Page 92 of Unleashed

I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly. “No. No one has claimed my heart yet.”

I heard the soft creak of the chair as he rose, felt his presence as he moved closer. He pressed his body against mine, his hand sliding into my hair, grabbing my ponytail with gentle insistence. He pulled my head back slightly, his breath warm on my neck. His lips brushed the sensitive skin there, sending shivers down my spine. His other hand rested on my hip, then slowly slid up, grazing my stomach before cupping my breast.

“Michael,” I whispered, heat flooding my body despite myself.

“Come away with me,” he murmured against my skin. “Next weekend. Promise me.”

His hand inched lower, reaching for the hem of my dress. I reached down, gently stopping him.

“Not here,” I breathed.

He sighed against my ear, frustrated but not defeated. “Then let me take you home. Right now.”

“I can’t,” I replied, swallowing hard. “I have work to do.”

“You can get out of it,” he teased, his lips brushing my earlobe. “I know the boss.”

“Michael, stop,” I said, though my voice wavered. “Let me finish the day, and we’ll talk next weekend.”

His hand stilled, his breath hot on my skin. “Nothing I do makes you happy right now, does it?” He nipped at my earlobe, sending a surge of desire straight to my core.

I fought back a moan, biting my lip. “That’s not true,” I whispered, barely able to keep my composure.

My grip on his hand loosened, allowing his fingers to inch up my dress. His breath was warm against my neck as he whispered, low and commanding, “Lock the door, Morgan.”

In a haze of desire, I pressed my thumb to the lock, the soft click echoing in the silence of the room. As if that small act of surrender gave him permission, his hand slid beneath my dress, finding the edge of my panties. His touch was electric, and I was already wet—his mere presence had that effect on me. I hated it. His fucking, bloody presence.

He rubbed my clit with agonizing tenderness while his lips brushed the back of my neck. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice rough, full of need. His words sent a shiver through me, the kind that made my heart twist painfully in my chest. I had created this mess. This impossible situation. And somehow, I knew I had to end it.

But not now. Not yet.

“I love you too,” the confession slipped from my lips before I could stop it, like a secret set free against my will.

His fingers stilled against me, lips frozen against my skin. I saw his reflection in the glass—his wide eyes, shock written across his face.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice tight. “Louder. I want to hear it.”

Tears threatened to spill as I turned my head slightly, enough to glance at him over my shoulder. “Oh God, Michael... I love you.”

In one swift motion, he pulled his hand from my panties and spun me to face him, his hands cupping my cheeks. I could smell my scent on his fingers, and somehow, it only fueled the heat burning low in my belly.

“Say it again,” he growled, his gaze fierce, locking onto mine. “I need to see your face when you say it.”

Our eyes locked, and this time, I didn’t waver. “I love you,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

He crushed his lips to mine in a kiss that started tender but quickly grew insistent. His tongue teased the seam of my mouth before plunging inside, exploring, claiming me. I clutched the fabric of his jacket, my nails digging into his shoulders as I ground my hips against him. His erection pressed against my stomach, and the thought of what he could do to me right now sent a delicious shudder through my body.

“Let me fuck you,” he whispered against my lips, his breath hot. “Before you leave. Give me something.”

My pulse raced, and without thinking, I gasped, “Yes.”

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“Do it,” I repeated, my voice steadier now. “Bend me over the table and take me.”

The moment the words left my mouth, he acted. His hand pressed firmly on my back, bending me over the polished surfaceof the conference table. I could hear his zipper, the rustle of fabric as he shifted, followed by the telltale sound of a condom being unwrapped. I tensed, anticipating him. Wanting him.

Michael tugged my panties down and teased me first, running his cock through my wetness. I bit my lip to stifle the moan building in my throat, my body practically vibrating with need. Then, without warning, he thrust into me. I couldn’t hold back the cry that escaped.

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