Page 51 of Crude Heir

“What do you want me to wear?” she asks, her expression closed off.

“Anything other than jeans.” I tip my chin toward the closet.

Turning, she reaches into the closet and pulls out a peach skirt. Her eyes dart between mine as she complies with my order, but only after taking her sweet time to close the door.

She tosses the skirt over her shoulder then dips her chin against her chest, bringing her hands up to her waist.

I lower my gaze to where her fingers are fumbling over the button on her jeans. Now that she’s fallen in step, I’m fully focused on her, on her body and what she’s doing at her waist.

She slips the button out of the waistband and my cock goes incredibly harder. It’s pressing into my jeans as the rasp of the zipper fills the room. And when she pushes the jeans past her waist to show the turquoise underwear she’s wearing, my mouth starts to water.

I could pretend it’s the splash of color on those panties that’s caught my attention. That it keeps my gaze fixed on the juncture of her thighs while she lowers the jeans over the curve of her hips. But I’d be lying.

The scent of her arousal hits my senses when she steps out of the jeans. Anyone else would leave the discarded clothes on the floor. Not Nicole. Instead, my girl picks them up, folds them, then sets them on the seat of the office chair before yanking the skirt from her shoulder.

Hmm, Miss Fuentes is not happy. Lips pinched, she pulls up the skirt then throws me an annoyed glance.

I shrug out of my jacket and drape it over the nearby chair, giving her pause.

Determined to show her the consequences of being so reckless, I settle down at the foot of the bed. With my gaze boring into her, I wordlessly demand obedience. Her face drains of color as she bites her bottom lip nervously.

“Come here,” I command, my tone unyielding.

She swallows hard, hooking her thumbs together.

“I’m not going to say it again.”

I’ve committed those brown eyes to memory. I recognize the fear and uncertainty in an instant, but there’s something new that’s making my cock hard. Submission.

She takes a tentative step forward then her eyes drop to my lap. Clearly, she’s aware of the stirrings in my pants as she approaches.

As she reaches the spot in front of me, stopping just short of my touch. I maintain a steely glare, determined to keep her off-balance.

Now that her legs are bare and on full display, I have to force my gaze back up to her face. Despite the blouse being loose, I can make out the tip of a firm nipple. So I’m not the only one affected, though I admit, I didn’t expect my desire to come into play.

“You have to know there are consequences for every action.” I pat my thigh, indicating where I want her.

Her gaze darts away, so I let her have a few seconds to contemplate what she’s done. Meanwhile, she’s wringing her fingers, bending her knees slightly as she presses her legs together. “You want me to sit in your lap?” she asks with a note of uncertainty.

“No, I want you across my knee.”

Her eyes shoot open and her nostrils flare. She finally caught on to what I’m going to do.

“Now.”

Clutching at the material on the skirt, as if it will save her, she approaches me. Going down on one knee, she studies my legs, stretching out her arms tentatively, second-guessing herself, then finally settling across my lap.

The heat of her body tugs at my desire. Once again, I’m ready to kick myself for underestimating the power this woman has over me.

I pinch the bottom of the skirt, bringing it up past her waist. She gasps, tensing every muscle.

The panties barely cover the important parts, reminding me of how freely she was going to go out in public. I pull up my hand, letting my palm land on her plump butt cheek with a resounding slap.

A quick, high-pitched cry escapes her as her body jerks. She brings her hand up to her mouth, an accusatory expression on her face when she turns to look at me.

“That’s for running,” I say, my voice firm.

My hand lands a second time, eliciting something that sounds likeeep.

---