hour?" Omari said, eyes fixed on the screen. We were frozen in the same position, our bodies still connected by want, but now overshadowed by duty.
"We have to get there immediately."
"To the press conference?" I asked as he let go of my legs. He was still hard as hell, but the news had destroyed the moment.
"Yeah. I can get us in as reporters. We need to hear it firsthand to re-strategize, no?"
"I guess," I said, standing up from the couch, my torn shorts my only piece of clothing.
"Why would he want to fill the position so soon, though? The man was just found dead."
"I wouldn't know. But I do know we have to get you that position to make our work much easier. Remember?" Omari said, and I nodded in agreement.
"Good. Get dressed and meet me in the car," he said, heading toward the stairs.
I could tell he was doing his best to mask the disappointment of our little fun getting cut short. Honestly, even I was raging inside. But duty calls. And the show must go on.
I followed behind him up the stairs and slipped into my room. I went straight to my closet and grabbed the first corporate outfit I could find—a gray pantsuit.
I hurriedly threw it on and headed downstairs, walking out of the building. Omari was already outside, leaning against the car.
He handed me a MacBook. "A reporter must jot down things, no?"
I hummed a response, grabbed the device, and hopped into the passenger seat.
The drive to town was quiet. Tense. Maybe it was just me.
I was trying to be one hundred percent focused on the mission, but my mind kept drifting back to what had happened just minutes ago.
It was just as I'd feared. The moment I got a taste of Omari, I was going to want more. So much more.
And I hated how easily it divided my attention. I didn't want to be distracted—not at the early stage of the mission. This was where everything mattered. This was where we made our first real move. And yet, all I could think of was his mouth, his hands, his cock…
I glanced at Omari. His eyes were locked on the road. He didn't seem to be battling the same inner turmoil I was.
Or maybe he was just better at hiding it.
"Omari?" I muttered, loud enough for him to hear.
"Mm?" he answered, still not looking at me.
"About earlier…" I began.
"No need to say anything, Vel," he cut in. He gave me a quick glance, then looked back at the road.
"Just wait till we're done with this phase. After that—only the heavens will be able to stop me from fucking the hell out of you."
I choked on my own saliva.