Page 46 of Tamed By You

A whimper escapes me, the pressure, his words, his closeness becoming too much.

“H, please…” He knows, his pace picks up, and to my surprise, his hand finds mine and he interlocks our fingers as I grip the edge of the couch. It’s a small gesture but it makes the moment more intimate, although I don’t have time to think about how it makes me feel as my orgasm hits me like a freight train, and I have to bury my face into the cushion to muffle my moans as I clench around him triggering his release. His weight on my back grows heavier as he squeezes the hand he is holding, our fingers still interlocked.

We stay like that, and it hits me: I don't want him to move. I want to stay like this. His hand in mine, just us, but sadly reality awaits. Exhaling a resigned breath, I wiggle my hips beneath him. “I don’t want to be a bitch, but I need to go. Can you kindly slide your dick outta me?”

His body vibrates against me as a low chuckle erupts from him. “Sure thing, babe.” Pressing a kiss to the side of my head, he moves, and I instantly hate the emptiness at the loss of his touch, his warmth.

I quickly get dressed, as does he, then grab my purse and do a quick glance to make sure I haven't left anything.

“Thanks for lunch.” He grins, standing in and pressing his lips to mine. I can taste my arousal on his lips—it’s surprisingly sweet. “I’m sorry, I gotta go.” He nods. “I know.” He puts his hands in his pockets, worrying his bottom lip as if he’s toying with the idea of something.

“Maybe text me later, yeah, let me know how your work thing is,” he asks hesitantly.

“Yeah...Yeah, okay. I hope your day gets better too.” I say, surprised how happy the idea of speaking to him later to tell him about my day makes me feel because, I want to tell him, and I want to text him, because I care about his day too.

“It just did.” He grins in that devilish way that makes me want to sack off work and ride his face again.

“Laters, Ali Cat.”

“Bye, H.” Blowing him a kiss, I then open his office door, before sneaking out, feeling hundreds time lighter. That was exactly what I needed. I hurry down the corridor to the exit, my heels tapping on the wooden floor.

“Ali?”

I stop, I’d know that voice a mile away.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, I turn and smile.

“Brad, you okay?”

He’s dressed in his signature black suit, a coffee cup in one hand and papers in the other. “What are you doing here?” he asks eyeing me up and down suspiciously as he walks towards me.

“I, erm, left something here when I was in the club the other week. I just came to get it.”

“In Harry's office?”

“Yeah, he found it for me,” I reply, squirming under his gaze. God, I feel like a teen being caught sneaking out of their bedroom window to go meet a boy.

He nods, a small smirk forming across his rugged face. “What did you lose?” he says before blowing his steaming coffee.

What the fuck?

“Erm, my lipstick, yeah, my lipstick. It’s a Chanel one. Those things are pricey, so you know I wanted it back.” A bead of sweat runs down my spine. I need to get out of here.

“Right,” he nods, his expression never changing. He knows I’m full of shit. “I see you must have used it already because you missed a bit here.” He points to the side of my mouth, and I swipe a finger and yes, there’s red lipstick on my face.

For fuck’s sake.

I giggle innocently. “I just quickly ate my lunch. Silly me, making a mess.”

“Hmmm I bet you did,” he mutters under his breathe.

I feel myself sweating even more under his accusing gaze.

Get me outta here.

“Anyway, I need to get going, my boss needs me to pick up some stuff, I’ll see you at a rehearsal dinner next week, yeah?”

“Yep, see you then.”

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