Page 263 of By His Rule

“Yes, yes,” she cries, reaching for my loose tie and pulling it free. The second it’s gone, she starts on my buttons.

My hands move of their own accord, squeezing her breasts and making her moan louder.

Seeing her as desperate for me as I am her...it’s everything. Every-fucking-thing.

She abandons my buttons when she gets halfway down and is unable to reach any more and instead slides her hands up my chest and over my shoulder, pushing the fabric away.

My teeth grind at the first touch of her hands. My skin burns, and I feel it all the way down to my dick.

Despite craving it, I haven’t seen any action—even my own hand—since we were last together on Sunday morning.

I figured that if I didn’t have her, then it wasn’t worth getting off. Something that’s both a blessing and a curse right now. I love that I waited because I know it’ll be totally worth it. But I’m still dressed, she’s barely touched me, and I’m riding a knife’s edge already.

“Missed you, Temptress,” I confess as I set to work on the tie that’s holding her wrap dress together.

It’s like she knew…

It takes a couple of seconds to wrangle the clasp, but I eventually manage it and throw the fabric aside.

“Fuuuuck,” I groan at the sight of her black lace lingerie.

“Please,” she moans, arching her back from the desk, ensuring she continues to grind against me.

“You don’t need to ask me twice,” I mutter, dragging my half-open shirt over my head and discarding it on the floor, and then sink to my knees.

As desperate as I am to get inside her, I also need a reminder of just how good she tastes.

“Kian,” she gasps when I tuck my fingers under the sides of her panties and drag them down her legs.

My mouth waters at the sight of her swollen and glistening for me.

Her whimpers fill my office as I blow a stream of air across her heated skin.

She reaches for me, her fingers making little grabby actions, but she can’t reach me.

“Please, Kian,” she begs.

I smirk. Oh, how the tables have changed.

Pressing my hands to her inner thighs, I lean forward and drag my nose through her folds, breathing in her scent and committing it to memory.

Her legs tremble and my smile grows.

I’m not the only one feeling like this. She might not want to admit it, but she gets it.

The knowledge finally allows me to relax, and I feel like I breathe properly for the first time in days.

With her fingers finding purchase in my hair, I allow her to drag me closer, and the second my lips lock onto her clit, I suck. Hard.

She screams, her entire body trembling with her need for release.

But she’s not going to get it that easily. I haven’t waited this long and tortured myself all week for this to be over too quickly.

I work her to the edge, over and over, with both my tongue and my fingers. She curses me out every time I pull back. My smile grows and my heart swells each time.

I don’t understand it, and I’m starting to figure out that I’m okay with that, but I’m so fucking addicted to everything about this woman.

I don’t know when or how it happened, but nothing makes sense if it doesn’t involve her.

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