Page 105 of Devil's Tulip

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re pissed at me, but I didn’t send him away just to talk about him. I have more pressing matters at hand.”

I scoff. “And whatpressing matterswould those be, huh?”

He leans back and beckons me over with a single crooked finger.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, I’m unable to resist walking towards him, even though I mouth off at him the whole way. “When we see him again, you’re going to call him by his actual name. And for the love of God, stop scaring the poor man.”

Michael’s lips curve slightly. “It’s not my fault he’s a little coward.” Spinning the chair around, he parts his legs, waiting for me to step between them. The second I do, his arm snakes around my waist, pulling me in. “Now, I haven’t been feeling too well, nurse Gianna. I need you to take care of me.”

I stare at him, fighting hard to swallow my smile. “Oh, have you now? I don’t know, patient… I don’t have my license yet. Shouldn’t you call someone with more experience? I can get my boss if you’d like. He’s very good at his job.”

His eyes turn to little blue slits as he narrows his gaze on me. “That’s unnecessary. What I need treated falls well within your expertise.” He exerts pressure on my waist, and I tumble into his arms.

I pretend to consider. “Well, if you insist… I suppose there’s no harm in trying to help you. After all, you’ve been very good to me these past few days. What exactly did you say you have again?”

“An acute case of blue balls–” He breaks off when I burst out laughing. “Now, is that professional behavior? Laughing at your patient?”

“No, sorry,” I giggle, shaking my head. “It’s just… I’m afraid your condition can’t be that acute, as I happen to know firsthand your wife already helped you out with that particular problem just this morning. So unless something’s terribly wrong, I highly doubt you’re suffering from epididymal hypertension.”

“She did,” he agrees, his fingers tracing maddening patterns on my hip. “But she’s so devastatingly gorgeous that I never get enough. As soon as I come down from an orgasm, my cock goes semi-erect in anticipation of our next interaction. It’s a vicious, unending cycle.”

We’re playing, but his words get to my head, making me dizzy and hot. I lean down and kiss him lightly. “That sounds painful. I suppose I could put you out of your misery.”

“Yes, you certainly can.” Michael doesn’t wait for me to take charge—he deepens the kiss, taking my tongue into his mouth to suck, and I groan, clutching the back of his neck. His hand travels up my spine, and I shiver as he smoothly lowers the zipper of my dress.

I chose this dress for a reason. I wanted to project femininity and elegance today, sure, but I also liked the way the pretty navy blue color matched his eyes. And now, Michael is peeling it off me like it’s his personal gift to unwrap.

I shift back, breaking our kiss to yank his shirt open, desperate to feel the solid heat of his chest.

He suckles my neck as I work the buttons. I’ve done this so many times now, I could probably strip him blindfolded—I’ve got his shirt off in seconds, just as he tugs my dress over my head.

I lean into his bare chest, dragging my teeth across his nipple piercing, and he groans, low and guttural. His hands sink into my hair, his cock growing more insistent beneath me.

“You know,” I murmur against his skin, “I think I have the same condition as you. My husband is so insanely gorgeous, it drives me crazy every time he goes to work, knowing other women will see him.”

Impossibly, my words make his cock go even harder, the hard length twitching beneath me.He likes that.“Really? Tell me more.”

“Well… he has these breathtaking ocean-blue eyes that shift shades like mercury depending on his mood. I love every shade, but I especially love when they turn dark blue because it means he wants me and can’t wait to have me. Just like they’re turning now.”

“Gianna, love—” He cuts himself off with a kiss, palm covering my breast.

Then, suddenly, the room spins dizzily. Only when he’s pushing my back against the sturdy wooden desk do I realize he’s rotated the chair.

He leans over me, holding my gaze as he nibbles the underside of my breasts, expertly undoing my bra with one hand. The garment falls weightlessly from my chest, and then his mouth is closing over a nipple, his teeth grazing and teasing the hardened flesh until my panties are soaked and I’m moaning, writhing beneath him.

He sucks and licks, first one breast, then the other, over and over, while one hand toys with my clit through my panties.

Sweat beads on my forehead and trickles down my spine as I pant for air. “Michael, please.”

My hands slip between us to tug uncoordinatedly at his belt, but he pulls back, watching me struggle with a satisfied gleam in his eye.

“Needy little thing.”

I glare. “Shut up and help me.”

He chuckles, but obliges, helping me unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. He shifts just enough to drag them down his hips, and I wait in anticipation for him to take off his underwear too—but he makes no moves to do so.

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