“I might have been blind drunk the first time I kissed you, but thank God for strong whiskey.”

“Seriously,” he laughs. “And you were so fucking hot that night.”

I run my hand down his back, over his ass, and squeeze, remembering his eyeliner, wondering if I can talk him into putting that into a regular rotation. Not that he needs it. “How about now?”

“So much hotter.”

“Oh,nowyou’re hard,” I laugh, feeling the grind below my belt.

“Fucking nipple clamps?”

“Look, if you ever don’t want to work for me anymore, you’d make the most gorgeous BDSM model. I know people who can make that happen for you.”

He laughs between kisses on my neck. “I’ll let you take pictures, but that’s where I draw the line.”

“Christ, you’re a fucking wet dream. Get on my dick.” I turn onto my back, pulling him on top of me.

“Yes, sir.”

I hang up my phone,slam my laptop shut, stand, and snap my fingers to get Christian’s attention. “Up.”

He’s on his feet in an instant, and I don’t know if he recognizes the fierce need in my tone, or if his is boiling over, too. “Everything okay?” he asks.

“Fine.” I open up the desk drawer where I keep lube and shove the small bottle in my pocket.

I left multiple hickeys on his neck last night in all my reverence and enthusiasm. This morning, the memories of our desire have created a powerful blend of lust I haven’t been able to shake no matter what task I’ve tried to tackle. Striding to my office door, I open it and gesture him out.

“We going to my place?” he asks quietly.

Marianne is home, and though she’s likely still sleeping, we’ve gone back into secret affair mode. I can’t wait the time it would take to get down to the basement, though. My cock is erect andaching, balls tight with the load they want to spend. If I have to endure an elevator ride with him, I’ll combust.

The initial urge came about an hour ago when he was leaning over my shoulder to point out something I don’t remember on my computer screen. I’d caught his scent, both the top notes of his cologne and the pure maleness underneath. Memories of last night flooded me. He’d ridden me for what felt like days of intimate lovemaking, blowing my mind and cracking open my heart in the best way.

But now I need to wreck him. I had the foresight to know I’d get overwhelmed at some point, so I made arrangements after his armpit came so close to my face.

“We’re going to the roof,” I explain, once we’re out the front door.

“Fresh air?” he asks.

“Something like that.”

The nearby stairwell beckons, and we walk up. I resist the urge to shove him to the wall and take him here and now—that could be good, too, but it would ruin the surprise. One of these days, I’ll fuck him in a stairwell, but that fantasy will have to wait.

“Got another plan?” Christian asks when he sees the sign on the rooftop door marking it closed for maintenance.

I point at it. “This? I had the superintendent put it up an hour ago. The only thing needing maintenance today is my cock.”

He tugs the corner of his lip into his mouth, and I pull it free, stroking his chin before opening the door on the bright, sunny August day. “I want you completely naked,” I tell him.

“I have a slight fear of heights.”

“Perfect. Strip. And make it good.”

A breath punches out of him before he reaches up to loosen his tie. As he unbuttons his collar, more of my marks come into view—an angry violet in the stark sunlight. I lick my lips. I swear I can still taste him.

I may no longer feel capable of breaking his skin with abraided flogger so he can go someplace in his head that doesn’t include me, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop leaving reminders of who he belongs to all over him.

I unbuckle my belt while he works his way through his buttons. Opening my fly, I reach inside my boxer briefs to stroke myself, squeezing tight.