Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
I see it all, and it makes me want to eat her alive.
She’s halfway through presenting a proposal to the IT team when Harris Smith, who has a wandering gaze, leans forward and lets his eyes drag all the way from her face to her hips and back. The fucker licks his lips. It’s not even subtle. It’s like he wants me to see him do it.
I have a fleeting fantasy of yanking Harris by his tie, hauling him across the conference table, and slamming his face into the neat stack of project reports. I want to say something. I want to rip his tongue out and make him apologize to her on his knees, but I can’t, because that’s not how grown men behave in offices, and because she’s perfectly capable of handling it herself.
She does, too. She pivots toward him and hits him with this icy, polite smile that is all teeth. “Is there something you need clarified, Mr. Smith?” she asks, her tone so icy you can feel the temperature in the room drop several degrees.
Smith recoils, grunts something about line items, and stares into his coffee mug for the rest of the meeting. I catch her eye and she gives me a look like, “Handled, boss.” It’s smug, and she’s right, but it only makes me want her more.
She’s fucking magnificent. And I’m going to self-destruct if I don’t do something about it soon.
I let the meeting run another fifteen minutes, just to make everyone squirm, but mostly to see if Natalie will ever look at me again. She doesn’t. Not once. When the last agenda item is dead, I dismiss everyone, and Smith is the first to scuttle out.
Natalie stands to collect the folders. “Mr. McDaid, do you want a copy of the—”
I don’t wait. I cross the room, close the door, and click the lock shut.
She freezes, folders tight against her chest. “Sir?” she breathes out. Her pulse is visible at the hollow of her throat, jumping with every beat.
I could play it off, act like there’s a “business matter” or some scheduling issue, but I’m done pretending. I’m sick of the cold, empty nights dreaming about her.
I move closer, crowding her against the conference table. She doesn’t back away, but her breathing turns shallow and fast, eyes locked on mine. There’s a moment of perfect, unbearable silence.
“Natalie,” I say, and my voice comes out like gravel. “Have you ever wanted something so bad you can’t sleep? Can’t think? Can barely keep it together long enough to do your goddamn job?”
She nods, a faint shiver coursing through her body, as if a cool breeze had swept over her. “Yes, sir,” she responds, her voice barely a whisper.
I gently take the folders from her hands, feeling the weight of the moment, and place them on the table with a deliberate motion. “Say it,” I urge, my gaze steady and unwavering.
She swallows hard, her throat working to form the words. “I want you, Mr. McDaid,” she confesses, her voice carrying a mixture of vulnerability and determination.
The sound she makes when I kiss her is something between a whimper and a growl. Her hands go straight for my hair, yanking me closer, and it’s so fierce I almost bite her lip.
There’s no softness here, no tentative exploration. It’s raw, primal, and fucking filthy. Our tongues clash, teeth scraping, and I can taste the days of pent-up hunger on her breath. She’s trembling, but it’s not from fear. It’s pure, unadulterated lust.
I back her up against the glass wall, the cool surface pressing into her back as I hoist her onto the edge of the table. Her skirt rides up, and fuck me, her thighs are smooth, perfect, and begging for my touch. I run my hand along the inside of one, my fingertips skimming higher, higher, until I feel the heat radiating from her pussy. She’s already soaked, her slickness coating my fingers as I tease her.
“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking drenched,” I growl, my voice low and rough.
She laughs, breathless and wild, and her hand cups my cock through my pants, squeezing hard enough to make my knees buckle. “You’re not exactly subtle either, sir,” she teases, her voice dripping with mischief.
“You drive me fucking insane,” I snarl, and I don’t waste another second. I push her panties aside, my fingers sliding into her wetness with ease. She gasps, biting her own lip to stifle a moan, but I don’t let her hold back. I curl my fingers inside her, finding that sweet spot that makes her hips jerk and her breath hitch.
“Declan,” she breathes, and fuck, it’s the first time she’s said my name. It’s like a punch to the gut, and I almost lose it right there. My heart squeezes in my chest, something changing deep inside my soul, and I have the feeling I’ll never be the same again.