Page 82 of Sexting the Boss

I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders, my entire body trembling.

I am seconds away from begging him, from falling apart in his hands, from giving him whatever he asks for?—

A knock at the door.

We both freeze.

Reality slams back into place.

Damien doesn’t move for a second, his chest rising and falling hard against mine.

Then, slowly, he steps back. His jaw is tight, his fists clenching at his sides like he’s seconds away from losing control again.

I don’t trust myself to speak. Because if I do, I might beg him not to stop.

“Mr. Zaitsev?”

Damien lets out a low, murderous growl against my skin.

I try to move, but his grip tightens, keeping me in place for another agonizing second. He presses one last, hard kiss against my throat before he finally, reluctantly pulls back.

His eyes are dark, filled with something dangerous, something possessive.

“This isn’t over,” he murmurs, voice rough, filled with promise.

And I know?—

I am completely and utterly fucked.

13

DAMIEN

I take a long,steady breath, trying to collect myself.

I was seconds away from fucking Sasha Caldwell against that sink.

And the worst part?

I wouldn’t have stopped.

Not until she was spread out, wrecked, moaning my name, clawing at my back, begging for more. And that’s not how I want this to happen.

Not the first time.

Not up against some cold porcelain basin, rushed and reckless, with someone knocking on the damn door.

I drag a hand through my hair, jaw tightening as I force the heat in my blood to settle.

Then, without another word, I unlock the door and pull it open.

Oleg is standing there, arms crossed, his expression blank—but I don’t miss the way his eyes flick to Sasha as she rushes past him, looking utterly disheveled.

Her hair is a mess, her blouse still unbuttoned at the top, lips kiss-swollen and flushed.

She doesn’t even glance back at me as she hurries down the hall.

Smart girl.

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