Page 105 of The Art of Taking Second Chances

“Yeah?” He kissed my jaw while beading my nipples. “Different how?”

“You smell like power.” I put my arms around his neck, and he squeezed my bottom.

“Hmm, does that turn you on?”

In response, I kissed him furiously.

He smiled. “That much, eh?”

I stepped out of his arms and asked, “How did you know I had come for this?”

“You underestimate me, babe. I’m usually one step ahead of you. I can always anticipate your next move.” He leaned against his desk, arms folded, legs crossed at the ankles, holding a smile—the smug one that I hated.

“Wanna bet?” I took a step closer. “I’m dying to wipe that smirk off your stupid face.”

He remained unperturbed and grinned wider. “What’s the challenge this time?”

“I bet you’ll come before I do.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “That’s bold, borderline audacious. What are the stakes here?”

“Isn’t winning reward enough?” I asked with a smirk of my own.

He chuckled. “Okay, challenge accepted. Show me what you got.” He rolled his chair over and sat, then planted a conceited smile on his face.

In the dim light of a tall floor lamp standing guard in a corner, I walked to the couch where he had put my bag and pulled out a pair of five-inch stiletto heels to replace the sensible low spikes I had worn to get there. I strutted up to him like a model on a catwalk, kissed him, then kicked his chair, which rolled back and hit the wall.

I wedged my heeled foot between his thighs and said, “So Mr. Rehani, what would you like first?”

I unbuttoned and unzipped him. He slipped off his shoes and removed his trousers and underpants. Kneeling seductively on the carpeted floor, I wrapped my fingers around him. His eyes remained fixed on my red nails as I stroked him, but when I took my red lips to it, they clenched shut as if by a magic spell. His body slumped in the chair, making it easier for me to take him in. It felt more thrilling than I had imagined. I loved owning this power to make him groan with helplessness. His hand slipped into my silky hair, clutched it, and pushed me in deeper. I stopped and pulled him out.

“Don’t force me,” I commanded.

With closed eyes, he nodded, and I took him in my mouth again, sliding all the way down his beautiful, thick length. Curling my tongue, I swirled it a couple of times. I wanted him undone. My tongue rolled over the head, teasing the delicate skin. He thrust his pelvis up and let out another groan. Oh yes, I was so winning this!

He must have felt my smile, because the next instant, he sprang off the chair and cast me an evil grin. “My turn.”

The tenderness with which he helped me up from my kneeling position disappeared in an instant when he shoved me down on his desk. It was so hot that I was ill-prepared for the soft touches that followed. He grazed his fingers along my back and peppered my buttocks with kisses. But it was a misdirect, because the next thing I felt was a light spank. I gasped, and he kissed away the sting. He brought his left hand around to my breast and kneaded it softly, then spanked me again, a little harder this time. My back arched.

“That hurt?” he asked tenderly.

“No.”

“Want more?”

“Yes.”

“Harder?”

“No.”

His hand came down on me again and again and again as he continued to knead my breast. After each whack, he kissed and blew on it.

When he pushed me flat to my stomach, my bottom hung out, courtesy of the impractically high heels, giving me the leverage I needed and the access he wanted. Using his legs, he parted mine. I held my breath as I felt him squat behind me, his tongue flicking between my buttocks. They squeezed on instinct, but he used his hands to pull them wide. The tongue kept rolling and swirling, going further down to my already wet folds. But I wasn’t complaining. He was my tiger.

“Come up, turn over,” he said. My T-string came off next and got tossed away.

“Lie on your back.”

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