Her ruched black dress hugs her curves and the hem climbs up her thighs with each step, proving she pulled it down before entering. The V-neck isn’t deep, but her small breasts still manage to steal the show.
As my gaze roams up her body, I note the shade of red on her lips and how her hair lays perfectly across her shoulders in relaxed curves. She’s like a doll, a pretty little thing to play with.
A gorgeous woman to fuck into my ravaged rag doll.
Pushing my chair out a foot, I lean back in my chair and tell her to close the door.
“Declan.” My name comes out in a single breath and there’s obvious hesitancy.
Fuck.
“Yes?” I question as heat engulfs my body.
Her fingers nervously grip one another as she takes a step and then another toward me, but doesn’t stride to the desk. Instead she stands awkwardly in the middle of the office.
I’d feel like a prick for doing this to her, if I wasn’t questioning whether or not she’s conspiring against me with Scarlet.
And if I didn’t think she’d love what I’m about to do to her. Informant or not, she can’t hide that she’s attracted to me. Every little dirty thought is written on her face.
Licking her bottom lip, she takes another step closer.
I grip the armrest to keep me still as she talks.
“I need to know what this is. What exactly is a personal assistant for you?”
The corners of my lips lift into an asymmetric smile. “I need someone to balance the books,” I tell her easily enough and the moment her shoulders lower with relief I add, “and I’d like to fuck you. Thoroughly.”
A touch of shock hits her gorgeous dark brown eyes and her lips part with a quick intake of breath. My cock aches that much more. “I’d like to play with you and play with whatever this tension is between us.”
“Oh,” she answers, blinking once and seeming to take it all in with a sharp rise of her shoulders.
“I want you to be my secretary.” I take in a steadying breath and then lean forward, my elbows on my knees. “And my fuck toy.”
“I see,” she whispers, her gaze caught in mine. Turmoil and intrigue war with each other.
“Does that suit you?” I anticipate her hesitating, her wanting time to think perhaps.
Every nerve ending in my body is delighted from her murmured and immediate response. “Yes.”
As I lean back in my chair, I decide finances can wait until tomorrow. “Strip.”
“Am I—” she starts to question and her eyes flicker with every thought that passes by.
My answering command lacks patience. “Now.”
There’s a thud in my chest and then another as the seconds pass and Braelynn seems paralyzed where she stands.
It’s obvious that she’s intimidated, hesitant, possibly scared, but with a heavy breath that drops her chest, forcing my gaze there, she does as she’s told.
She may seem afraid, but this deep primal need that forces me to flex my hands as I stay as still as can be fucking terrifies me. I want her more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time. Maybe ever. With her lips parted, her breaths are slow and steady as the sleeve is stripped from her arm.
“Slowly,” I murmur before clearing my throat and readjusting in the chair. Her dark eyes are wide as she stares back at me, one sleeve hanging off the dress, the other nearly removed as well. “I want you to take your time.”
She nods although to be fair, there isn’t much for her to remove.
“My heels?” She finally speaks and her comment is meant to be teasing and sultry. I’ll be damned if she didn’t hit her mark as the light kisses her bare skin and the dress is pushed to the floor as she shimmies it off.
“Keep them on.”
Leaving her wearing nothing but a simple lace thong and matching bra.
“Have I already scandalized you?” I question and her eyes pierce through me, holding me in place as she reaches behind her. With a quick snap, her bra falls to the floor.
Her breasts are small, a handful maybe, and her nipples beg to be licked. They’re soft and I want nothing more than to pluck them, nip them, and suck them until they’re hardened peaks. The sight of her bending to remove the last garment is my undoing. As I stand, she pauses.
With a cock of my brow, she continues. Stripping down bare for me, and stepping out of the lace puddle at her feet with the click of her heels on the hardwood floor.
She’s utterly breathtaking.
Standing at the edge of my desk, I tap it once. Only once and she obeys the unspoken command.
The lights are dim, but provide plenty of illumination to enjoy the sight before me. Her questioning gaze searches mine and I take her hands one at a time, laying them flat on the desk and slide them across it, pushing the papers to the other end, until her hips are pushed against it and her chest is nearly flat against the desktop.