Page 68 of Cruel Longing

“That’s where you’re wrong. I want to know exactly what colors you see for this room.”

“Which room are you talking about?”

He grinned. “According to the plans, the secret office would be right about here.” We stopped moving in front of a wall of windows.

I looked around, trying to see what he saw. “Okay? Nice view.” He hadn’t seen my office yet, so he had nothing to compare it to I realized. This was impressive too.

“Can you imagine this place together?” he asked.

I lifted one eyebrow. “Sure.”

He chuckled. “See, I don’t think you see what I can see. How important this very spot is. This right here. What this will mean to our company.”

“And what does this mean?” I took the bait.

He stepped toward me, pressing my back into the window. A small sigh escaped my lips. I was wedged between his body and the glass. Everything beneath my skin began to tingle. My pulse quickened.

“Don’t worry, the windows are reflective from the outside.” His grin was devilish. “No one can see in.”

Oh shit. What did he have planned?

His hand snaked under my skirt, quickly moving to my ass. His fingers dug into my skin. I didn’t know which one of us gasped first. His turned to a growl when he realized I was wearing a thong. The hem of the skirt inched up.

His lips lingered over my neck. “This will be our first mid-morning meeting. I think it will start to make sense once I’m done with the presentation.”

“There’s a presentation?” I asked coyly.

“Don’t move. I’m starting it now.”

I nodded as he sank to his knees. Our eyes met. God, he was powerful. Gorgeous. Sexy. And mine. Luka unfastened the top button on the side of the skirt and slid it down my legs. He had no idea I had only chosen this new outfit moments before leaving my office.

My heart began to hammer at the hunger in his expression. It was determined and wicked. This man was going to devour me. Possess me. I obediently stepped out of the skirt. He snapped the thong, his eyes lusting over when I sighed.

“Think of all the things we can accomplish right here,” he teased. His palms gripped my hips drawing me toward him. I tipped slightly forward in my heels but didn’t lose my balance when he kissed me through the lace, his breath heating the sensitive zone between my legs.

“I don’t see how this makes either of us any money.” I feathered my fingers through the top of his head, playing with his hair. I stroked the back of his neck. “This could be a very bad business investment,” I whispered.

“Stress relief,” he answered. “It leads to higher productivity.”

I almost let out a full giggle, but he had slid his finger between the lace and my skin, and I lost all thoughts of a good comeback when his finger pushed inside me. I moaned while he kissed my inner thigh, nipping as he made his way up my leg. His fingers began to strum my clit and then thrust inside me. I clenched at the impact.

“Luka,” I moaned.

“Shh,” he urged. “You’ll miss the best parts of the meeting if you talk through it.”

My head fell against the double panes of glass. He stripped the thong off my body, and it landed at my ankles.

He was quick to tug the jacket off my arms. The silk suit was trashed within minutes. He kissed between my breasts, dragging my bra over my nipples. They hardened instantly at his touch. The heat from his tongue blazed over them.

“Goddamn, Amara,” he growled.

His fingers pried my heat wide, sliding his finger back and forth until it was slick. I watched, quaking and breathing heavily while Luka returned to his knees. He didn’t care about the construction zone or his thousand-dollar suit. He wanted me. He wanted to imprint this moment in my memory. Christen this space as our office. Our partnership. I didn’t know how to argue against his point when he made it so clearly.

He began a ritual of circling my clit with his tongue before dipping it inside me. I gripped at the motion, trying to hold him in place while he worshipped me with kisses and lashes of heat and friction.

“Oh God,” I whimpered. His tongue was wild and expressive lapping at my juices. I tugged at his dark hair, urging him to go deeper. Suck harder. Drink faster.

Was he driving the deal home or sending me over the edge? I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I slapped the window.

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